It’s been a full fourteen hours since the Vikings beat the Packers at Lambeau in January, and the mantra still hasn’t gotten old for me. I haven’t been this proud to be a Vikings fan since Rick the Temp wore a Cris Carter jersey on the air (and no, I don’t care about the Randy “moon”, which is looking like an early season contender for “Most Overrated Sports Story Since Janet Jackson’s Nipple”). I have about a million thoughts on the game, most of which revolve around the utter disbelief of the Minnesota Vikings waltzing into Lambeau (grass) Field in January, putting up seventeen points within the opening nine minutes, intercepting The Great Cheese on four separate occasions–and then, with the game still somewhat in doubt, stringing together a long, sustained, clock-killing drive that didn’t end until the 14:37 mark of the fourth quarter. Unbelievable! And I mean, the Vikings don’t win games like these…never. The team has made its name by folding in these sorts of circumstances to the point that Jamie and I weren’t fully comfortable until there were twenty-three seconds to play, the ball was on the Green Bay 15 and the Packers needed two touchdowns to tie. Such is life as a Vikings fan…not to mention our current anticipation over a return to Lincoln Financial Field this weekend.
I have a lot more to write about this game, which I’m sure is filling at least some of you with various combinations of fear, trepidation and apathy. But in the interests of saving my first term mark I have an oral exam to ready, and must therefore aroint (and oh, how I’ve missed that word). I’m still floating a foot above the ground–and to paraphrase a once-famous British rock band, I don’t wanna come back down from this cloud.