Pressdog.com

Purple Pain

By Bill Zahren
(Posted 01/18/99)

I think I feel the worst for Robert William Greer Jr. of Forth Worth, Texas.

Greer made an unusual deal with police a few days before the game. According to an Associated Press newspaper article, he agreed to plead guilty to strangling a man if he could watch the Super Bowl before heading to state prison in Texas Greer told his attorneys that the Super Bowl would be the best ever if the Minnesota Vikings play in it. That, as we say in the business, is a big "if." The Atlanta Falcons did the dirty bird all over those plans. Flapping their wings on the floor of the Metrodome in Minneapolis, a scene that caused me noticeable personal pain.

Watching with my wife at home, I knew it was over the second the Vike's Gary Anderson missed the field goal in the fourth quarter. Suddenly the terrain became familiar. See lead. See Vikings lose lead. See Vikings lose game they had led. The Vikings were still up by seven with a few minutes to go, but I knew they would give up a tying touchdown. Then, when the Vikings played for a tie and took a knee to run out the clock and get to overtime, I really knew it was over. For the record, I didn't cry. I only said one very bad word, and even then only under my breath and out of the hearing of my daughters. About a week from now, I may have to go out in the garage and scream obscenities. Call it delayed stress reaction.

So, we lost. 15-1 during the season, 1 and 1 in the playoffs. Atlanta deserved it. They played better. Made more big plays. Stepped up. Yada yada yada. Nice for the Atlanta fans, just so much gurgle for the Purple faithful. That sound you hear, by the way, is the sound of thousands of sets of feet hitting the pavement as they disembark the Viking bandwagon. Many may scurry for the stylish black attire of the Falcons. Minneapolis Star Tribune columnist Patrick Reusse wrote that purple Viking flags that once fluttered proudly above the doors on Viking "fans" cars littered the slushy parking lots around the Metrodome after the game.

OK, if you must know, I jinxed it. It's time to come clean. Not only did I start last week THINKING about having a Super Bowl party. I invited my fellow long-suffering Viking fan father to travel the 100 miles to my house to watch with me. The theory was that after watching the Vikings choke away four Super Bowls, we should watch them return to purple glory together. I worried out loud that I would genuinely cry if the Vikings won the Super Bowl after my 24 years as a fan. Now Dad and I can watch, well, the Falcons. Not quite the same, somehow. I think I'll watch while wearing my circa 1989 "40 for 60" Vikings sweatshirt.

The only good thing about Sunday for me was the K-1, 4-on-4 soccer game that followed the Vikings loss. The Northside Avalanche had its second indoor soccer tilt. I'm head coach (Bill "Bear" Zahren), equipment boy and official shoe tie-er for the team. Stung by the Viking game, we put in the Purple Pincer 1-2-1 formation for the soccer match. That's one first grader up front, two kindergartners at midfield and one first- grade sweeper in the back. It worked just like I drew it up using my finger and the sideline floor. Our defense was a wall. Our forward was a phantom, appearing as if by magic with the ball in front of the net. Our midfielders worked the corners like hockey grinders, scrapping and kicking for every ball. They flew to the ball with reckless abandon, lashing at the orb with their small Barbie-sneakered feet. Glorious, glorious.

OK, look at this way - you really do learn a whole lot more about yourself in defeat than in victory. Take it from someone who has seen a lot of both, it's not just a cliché. You're either loyal to a team or you jump from frontrunner to frontrunner. It's easy to stick together as a team when you smash everyone. But hanging in when you get smashed takes a whole next level of character, courage and integrity.

So, the Vikings lost. The sun still rose. There are more important things. I figured that out late in the second period when Rylee the kindergarten midfielder buried her first goal ever. She ran out of there like Michael Jordan after a 360 super scooper, gave the coach five and got a standing O from Mom and Dad, all while wearing this "no-big-deal, I-can-score-at-will" expression. Almost as good as a Super Bowl win to me and much better to Rylee.

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