THE DETROIT PLAYBOOK: The Most Detroit Thing about Thanksgiving

The Detroit Playbook Collection is a series of stories of style and stadium culture written by Kiki Pape.

The Most Detroit Thing about Thanksgiving

Chaos, the cheers, and the cries… 

Thanksgiving was my least favorite holiday. 

When I was little, I used to cry about having to wake up early for the Thanksgiving game. The cold, the chaos, the 9 a.m. rush to get downtown before kickoff. None of it made sense to me. My dad would pester me, “It is a tradition…” and I would roll my eyes. 

I didn’t understand why we were standing in the freezing wind, walking inside just to watch a team that rarely won. 

But now? I wait all year for it. 

And not because we are winning now, though, that sure helps. It is because something about that morning feels like home to me. The way the city hums a quiet Motown tune before the sun, the smell of fireball poured into shot glasses, and the Jared Goff chants ringing through my ears. 

Looking back, I realized what a privilege it was and one that I didn't understand until now. 

To see the development and triumphs, a team has to go through to prove they are worthy. 

To be able to stand in those seats next to generations of fans who kept showing up, even when there wasn’t much to cheer for.

To grow up in a city that loves this hard. When I decided to move away at times, what a privilege to say I was part of Detroit's journey. 

Some cities celebrate this holiday differently, typically around the dinner table or cutting the turkey with distant relatives. Still, my family — just us four — finds itself together, facing the field. And I wouldn’t want it any other way. 

The holidays are usually a stressful time, but our solution has found us angry at the Green Bay Packers instead of each other. 

To be a part of a tradition that is bigger than the score. 

The Lions might break our hearts from time to time, but they also remind us who we are. A loud, loyal, a little delusional at times, and a big whole family... but one that is never late to the game. 

What I used to dread is now what I crave. The crowd that somehow feels like family, one that we might even meet on that Thanksgiving day. 

Maybe growing up just means realizing Thanksgiving football is the thread that keeps the season stitched together. That it is the thing that was always there, the noise, the love, the loyalty, and was the best kind of comfort all along.