Yes, there was a time when the star quarterback borrowed cash from the bus driver.

If Aaron Rodgers hit him up, Ralph Schlieve might swerve off the road in shock. As the new leader of the Pack, Rodgers has plenty of challenges ahead of him, but scrounging for Hamiltons isn't one of them.

No, this was a different era. A longtime Caledonia resident, Schlieve worked for Greyhound from 1957 to 1990. For much of that time, the job included driving the Packers - usually to Milwaukee and back when they played some home games at County Stadium.

On Thursday, Schlieve shared some stories from his days on the road. He still chuckles about a day during the Lombardi years when the Packers celebrated a big playoff victory. Two garbage cans on the bus were mostly filled with empty booze bottles.

"They just about ran out of beer before I left the lot," Schlieve said.

He stopped on the way home so the partying players could replenish the stock. Except their intrepid leader, Starr, didn't have the cash.

This wasn't just a franchise legend asking for a loan. This was a guy Schlieve genuinely liked. He fronted Starr the dough.

There were other favors. Schlieve once rescued several newly-bought sweaters Starr's wife had left behind on the bus.

In return, the quarterback wrote letters of recommendation to help the driver keep his prime gig. Schlieve kept his fingers on the wheel long enough to drive for Coach Starr.

Yes, there was a time when the team had little to celebrate.

Mostly the Packers struck him as good people. Some wives would bake brownies for Schlieve. Occasionally Donny Anderson would mouth off, he said, but a teammate would put the running back in his place by suggesting Dick Butkus would shut him up.

If that Bears great was before your time, think of Brian Urlacher. Or, if you're not a football fan, think of an emaciated T-rex that just scented fresh meat.

But it was the coach who wielded the real power. Schlieve didn't become a regular on the Packers route till he swayed Vince Lombardi. Or, more accurately, his wife.

Schlieve remembers a trip when she complained about the air conditioning being too cold. The way the air came out, he said it was a legitimate gripe.

Yes, there was a time when luxury travel contained little luxury.

"I took a bunch of towels and put that all around the windows," Schlieve said, a gesture the first lady of football appreciated.

Other drivers he knew in the area had their own brushes with fame, barreling down city streets at 50 mph leading presidential motorcades or shuttling members of movie entourages. Even Schlieve got a cameo as - big acting stretch - a bus driver in the 1960 film "The Rat Race".

He never unwrapped the Packers polo shirt the team gave him. It's still in plastic decades later, monogrammed with a helmet containing the type of single-bar face mask not even kickers will wear anymore.

The more practical perk was the chance to attend the games. One of Schlieve's favorite viewing spots was the roof of County Stadium.

Yes, there was a time when someone wandering around up there would not have appeared suspicious.

"I used to sit on the bench," he said, "but when they got up in front of you, those big guys, you didn't see nothing."

Once you've sat in the driver's seat, obstructed view won't do.

Mike Moore can be reached at (262) 631-1724 or mike.moore@lee.net