Next Stop, New Orleans

Well that was fun. Back home, in my hotel room, after the Vikings finished cleaning their cleats on Tony Romo’s teeth, 34-3. I am hoarse and exhausted from screaming and howling for 60 minutes straight.

There were some nail-biting moments early, but mostly, the Viking did exactly what they needed to do: take the wood to their shiny opponents and let the crowd rattle the Cowboys, destroying their ability to effectively audible.

That transformation took about five plays, when Vikings DE Ray Edwards engulfed Tony Romo and threw him down, like a rag doll, stripping the ball, while 70,000 of us screamed our approval.

There were a lot of “ouch” going around yesterday. And we were on the giving end, for once. Just as I had hoped would happen; believed would happen, even.

Now, I head home and the team heads to New Orleans, as a touchdown-plus underdog. The same experts that didn’t give us a chance against the Cowboys are already eulogizing my team. No chance, again.

Fair enough.