In 2005, the year Aaron Rodgers was drafted, I was in fifth grade. I was already a Packers fan then, Brett Farve had seen to that during the 98’ Super Bowl. Not the 97’ Super Bowl that they won, funnily enough. My parents are both from Colorado, and are Broncos fans. I may have hit my rebellious teenage years a bit early, because when the game started and they cheered for the Broncos, I chose the other team. 

Even at that precocious young age, I remember the Alex Smith vs Aaron Rodgers debates. Rodgers had the better arm, and came from a more pro-ready system at Cal. Smith was more athletic, and at the time was considered to have more upside. I keenly remember a Sports Illustrated article comparing the two head to head. At the time, the Packers weren’t anywhere near a QB need, and needed help on the offensive line. My interest in this debate was purely curiosity driven, but of course I had to pick one to root for, to go first right? I picked Rodgers (mostly because I liked Cal’s logo better, if I remember correctly. Remember: fifth grader.)

But then the impossible happened. I came home from school the day after the draft, and my dad told me that Aaron Rodgers was a Packer. 

I remember the excitement, because even to a fifth grader the plan was obvious: a seamless transition once Favre was ready to call it a career. I remember thinking that perhaps Favre had indicated to the team that it might be time, and that they were all in agreement about this path forward (oh, the naivety of youth). 

When that divorce did finally come, it was far from amicable. The Packers had just lost to the eventual champion Giants (kickstarting my lifelong dislike of them, which would only grow in the coming years), and the last time we saw Brett Favre walking off the field in green and gold was in disgrace. We all knew that the end had come, and the only question left was: would Aaron Rodgers be able to fill those shoes? How could he, when his predecessor was a hall of famer, three time MVP, and had resurrected the franchise from the dredges of the league? As it turns out, those shoes were filled just fine. Heck, they may have even grown a size or two.

Fast forward to 2009. Rodgers, in his second year as a starter, had led the Packers to the playoffs. That Brett Favre sized monkey was finally off the team’s back, and they were ready to etch out their own place in Packer’s lore. First up: a matchup with the Arizona Cardinals and Kurt Warner, fresh off of their Super Bowl defeat. The Packers were a young team, with all the potential in the world, but hadn’t quite put it together yet (sound familiar?). 

I was unfortunately not able to watch this game, my family was on a vacation at the time. But I do remember checking the score early on, seeing a 17-0 deficit, and mentally chalking up a loss. Imagine my surprise later that night when, back at the hotel room, I turned on ESPN to find that I had missed out on one of the wildest shootouts in NFL history. My disappointment was so all-encompassing that I decided that I never wanted to miss out on a Packers game again (obviously impossible, but damn if I haven’t tried). 

That 51-45 loss set the record for the highest amount of points and touchdowns in a postseason game. It proved that Aaron Rodgers and the Packers belonged among the big boys of the NFL.  But perhaps even more importantly, it set the stage for a magical run in 2010. 

That season was nothing short of poetic. The Packers never trailed an opponent by more than seven points and didn’t lose a game by more than four points, all year. Their injury list was as long as a CVS receipt, with *sixteen players on IR, including key players like Ryan Grant, Nick Barnett, Jermicheal Finley, Mark Tauscher, and Mike Neal. All season long, that team battled for each other. It was a *balanced team, top ten in both offense and defense. But even without much of a running game to speak of, Rodgers was the offense. To me, the turning point (when Rodgers really caught fire) was his return from a concussion in week 16 against the Giants. Rodgers threw for 400 yards and 4 touchdowns that day, and started a winning streak that would last for 364 days and 19 games. 

Their Super Bowl run was magical, beating Micheal Vick’s Eagles in thrilling fashion, dominating the 1 seed Falcons at home, and surviving a matchup with the Bears to stamp their ticket to the Super Bowl. 

That two week stretch before the game was the greatest, and most nerve wracking, experience. I remember checking Bleacher Report approximately ten times a day, *desperate to get my hands on anything and everything I could related to the game. 

The game itself was a microcosm of the entire 2010 season. While the team battled, they were decimated by injuries. Losing Charles Woodson and Donald Driver midgame could have killed the team’s chances at the title, but the resort of the team *stepped up. Greg Jennings. Nick Collins. Clay Matthews. 

But it was Rodgers that sealed the deal. Obvious bias aside, I still think it’s one of the most underrated Super Bowl performances in the history of the game. He went 24/39 for 304 yards, and three touchdowns. Plus, one of the most clutch throws of his entire career. He was the Super Bowl MVP, and the future looked so, so bright for Rodgers and the Packers. 

That offseason was the NFL lockout, which lasted from March all the way until July. You can bet every single day I checked for any Packers content I could find. Aaron Rodgers had led the Packers to the top of the mountain, and I was addicted to the air up there. I read mock drafts, read free agent rumors (anyone else remember Nnamdi Asomugha, and the circus surrounding his free agency that year?) and every form of analysis I could find. All of it was for one purpose in my mind: getting Rodgers another Super Bowl ring. 

That next Super Bowl win, as it turns out, would never come. 

As we stand now, with a matchup with Aaron Rodgers mere days away, it seems an appropriate time to ruminate on his legacy. There’s been so much more evidence of Rodgers being a great teammate than a bad one. Take for example his treatment of Jordan Love, compared to how Brett Favre treated him. His philanthropic efforts are well documented, usually centered in Northern California where he has concentrated on such issues as disaster and economic recovery, supporting local business, and childhood cancer research. 

His political views are his own, but I would be remiss not to mention how disappointing some of those views are, particularly concerning vaccines. These views are dangerous and scientifically ignorant, and as someone whose partner is immunocompromised, I’ve seen firsthand the impact it’s had on a vulnerable population. 

Rodgers is obviously not yet retired, so the story of his illustrious career is still being written. But while he was a Packer, Rodgers carved his name into the annals of NFL history as the most talented quarterback in NFL history. The Bad Man. The owner of the championship belt. At his height, when Aaron Rodgers played football, the entire league paid attention. As Packers fans, we knew that we had a chance to win every single game we played, and we were in contention for a championship every single year.    

Brett Favre might be the reason why I’m a Packers fan, but Aaron Rodgers turned me into a superfan.