Learning Not to Care

I watched about one hour of Twins baseball this weekend -- and that was solely to pick out Katie and Betsy in the crowd on Friday, which I swear I did on a long focal lens where they were fuzzy in the background. Then I had some buddies come over for poker, one of whom was a Rockies fan, so we watched that game, and their come from behind win in the 9th inning was a refreshing reminder of why baseball is fun, something that's easy to forget in Minnesota these days.

It was exciting. This was not.

Saturday, thankfully, the Twins game wasn't even an option. It became college football day for me. And even though my alma mater isn't anything to speak of -- although our fencing team apparently is awesome, who knew? -- I tend to cheer either for team's that my friends have strong allegiences to, or else for the Minnesota Gophers. So I found myself watching Tate Forcier have a huge game against Notre Dame and singing "Hail, hail, to Michigan, the leader of the West..." during the day, and capping that off at night by going to the bar and watching the last quarter of Minnesota's inauguration of TCF Bank Stadium.

Isn't that a pretty sight?

(For the record, outdoor sports in Minnesota is beautiful, isn't it? If the Twins were playing that night at least it would have been a beautiful ballpark experience, even if the results were lackluster...)

Sunday, I had the option to enjoy the first day of the Minnesota Vikings with a bunch of friends at a bar on the Upper West Side, or watch a game of my floundering baseball team. I opted for the former, and as much as Favre made me want to hurl, this was beautiful:

Click the link above for the glorious replay that I kept watching on every TV in the bar -- yes, fans of every team were in attendance and they all roared as AP swatted the Browns player aside like a fly.

I suppose I missed a good game by the Twins that day too. 8-0, great start by Duensing. But gee, the Tigers won too. Is this some sort of conspiracy to match them step for step in mediocrity?

I have a feeling that when it comes down to the Twins vs. Vikings on Sunday, I'm going to have to go with the Vikings. At least they've been fun to watch. Twins games seem like a chore and a test of my loyalty. I'll still tune in on weekdays and regardless of what happens down the stretch I'll watch that last game at the dome against the even more hapless Royals. But 8-0 Sunday means nothing to me unless they can carry that energy into their next game against Cleveland. This is it, boys, make me want to watch again. If the Vikings can trample Cleveland, can't you do it to?

I feel bloated with confidence.

Not with baseball. With baseball I have a bare glimmer of hope that keeps getting darker.

No, instead, I feel extremely bloated with confidence going into the football season. Things couldn't look brighter.

With the dawn of the Titans-Steelers game (and their ridiculously self-indulgent and stupid hour long intro), football season really has arrived.

I can't remember the last time I've gone into a season feeling so completely and utterly sure that my team would win a championship. In any sport, in any year. But really, if I put myself in the place of any other team in football I would have to be quaking with fear to face this Vikings team.

Lord knows I'm not a Brett Favre fan. But really, I dare any team to stack the box on Adrian Peterson with this man lined up behind center.

Do it.

After a long, hectic day at work today where I balanced two people's jobs, I decided to go to my bar and relax for a bit.

My bartender, Sam, is a sincere Packer's fan and puts up with my taunts, so I couldn't help but tease her about buying her a purple Favre jersey as a present. It's the little things in life that make me happy.

Eventually, an old drinking buddy, Ron -- lifelong Giants fan -- stopped by and we inevitably talked football. For some odd reason he still thinks the Bears are the favorites in our division, and I could only stare dumbfounded. Really?

I can't think of one team in the NFC let alone the AFC that would be a clear favorite over the stacked Vikings -- and this is in spite of Favre. Despite all the face time he gets, Favre isn't the person taken #1 over all in practically every Fantasy Football draft, nor is he the man in practically every Nike or Gatorade commercial you'll see on TV. Who is that again?

Oh right.

Ron asked me to pick the one flaw on our team and for the life of me I couldn't find it. Our O-Line? That's going to be pretty solid with Loadholt paving a freeway down the right side just as he did in the first drive against Texas. Maybe our secondary? Perhaps if you forget about Antoine Winfield and Madieu Williams.

Perhaps I'm going to be extremely let down. But I doubt it. It's the first week of the season and I'm allowed to feel extremely confident. And I think this year I have a right to. Fear the purple.

That being said, Brad Childress and the Vikings front office are complete douche-bags and I really feel bad for Bobby Wade. That's just wrong.