First Taste of Devastation - 1998 Vikings

Tonight, I watched a little video called "Missing Rings" on youtube. It's a program about the 1998 Vikings team. That year immediately conjures up horrible images of tearshed and despair in my mind. It's a touchy subject to this day for any type of Vikings fan. Watching that video brought back so many memories. It also brought tears to my eyes, deja vu from 11 years ago I guess. It occured to me that that year was my first taste of the devastating feeling that all fans feel at some point.

I was 8 years old in '98 and like most kids my age, obsessed with my Minnesota Vikings. The Vikings were an offensive dynamo, the greatest show in the league. Everyone sensed that this team was special. It didn't take long for one Randy Moss to become my favorite player, as he still is to this day. This was our year, I knew it. I would be alive to celebrate the Vikings first ever Super Bowl win. I was sure of it. I remember Cunningham taking over for the injured Johnson and leading us to a 7-0 record. Moss was electrifying the league, Carter was his usual self, Robert Smith was running wild, and our defense was doing enough to keep us on top. I remember coming in from deer hunting on the Sunday we played Tampa Bay and listening to us lose on the radio. It was our first loss of the regular season, but I thought we were invincible? The loss got to me, but it wasn't long before we started steamrolling again. We demolished the Cowboys on Thanksgiving thanks to Moss' three TD's. We didn't lose another game and finished the regular season 15-1. I was dreaming of a match-up against the Broncos in the Super Bowl. We all were. We got past the Cardinals with ease and set up a showdown with the Falcons. I remember all week being nervous for that game. I remember my Mom talking about how the papers said we would have to watch out for the wide receivers known as M & M (Mathis and Martin) for the Falcons. Sunday came and I had every right to believe this Sunday would end like nearly every other Sunday that year, with a Vikings win.

When it started, we were moving the ball easily, but having trouble punching it in. I remember thinking 20-14 at the half wasn't good enough. We're the high flying Vikings we should be running right through this team! We still controlled the second half and were up by 7 with over 2 minutes to go. We sent in our ultra-reliable kicker to put the game on ice. Gary Anderson hadn't missed a field goal for two years. I remember watching as the ball went wide right. Did that really happen? But he never misses! We were so close. But it wasn't over, of course I had hope we could stop them. I was wrong, Atlanta scored and the game went to overtime. Overtime was terrifying for me. A coin flip was what I thought would determine if we would make the Super Bowl. I was wrong again. We won the toss, but didn't score. The game wore on and on when finally the Falcons made progress and got within field goal range. Out came Morten Anderson. Morten Anderson held the hopes and dreams of an 8 year old boy in that left leg. I could hardly watch. I knew it was going in. And just like that it was up and in. I remember sitting in my parent's room bawling my eyes out. I thought the world was over. I was in shock. We were meant to win the Super Bowl, this was our year. It was all swept from under us. That will always be among the most crushing defeats I've ever been through, up there with even a game I actually took part in (people from Chisholm should remember that Orr game which I still have trouble talking about.)

I act as if I was the only little kid to be crushed that day, but all my friends went through the same thing. We all shed tears that day. We all remember that magical year when the Super Bowl seemed to be ours for the taking. But we're not unique either, every single year many 8 year old kids go through the same things we did. It's the first taste of being a fan. You invest so much into something you can't control and sometimes things like that happen. There's no feeling like it. Like a hole in your stomach, that gutted feeling. You wonder why? Why did this have to happen to us? You take your mind off it, but it comes back. You wake up, and for just a few seconds, life is good. Then it hits you again. Being a fan isn't fun for much of the time. So why do we do it? Because the feeling we get when all of our emotional investment does pay off outweighs everything else. The feeling that yes, we finally made it. We ascended the mountain. That high is unmatched to a fan. That's why we do it.

Why did I decide to write about this? Because at about 3 AM on November 24, it occured to me that this current Vikings team has got me believing again. That same feeling of destiny I felt 11 years ago as a little boy is slowly coming back. I'm dreaming of Super Bowls again, and I love it.