Skol Vikings! (or not really)

Today: My very first NFL game.  How it has taken me 26 years to get to the Metrodome for a Vikings game I will never really know.  I mean, if I was someone who was totally clueless about football, it would make sense.  But after four years on the high school cheerleading squad and another four years of Gopher season tickets, there is no method to the madness.

On Friday night, Billy called me so we could talk about what the game was really going to be like.  That maybe most of the attendees would not be from The Cities.  I think really, the heart of the message is that Vikings games are sort of like the State Fair.  Except with more alcohol, less animals and everyone is twinning.

Oddly, the only Vikings shirt I own (and the only one I have EVER owned) is this Youth Large shirt I snagged at Target before my Birthright trip.  The packing list indicated that we should pack a piece from our hometown to be worn on the day that we visited a grade school for our day of service.

I assumed that part of this would probably involve leaving the shirts, baseball hats, etc. behind so that the children could have them.

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Clearly I was incorrect.

Pre-game we grabbed a drink.  Marcus gave me a few different options and I ended up choosing Hubert’s because it sounded like it would be the busiest/most rambunctious.

I was really heartset on a Bloody Mary for some reason this morning.

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It mostly tasted like vodka and salty.  Had I known that the bloody mary mix was coming out of the same soda gun as the orange juice for screwdrivers, I may have reconsidered.

This was also the point at which I observed to Marcus that most of my fellow female bar goers had what could only be described as Very Sensible Hairstyles.

Translation: Nothing below the chin.

I know that if you’re from MN, you already Know About The Metrodome.

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But for those of you who are not local, our football stadium is covered with an inflatable dome .  The whole building is actually pressurized, and if you go out the wrong door, you will actually get sucked out.

Not kidding.  That actually happened to me as a 5-year-old.

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I couldn’t resist grabbing this snap, because I’m fairly certain that this is the first step towards Man Purses For All.

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You may be wondering if that man is carrying a handheld fanny pack but please trust me.  He is not.

In terms of how the actual game went, it was not pretty.

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We threw an interception in the first minute or two of the game and then we just kept on digging.

But there were redemptive moments.  Like this Dome Dog (even though it went by some other secret name).

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And the trash-talking 10-year-old behind us who kept on getting hushed by his mother.

We ended up leaving at the top of the 4th quarter because really all of it was just Too Much To Bear.  There may have been another interception situation as well – the heart can only take so much.

As we were walking out of the stadium, I kissed my hand and touched one of the walls.  They’ll be tearing the Metrodome down once the season is over as a part of the new Vikings’ stadium project.

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It may have been my first NFL game, but that stadium is where as a kindergartener I played “We’re Going to Win Twins” on the violin on the baseball field along with the rest of the Wayzata Strings before one of the Twins games.  Where I captained the cheerleading squad the year that Billy dressed for the championship game and we lost to Minnetonka.  Where I watched in the stands the next year when my brother became part of Wayzata’s first state championship football team.  That turf is where I stood on the football field as a third generation Gopher and a part of the University of Minnesota 2008 Homecoming Court during coronation.

For all that I have never intentionally placed any building outside of my home into my life, that one has seen some big things.

So I had to say goodbye.

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3 responses to “Skol Vikings! (or not really)

  1. Sounds like a great day. I remember when that stadium opened, I was in high school. Now I feel old. Sigh. Glad you had fun. Man purses suck.

  2. It’s not even a cool French-like man purse. It looks more like he’s carrying a fanny pack.

  3. You have a thing for farewell to walls……..

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