I was there on Dec. 26, 1993.
It was the day after Christmas and my cousin asked me if I wanted to go to the Raiders-Packers game. It was a spur of the moment thing and I said sure. My mom must have put five pairs of gloves and hats into a bag as she drove me to my cousin’s place.
The Green Bay Packers blew out the Los Angeles Raiders 28-0, but that’s not what I remember from that game. And even though the old guy that sat behind me had the longest icicles that stretched from his mustache, that isn’t what is burned into memory from that bone-chilling day, which saw the wind chill sink to 22-degrees below zero.