I came to laying face down on something soft and opened my eyes to see that it was grass. Had I been thrown from my car into somebody's yard? Strangely, I felt no pain. As I got to my knees I saw that I was definitely not in anyone's yard. I was in a gigantic football stadium.
As I tried to make sense of what I was seeing it dawned on me. I was dead. For a moment I was sad, then terror took over. While I had lived a good life, I most certainly had not lived a pious one. I was surely destined for hell. I stood there, paralyzed by fear for a few moments as I awaited my eternal torment. But it never came. I could hardly believe that hell was just a football stadium, so that left heaven. If that was the case it was seriously overrated.
With nothing better to do, I decided to look around. I walked into one of the tunnels leading outside but the door was locked, as were the rest of the doors in the stadium. There was no way out.
I climbed the stairs, sat down in the bleachers, and tried to figure out what was going on. Was there something I was supposed to do? I looked out over the grass and that's when I saw it. There was no mistaking that big capital "G" right in the middle of the field. The realization hit me like a ton of bricks. I wasn't in heaven or hell. I was stuck in Lambeau.
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