It was the best of the Tighes, and the worst of the Tighes, and then back to the best of the Tighes, on super smackdown Sunday, which, not to be confused with Super Bowl Sunday, otherwise is known as Vikings vs. Packers.
The trash talking began early Sunday, game day when the Minnesota Vikings, with Brett Favre at quarterback, hosted the Green Bay Packers, who consider Favre nothing short of a traitor not only for unretiring but also for playing now for the team’s arch rival. I try to be above the fray, as the father of a Vikings fan and the spouse of a Packers fanatic.
So I sat on the sidelines, knowing that the fuse was there for the lighting. And my son, Brendan, lit it early with a visual volley that my bride, Kate — a Packer fan who has braved the frigid conditions at Lambeau Field where Favre once warmed the hearts of cheeseheads — likened to child abuse.
Brendan sent a photo of my grandson Avery holding a poster proclaiming that the Packers suck, in direct defiance of Kate’s repeated warnings to Brendan and other Vikings fans that Favre would end up sucking pondwater — not to mention sucking the air out of their team’s hopes time and time again. But Brendan never received the message, unlike Favre’s opponents, who have received plenty of passes from him during this, his Season of Interceptions.
Imagine Kate’s delight later, then, when the Pack pushed back, and — as the cheerleaders used to say (maybe they still do; I haven’t been at a high school game in ages) — pushed ’em back, pushed ’em back, pushed ’em waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay back, to the tune of a Packer lead of 17-3 at halftime.
That’s when Kate pushed back, happily texting Brendan that we were at Vincent’s basketball game and didn’t know the score of the Vikings-Packers joust (she was telling a half-truth, as we were at the 9-year-old grandson’s game but were able to monitor the implosion at the Metrodome). Mischievously, she asked him for a score update.
Child abuse evidence No. 2: My (formerly) mild-mannered son sent THIS photo of his progeny weighing in, as if we’d believe that the score really WAS just 1. Or, perhaps, Brendan was giving Avery a driving lesson, although such salutes violate the old saw about “Minnesota Nice.” Well, I’ve driven in Minnesota, and I can tell you — you betcha, I can — they aren’t nice, gosh darnit. Oh, they’re nicer than New Yorkers on I-95, but they’re not Nebraska Nice.
Although I’ll roll my eyes at the thought that Avery now knows how do drive during rush hour at such a young age, I’ve gotta say that his mischievous expression suits the message.
By the end of the game, though, cooler thoughts prevailed — and I don’t mean Favre, because word has it he got pretty hot headed with a coach (and I don’t mean head coach Brad Childress, whom the Vikings dumped a day later). Or perhaps it was just the minister’s daughter ruling the roost as mom Erica sent this revised photo, even before Favre helped the Pack win again, 31-3, in the Vikings’ own house.
Brendan’s lesson: If you’re gonna talk trash, it better not be about the Packers, because they’ll be taking out the trash.
No comments:
Post a Comment