Sorry for the long layoff, but things have been conspiring against me lately. From being crazy busy at work, to snowbound in Mankato, to taking grad school finals, my ramblings here have been put on the back burner. Not to mention there hasn't been a whole lot of discussion fodder to work with recently.
But I had to pop in for a quick word on the official end to the Vikings season, which came last night, in Detroit of all places, as they were eliminated from playoff contention by the Giants. Thus ends a season of bad vibes and worse luck, on a neutral field in front of people who didn't care. Fittingly, the most enduring images of this season will be of a popped Metrodome roof sagging down toward the field, and turning the team into a band of nomads. The figurative roof caved in about three weeks prior to the literal one.
Also fitting was the presence of Brett Favre on the sideline in street clothes as Tavaris Jackson attempted to keep hope alive...and reminding us once again that if he is your only hope, then you really have none to speak of. If the ultimate villain in the franchise's latest downfall is going to be collecting a buyout on a beach someplace, at least the most enduring reminder of his failure could be there to put the final nail in the coffin.
But plenty of time in the coming months to discuss how we go about dusting ourselves, for now I just wanted to remind you that rumors of my demise were greatly exaggerated. The blizzard tried, but failed to end my run. Much more to come when Thursday is past and I am once again a free man. Including the Loserville: State of the Sports Union.
I know, you can't wait, oh boy.
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