I don’t know this shadowy figure. We were standing in the tunnel used by the Packers to run onto Lambeau Field during their home games; it was a sacred moment. I looked at my mother and she looked at me - we wanted to run down that tunnel, arms pumping in the air with green-and-gold glee, flush with the excitement stirred by a stadium full of fans in foam Cheeseheads and face paint. Instead, this dude sauntered out in front, ruining the moment.
I still sorted of trotted, though. Had to.