I woke up this morning at 5:10 laughing like crazy. I had been in the middle of a dream.

My 20-month-old grandson, Charlie, was guarding Terrell Owens. He was frantically pointing his finger and shouting, "Daaaaa," which is his default yell for anything.

When I find myself doing something like that, I know the game is a big game. I have gotten dozens of e-mails from friends around the country who can't see the game, wondering if I have some secret that will help them.

Unfortunately, I don't. But my guess is that some bar somewhere must have the NFL Network.

Can you imagine how we would all feel today if this game was not going to be on TV in Milwaukee? Lord, we'd storm the Time Warner building and burn it to the ground.