The half-won, half-lost, totally good weekend

Dateline: In the Shire, Indy, 26 September 2005

Kev ran well Saturday morning. Small field of just 8, despite four teams (he runs in the younger classification), and he finishes five out of 8. Nice ribbon, which he likes, and I respect the time (just 9 seconds of his personal record, which I admired given the hills and the steamy heat).

We leave Indy feeling good.

I found out late Friday night that Six Flags Great America (just north of Chicago) was closed for the weekend, so I got the Brewers tickets, which turned out to be a great time for us both. I had never been to Miller Park and it is something to behold: a queer yet very inviting pastiche of every great park you can think of. The place is a monument to asymmetry, the antithesis of the space-ship stadiums of the 1970s. Every step you take is a new and unique view to something. Really a great place to watch baseball, and it has the retractable roof!

Cardinals in town. Best team in baseball. Brewers get 7 in the 2nd (two big homers) and hold on for 8-7 victory. Kevin and I watch last half of game in upper grandstand's highest seats (we switch each inning for new view). We had a blast. Kevin said he wished the day would never end (music to any dad's ears).

But it does end, at a Holiday Inn Express I score for free with points just north of Milwaukee.

Up the next morn we drive, with seemingly everyone else in Milwaukee, up I-43 to Lambeau, in dense fog, with every car jockeying for position at 85-90 miles an hour (no cops to be seen, nor much landscape-for that matter).

Kev and I score a lawn spot two blocks from Lambeau for $10 and walk toward the stadium. As we approach the WTMJ booth outside, we hear the Packer pregame and it seems like the people inside are on the air. Then I recognize the voice of the guy being interviewed-Jerry Kramer, legendary right guard of the Lombardi era and author of my all-time favorite book that I've read maybe a dozen times (Instant Replay).

I look in the booth, and by God, he's in there doing the interview!

I stand outside and wave at him like a five-year-old. He smiles and waves back during a commercial.

I jump up and down like a girl an at Elvis concert.

I wait with Kevin, who can sense my excitement.

The interview finally ends and he comes out the end of the trailer, flanked by two Packer security people.

I have no shame.

I say, "Mr. Kramer. I have to tell you I've been a huge fan of yours my entire life and I read your books over and over again. Could I please just shake your hand?"

He smiles (I get this on occasion myself, so I know how good it feels) and says, "Sure!"

He shakes my hand with his big beefy fingers and I notice the Super Bowl II ring on his pinky (I would have asked to kiss it, because I retained just enough self-awareness-even in this mind-blowing moment-to resist that temptation).

As he passes by, Kevin does his usual unbearably cute shtick and warrants a big hug from the man.

We are both thrilled.

So what to do next? We enter Lambeau and do the Hall of Fame, touching the sacred plaque. We also do the kid zone up big time (Kevin throws the ball 26 mph, me 46!).

Then we migrate up to the third deck to the Leinie shack, where I have some Honeyweiss and Kev does some hot chocolate. We meet up with two of my brothers, a significant other, and a nephew. We exchange some Viking tix for the MNF game in late November. We hug a lot. I buy a round. We notice the time passing and we break for our seats.

During game it rains on and off. Kevin swears that it rains at every Packer game he goes to, and I do believe it's four for four with him (he always goes with me to the second home game).

Game has some highlights (two more Favre TDs) and some lowlights (missed PAT cost us the game), and we're sad to see them lose and go 0-3 (our two lost guards haunt us mercilessly), but Kev and I emerge beaming anyway, Kev still insisting that he wished this day never ended.

And as we walked out I thought back to all those Brewer doubleheaders my Dad took me and my little brother Ted to in the 1970s. We lost most of those games too, and yet I always wished those days had never ended-just like Kev.

Horrible long drive back, through more blinding rain showers than I could count, arriving just before midnight.

And it felt good to be home-in Indiana.

Here's the daily catch:

■ Storms reveal the military-market nexus

■ How much to outsource abortion?

■ China tightens on technology, lightens on politics

■ The endgame on Iraq began a long time ago

■ But where are we going on Iran?