Love Football Stories? Read My Dad The Ice Bowl Chicken

My Dad The Ice Bowl Chicken

By Coach Jason Warner
1-20-2011

5 Chapter Short Story

Chapter 1                                  Almost Loyal Packer Fan

There’s no place else in the world that my Dad would like to have his unused Ice Bowl tickets on display than at the Pro Football Hall of Fame.  Yes, I said unused.  According to my research Lambeau Field was sold out on December 31st, 1967 with minus 40 degree wind-chill temperatures as the Green Bay Packers defeated the Dallas Cowboys in the NFL Championship Game.   Reports claim that a crowd of 50,861 gathered at Lambeau Field that day.

Well, let history note that a crowd of 50,861 minus 2 gathered on the frozen tundra that day.  Minus 2 of this guy’s parents, that is.  Ever since I can remember, I would hear the stories about why my parents didn’t make the 3 hour trek to watch the most famous football game in American History.  Oh, and how the story changed.  For roughly two decades I was convinced that my mother was pregnant with my oldest sister and my father chose not to go because he was looking out for his unborn child and his wife.  As his eldest son, I thought the world of my father and hoped someday I would do something as caring and special for my own wife.

That was until I found out that the gestation period for women was 9 months and dates were not lining up.  I then questioned my father; “Dad, how could mom have been pregnant if the Ice Bowl was in December 1967 but Jackie wasn’t born until mid -October 1968”.

As the years passed, stories changed and so did the location of the tickets.  They moved from behind the glass in my mother’s China cabinet into their own safety deposit box at the bank where they have remained for the last 15 years, other than 2 days of sunlight.   At one time, my sister got hold of them and was able to snap a couple photos of them and toss them on EBay to see what they might go for.  That experiment was short lived when my dad made her pull them after reaching a quick $3500.  This infuriated my father, and he claimed “I wouldn’t sell those tickets if someone gave me a million dollars ”.

In 2006, we got the tickets out again and framed duplicates of the tickets along with a framed picture of the classic goal-line stance for his birthday.  I then asked my dad if he would consider offering up the originals to either Hall of Fame.  Surprisingly, he was eager and excited about the notion that other Packer Fans or football fans in general would be able to share in a part of history because of his misfortune.  After consulting with members of the Green Bay Hall of Fame and The Pro Football Hall of Fame, I came to find out that individuals cannot retain ownership rights and display items in the Hall.  However, they told me that if my father wanted to donate them, they would be happy to have them.  With much dismay, they went back to the safety deposit box once again.

So the quandary stood, my dad was not selling the tickets for less than 1 million dollars and the only other place that he really wants to see them go is not able to take them without giving up ownership interest.  So, until we bury them with him they will remain in the 3×11 inch steel box at the community bank for nobody to appreciate.

And then it happened!   The old man buckled.  After years of fables, my dad slipped and the truth came out and hit me like a ton of bricks.   Speaking of my mother, he said, “…she wanted to go, but I chickened out.  I’m the one that folded”.  Holy Crap, the very story that I heard about for 37 years was untrue and he threw my mother under the bus doing it.  So, my entire belief system had been shattered at that very moment.  This information led me to question my father even more about my existence.

Fast Forward to 2011, I offered my dad the one hundred and twenty second way that I could help him sell the tickets if he was interested.  I told him that we might be hard pressed to find an individual that would want the tickets for 1 million dollars so my dad said, “Great!  End of discussion, I will keep them”.  However, I shared with him the idea that I could probably work on finding 1 million people to throw a dollar at the story of My Dad The Ice Bowl Chicken with the understanding that they were the contributors of the tickets into the Hall of Fame.   My dad wanted to make sure that if this “crazy idea” actually was put into place that money will not be received unless the million dollars is reached.   I thought that was a fair request and typical of my dad.  So since we were negotiating, I thought it would be only fair to throw out my final stanza to him.  Well, my only stipulation was that you request the sign above your tickets to read…

        “…she wanted to go, but I chickened out.  I’m the one that folded”
                                                  The Ice Bowl Chicken
                                                          Almost Loyal Packer Fan

After years of asking for forgiveness and not permission from my father, this was the first time I have asked for permission and received it.  So, it’s this child’s dream to take the keys from that bus that he used to run my mother over with for 40 years.  Thanks for the permission dad to drive your fabled story bus about the time you didn’t go to the Ice Bowl.  This time the driver will clarify the truth and he has a pen in his hand.

