The Wretched Vikings

Here is a great picture that my friend Andy sent me. He's decked out in the Vikings gear that I left him, including my thirty-five year old Fran Tarkenton jersey, to root for our mutual curse, the Minnesota Vikings. One of the things that I miss the most about home is meeting up with Andy and the excellent Heidi down at Ruben James for beers and chicken wings on game day. That said, I am not blaming him for the horrific state of the team this year in my absence. Over four decades ago I latched on to that woeful franchise as my favorite NFL team, and they have given me nothing but misery. Every other team that I have ever adopted has rewarded me with at least one championship (even the normally underachieving Reds have won the title three times in my lifetime), but the Vikings remain a blight on my existence. That said, I am no fair weather fan and will continue to support them, doubtless straight on into the grave. Well, at least we can support Heidi's favorite team, the Lions, with a clear conscience now.