We've all said it before and even believed it, or at least believed it about 90%.
The Vikings could take the whole thing this year.
Being a Vikings fan is a series of disappointments and heartbreaks, something I first learned from watching Cubs games as a kid. The Twins were my AL team and they actually came through for us in fabulous fashion a few times, letting little Minnesotans stay up way past their bedtimes to wave Homer Hankies while WCCO blared. You all know the story about what happened in '16 with my NL Cubbies and since hope always triumphs over experience, I'm believing in the Vikes.
Yes, I've had a messy relationship with American football over the past decade. Whether it's concussions, Michael Vick, domestic abusers, rapists, violence de jour, or the backlash to Kaep, I've gone weeks and nearly entire seasons without watching a down. As a Vikings fan, well, let's say loyalist, I figured I hadn't missed too much.
When when thought they had a chance, we never just lost, we always lost in heartbreaking fashion. Field goal anyone? I remember thinking they were going to the Super Bowl back when I was in college and the most reliable dude with the most Minnesotan name, Gary Anderson, missed. Disbelief. Shock. Beer.
But that's the way it always was.
Speaking of kickers, most Minnesotans couldn't watch "The Facts of Life" after that loss to the Seahawks for the pain of hearing the name "Blair."
You take the good, you take the bad, unless you're a Vikings fan and then you take a whole lot more bad.
But it eventually worked for the Cubbies and on Sunday, I started believing it just might work for the Vikes. We were watching at a neighborhood bar here in Vegas, so short of one particularly loud gentleman who happened to fall off his barstool, we weren't long on Vikings fans.
After the glorious first half, I'd wrongly assumed that we were on autopilot, until Brees and the Saints had to make it interesting. And nail biting. And fist pounding. And glorious.
I thought we were done for and it was just another disappointing end after they made that field goal and the Saints pulled ahead. It was so perfect. Always the field goal that crushes our frozen MN hearts.
And then Diggs caught that pass.
I was pounding on the table.
I thought he was gonna fall out of bounds.
My arms were straight in the air.
He scored.
"HOLY SHIT!" I yelled along with the other millions of Andersons, Johnsons, and Petersons.
The previously mentioned drunk man took a victory lap around the bar.
We high-fived. Poorly.
My hands were shaking as I texted my brother while my other brother was sending me video of my nephew and dad freaking out back in MN.
It was so boss.
My hands shook for like 20 minutes.
I felt like the little kid I sat next to at "The Force Awakens" who looked at me and said, "I've been waiting my whole life for this."
Maybe it was Joey's yellow bandana. Maybe it was my purple nails. Maybe it was the spirit of Prince. IDK. But I sure can't wait for the weekend.