The 1997 Season

Note: 1997 was the first season that I wrote down thoughts the entire year. Therefore, the 1997 season summary will come in multiple additions to my blog. Today's 1997 entry will be Week 2 at Chicago thoughts.

Week Two: at Chicago

The clock read :37 on the scoreboard at Soldier Field. Minnesota Viking quarterback Brad Johnson was approaching the offensive line, and I spied Chris Walsh setting up on the left side. I turned to Jason Neuhring, my gracious Chicago host, and mouthed “touchdown.” The entire crowd was on its feet, the Bears fans expending as much energy to rally their defense as they did in spewing every epithet known to mankind in my direction.

In spite of the verbal assault on my appearance, my mother, my heritage and my team affiliation, I stood as Johnson did at the line: proud, poised and confident. This cock-suredness I had obtained the day before at Jason’s house during my visit to his Viking shrine.

We had spent the afternoon watching old NFL films of the Vikings. One in particular, the 1977 regular season game against the San Francisco 49ers, brought back a flood of memories. That game was significant for many reasons in addition to being the NFL Game of the Week. Down 21-0 late in the third quarter, then-coach Bud Grant brought in a young, proud, poised and confident quarterback to spark his team to a seemingly impossible victory. And the legend of Two-Minute Tommy was born as Kramer led the Vikings to a 28-27 come-from-behind victory.

As Jason’s youngest daughter, Autumn, signaled “touchdown” at the last Kramer score, I knew the stage was set for the next-day battle with the Bears. I knew that whatever the circumstances, the Vikings would win the game.

Later that afternoon we traveled to the O’Hare Hilton to see if the team had arrived yet. Parking my car, I looked into my rearview mirror only to see a Wisconsin plate reflected back. I began to complain to Jason that I can’t seem to travel anywhere without having some Cheesehead in my face.

Then I looked closer and read that Wisconsin plate. “GO VIKES” is what it said. That could only be one person, I thought to myself, then Viking E-Mail discussion list administrator Mark Gresbach. After greeting each other, our attention quickly turned to the sidewalk where Randall Cunningham and David Palmer were hanging out. We expressed our good wishes to them and proceeded to the lobby to greet Corey Fuller dressed to the nines: a killer on the field, a lady-killer off.

Quickly dumping off bags in our room, we moved to the Hilton sports bar to set up shop for the Viking Underground Social. Towards midnight we bid offensive-line coach Mike Tice and special teams coach Gary Zauner good night and good luck, then stuck around some more until we finally got kicked out ourselves at closing time. Still at the table were Jason; Mark; the just-flown- in-from- Salt Lake City Todd Grove; the nine-hour road trip gang from Nashville: Gordie Niles, Tom Brunsvold and John “Juice” Hewitson; and me. Earlier in the evening we had been joined by Dan Hildreth and his father and Scott O’Connor, Jon Mielke and their wives. Viking talk was non-stop. Viking trivia was played and stories were told, the best perhaps by Jon.

Jason and I had been talking about the 1996 Viking NFL Films clip in which Randle wore a microphone during last year’s Carolina game. During one segment, Randle is seen in pre-game warm-ups, stomping around his teammates and yelling, “Big Dog gotta eat, Big Dog gotta eat!”

Jon overheard us and began to tell of the time he had shown up very early for a Viking home game and was waiting outside the players’ entrance, intent on getting some autographs. The very first player to arrive was Randle. Finding the door locked, Randle began to pound on the door with his big paws, yelling, “Big Dog gotta got to work! Open up! Big Dog gotta go to work!” Jon thought they eventually had to replace the door because it had taken such a beating.

The next morning we were up at 5:00 a.m. and on the road at 7:00 a.m. Spying another Viking flag in the south parking upon our arrival at Soldier Field, we quickly headed for it and set up camp, only to be joined by many more Viking fans. As Gordie began cooking for the group, showing off that southern hospitality, I spied an older gentleman nearby wearing a Vikings cap. I grabbed one of the Viking shirts I had to give away and went over to him. We began to chat. Finding out I had stayed at the team hotel, he asked if I had seen Pete Bercich. I told him that I had but it was hard to recognize him since his haircut. Laughing, the gentleman said that the haircut had been about time. You see, he was Pete’s father.

Back at the Viking Underground Tail Gate Party, it was time for breakfast. It was now about 8:00 a.m., and the lot was almost completely full. The verbal abuse was just beginning and would not stop until the gun sounded in the fourth quarter. But we dished out enough of our own trash talk to make Orlando Thomas and Corey Fuller proud. Only once did it turn ugly when a fight broke out nearby after the game. Believe me, the parking lot was a powder keg ready to blow, and no Viking fan was allowed to run the Bears gauntlet to the bathrooms without having at least two other Viking supporters with him or her.

At the same time, a common thread amongst Bear and Viking fans was found: mutual hatred of the Packers. During the post-game tailgate party, Viking and Bear fan alike listened to the Packer-Eagles game with great interest. One Bears fan had a life-sized Packer doll strung up on his flag pole, and after the game, placed it on the ground and allowed everyone, be they Viking or Bear, to stomp the effigy to our hearts’ content.

Later that evening as I filled up my truck with gas, I listened to the Pack line up for what could be an eventual game-winning field goal. I was nauseated as much with that possibility as I was with the Packer announcers who are as cocky as the players on the team. I heard them refer to the kicker as having the “eye of the tiger.” When the kicker missed, not only did I yell, so did everyone else filling up with gas just outside of Chicago. The Packers didn’t have the eye of the tiger after all. Neither they nor the Dallas Cowboys later that evening could triumph in a game they were suppose to win on the road. When it came to crunch time, they both folded.

Johnson had taken that snap from Jeff Christy and looked right towards Jake Reed and Cris Carter, then immediately turned to his left and threw a perfect pass to his roommate Chris Walsh.

A big pressure game. A big drive at the end. Three playoff teams from last year found themselves in the same scenario yesterday. Only one came away victorious.

The slogan “Have YOU checked out our Johnson yet” was born?

Posted by maasx003 at October 17, 2004 9:48 AM