Right after the Super Bowl, in my euphoric and borderline grandiose state of mind, I thought up and conferred on myself the MVPF award.
The letters stand for Most Valuable Packer Fan.
I didn't attend the game in person and didn't wear my trusty old cheesehead hat for every play.
But when the game was on the line, when the Steelers were about to take the lead, I did put on the substantial piece of headgear.
I wore it for only a few minutes. Until the tide turned. The Pack stripped the ball, recovered it, and got back in control. And I was there, in battle getup, when it was most needed.
I doubt many outside the stadium wore their cheesy hats the entire game. Those things are heavy and cumbersome. You can't lean back with them on. They're designed for stadium seats, not couches and certainly not recliners.
And although I was only one of myriad Packer backers trying something, anything, to appease the football gods when the game was slipping away, my timing was superb. I deserved the award.
Indeed, cheesehead hats do come in handy, and not just for winning Packer games. A few years back, a Wisconsin ultra-light-plane crashed with just the pilot aboard. He survived, with no serious head injuries. Examining physicians said his life was saved by, yes, the cheesehead hat he was wearing.
I'm surprised the Wisconsin state legislature didn't enact a cheesehead-hat-law for motorcycles as well as small planes.
Another use for these molded yellow monstrosities (manufactured by Foamation, Inc. in Milwaukee) is as an infant seat. Place the hat upside down, and the infant's little bottom fits perfectly in the indentation designed for an adult's head.
It's very much like a Bumbo Baby Seat, ideal for little ones who can hold their heads up but can't yet get out and crawl away.
Baby can be right there with you when you're doing something requiring both hands, such as drinking and snacking during the Packer game.
This reminds me of years ago, before the invention of the cheesehead hat, when we lived in a community about 40 miles south of Green Bay. Down the block was a Catholic church, and kitty-corner across the street was a bar.
After the 11 a.m. Sunday Mass during football season, people would stream across the street to the bar, some carrying infants in infant seats, to catch the kickoff on TV. Inside, the infant might be left for a time in the seat, placed on the bar or a table.
These days, some probably use cheesehead hats in the bar to hold their little Packer backers. Or to hold them while opening presents Christmas Eve in homes with extravagant outside light displays that are all green and yellow and feature a big G.
In conclusion, one last Packer-related image of Wisconsin: on most Sundays during football season, city streets across the state are deserted between noon and three, except for emergency trips like a beer, brat or snack run.
(James Lein is a community columnist for The Minot Daily News)