Wisconsin traditions

You know that saying, never too much of a good thing? That doesn’t really fly with softball and tractor pulls in central Wisconsin. If you’re a fan of either, you know you can find at least one tractor pull or softball tournament somewhere in a 100-mile radius every weekend from Memorial Day to Labor Day.

On some special occasions, like Dorchester Days, Colby Cheese Days and Curtiss Days, we get both all in the same weekend. Dorchester loves softball and tractor pulls so much they have two of each in June and August.

Since my husband is a fan of both, I got more than my share of the testosterone filled events this summer. Combined with work assignments, I think I’ve had all I can take for a while. Luckily, the last softball tournament was Labor Day weekend. I only went to one game, but that was plenty. I guess another wife shared my sentiments.

“I’m so sick of softball,” she said when the guys were on the field.

Me too.

Tractor pulls are another matter. Most of those were work assignments. Those were OK because I could get my photos, watch as long as I wanted, then head out. When I took Nate along, he wanted to watch about twice as long as I wanted to. Sometimes I’d patiently wait, but more often I’d make a run to the foodstand or take Jacob to the playground to get away. The playground trick also works at softball tournaments.

I may gripe now, but I can almost guarantee by Memorial Day, the cabin fever will have set in and I’ll be ready to make the softball and tractor pull circuit once more.

And now, a little comic relief for you joyless Packer fans...
On a tour of Texas, the Pope took a couple of days off to visit the coast for some sightseeing. He was cruising along the beach in the pope-mobile when there was a frantic commotion just off shore. A helpless man wearing a Minnesota Viking jersey was struggling frantically to free himself from the jaws of a 25-foot shark.

As the Pope watched, horrified, a speedboat came racing up with three men wearing Green Bay Packers jerseys. One quickly fired a harpoon into the shark’s side. The other two reached out and pulled the bleeding, semi-conscious Viking fan from the water, then, using long clubs, the three beat the shark to death and hauled it into the boat. Immediately the Pope shouted and summoned them to the beach.

“I give you my blessing for your brave actions,” he told them. “I heard there was bitter hatred between Vikings and Packers fans, but now I have seen with my own eyes that this is not true.” 

As the Pope drove off, the harpooner asked his buddies, “Who was that?” 

“It was the Pope,” one replied. “He is in direct contact with God and has access to all of God’s wisdom.”

“Well,” the harpooner said, “he may have access to God’s wisdom, but he doesn’t know anything about shark fishing. Is the bait holding up OK or do we need to get another one?”