I love you Dad, but this one’s for mom!

Jason
Your Favorite Son

Chapter 2                                                                                   6 Bear Fans
Clean your room, shut your light off and take out the garbage.  It’s those phrases that resonate with me to this day.  I guess as a child it’s your job to listen to your parents, do what you are told and follow the status quo.  Case in point, if your dad is a teacher, you want to be a teacher.  If your dad is a mechanic, you want to be a mechanic.  If your dad is a Packers fan, well, there are always exceptions to the rule.

Vince Lombardi is one of the greatest coaches in football history whether you are a Packers fan or not.  I know I didn’t need to remind you of that, but I thought I would share my pain.  If it wasn’t every other day, then it was everyday that I heard some reference to the “greatest coach in football history”.  Each day was about how my dad played the role of Lombardi and how my family played the role of the Packers.   I don’t know how one man (my dad) could put together so many analogies and how anything and everything could be related to Lombardi.
As a father myself, I initially thought that the greatest thing in the world was to have children.  Come to find out that the greatest thing in the world is to have children that share your same beliefs, ideals and most importantly sports teams.  As easy as it has been for me to brainwash my children to enjoy the same sports teams as I do, I find it very confusing how my dad failed miserably with this same concept.  While my kids are threatened with time-outs, punishments and starvation my dad’s greatest blunder in this regard was that he gave me a choice.  

Growing up, I was surrounded by my dad’s beliefs and ideals as I watched my parents work Friday Night Bingo’s for our school church for 18 years.  This volunteerism paid off over a quarter of a million dollars in school debt and is an example of who my parents are.  I learned very early on that if you didn’t have the money to give to someone in need, then you would need to find the time to make it.  While team loyalty may vary between us, this is one concept that went in one ear and didn’t make it back out.

While I have tried to parallel my dad’s notion of sharing, enjoying the green and gold on Sunday’s was never a given.  In fact, it still perplexes me how somebody so Green Bay Packers could successfully raise not one but six Chicago Bear fans.  That’s 100% of his children.  Amazing!  Go Ditka!

Chapter 3                                                     One More Chapter…after this one

My parents could find ways to use the money if they decided to sell the tickets, but I don’t see that in their make-up.  When you devote a significant part of your life to helping others, selling pieces of themselves to a rich attorney at an auction house just doesn’t fit their mold unless it is for the betterment of someone else.

At 37, I have owned more cars than my dad has his entire life.  This wasn’t a competition for me, rather an example to his frugal approach toward life.  I find great humor in his ability to drive his cars into the dirt and to do more for others than himself.  It has always been his nature to not ask for anything on birthdays or Christmas either.  And even if you decided to splurge at the dollar store for his birthday, you were in for a complaint. 

So, as I have struggled to find ways to get my dad to sell his tickets in the open market, I have decided to quit finding ways to get them sold for profit.  I believe that eventually he would like to know that his grandchildren are walking their children through the Hall of Fame and reading the story about the Ice Bowl Chicken.  However, he would be perfectly happy using the sale of them to that rich attorney as seed money to kick-start projects at his church, local schools, scholarships, or something dealing with Parkinson’s. 

The latest recession made by my dad was that he would walk the tickets to Canton if someone or a group of people made a million dollar contribution to fight Parkinson’s/Alzheimer’s disease in Carol Warner’s name (that’s my mom).  While that may be a stretch, so is walking to Ohio from Illinois.  But then again, the tickets are in mint condition.  

Either way, I look forward to continually help him find an answer and if I can’t, I know 6 Bear fans that would love to have them.

2 -18 -11
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