On Sept. 9, 2006, when I stopped by Lambeau Field to do a story on the Green Bay Packers, I decided to take some time and formally put my name on the famous waiting list that was started some time shortly after the team first sold out in 1960.

I was told from the beginning that, in all honesty, I would not be able to get tickets in my lifetime, but at least I could observe the movement of the list over time.

There were 73,256 people ahead of me on the list that day, and each of them could claim four tickets when they reached the top.

It was a long way to go.

With the Packers as good as they are, and their consistent goal to stay in the league average in ticket prices, people weren't releasing their tickets any time soon.

If a season-ticket holder died, the tickets could be willed to their family. If there was a divorce, the Packers honor the divorce settlement.

ESPN's Darren Rovell got on the Packers' season-ticket holder waiting list 10 years ago. Let's just say, he still has a lifetime of waiting ahead of him. Darren Rovell

Over the next six years, my wait dropped by about 1,000 spots a year. By 2011, I was at 68,467. The next year, 67,433. Then came 2013, when the Packers expanded Lambeau for the first time in a decade, and thousands of names came off in one fell swoop.

In the past four years alone, everyone who got on the list in the 1970s and 1980s came off the list. Fan No. 1 on the list, who was offered tickets for this upcoming season, signed up in 1990.

The wait, which had grown to more than 30 years, was down to 26 years.

So if I'm 37 now, doesn't the math suggest that at 63, I will get my tickets?

Not exactly.

Lambeau isn't expanding these days. The Packers' new way of generating revenue is buying land around the stadium and building a mini Packers city called Titletown. So there's no plan to bump me down another 5,000 spots any time soon.

Then there's this more important fact: A disproportionate amount of people signed up in 1996, the season the Packers went on to beat the New England Patriots in Super Bowl XXXI.

It means that, assuming no more massive expansions, there are literally hundreds of years of tickets tied up in people that signed up during that year.

On Wednesday, I walked into the Packers' ticket office to get my up-to-date number.

It's now 60,766.

I had moved 12,491 spots up the list in nearly a decade. Mark Wagner, who has managed the office since 1977, confirmed again that I have no shot of getting tickets without cryogenic help.

But I did find some solace: There are more people now behind me (more than 65,000) than are ahead of me.