But who hates the Green Bay Packers?

Steeped in tradition and often viewed through a prism of sepia-tone nostalgia, the Packers have succeeded against all odds in a tiny and
remote market, in a 50-year-old (albeit renovated) stadium with aluminum bench seats, in an era of unfettered free agency and corporate greed.

OK, if you re a Seahawks fan, you re not feeling all warm and fuzzy about Brett Favre and Al Harris right about now.  We want the ball
and we re going to score! might be old news, but the sting lingers.

Really, though, do you hate the Packers?

Not if you know anything about the history of the National Football League. Not if you ve seen those grainy images of the 1967  Ice
Bowl and Bart Starr s fateful quarterback sneak on the frozen tundra of Lambeau Field. Not if you admire the principles on which
Vince Lombardi built a dynasty.

Not if you pull for the underdog.

In Wisconsin, there is no other option. You are born into Packerdom here. Your great-grandfather cheered for Curly Lambeau and Don Hutson, your grandpa for Paul Hornung and Willie Wood, your dad for James Lofton and Lynn Dickey. Every kid on your block owns a No. 4 jersey.

What makes the Packers special? Start with the fact that there are 112,015 owners, the vast majority of whom hold one share of stock.
Formed in the NFL s primordial mist in 1919, the Packers became a non-profit entity four years later and remain the only publicly
owned team among the major professional sports.

The most recent stock sale, in 1998, netted 106,000 new  owners who paid $200 per share (and sent $24 million straight to the team s
bottom line) for certificates that are basically worthless. The stock never pays dividends or appreciates in value. But the emotional investment is priceless. When general manager Ted Thompson signs a free agent, the fans can thump their chests and say,  I helped bring that guy to Green Bay. And it s true.

Of course, Bob Harlan, who has run the Packers for 19 years, first as president and CEO and more recently as chairman of the board, has
a stake in the team. He, too, owns exactly one share of stock.

 I paid $25 for my share when I became president, said Harlan, who is retiring after the postseason.  When fans call me, they start out by saying,  Bob, I m a fan and a shareholder. They always point out that they re shareholders. I say,  Well, I am, too, so let s talk. 

Did we mention that Harlan answers his own telephone? There is no administrative assistant to run interference, no automated maze to
negotiate. You ve got a beef with the injured cornerback or the price of tickets, you go straight to the top dog.

The fact that the Packers can even exist in a city of 100,000 is a minor miracle, due in equal parts to fan loyalty throughout the state and revenue sharing in the NFL. Los Angeles can t support a team but this little frozen outpost can? It s one of the mysteries of the universe.

It helps that not much ever happens in Green Bay, other than what occurs at 1265 Lombardi Ave. Lambeau Field notice, no naming
rights is the city s corporate and social epicenter, its source of civic pride, its very heart and soul.

The nearest NCAA Division I football team is 2 � hours away at the University of Wisconsin-Madison, and Milwaukee is 115 miles to the
south, so the Packers are the only game in town.