Diagnosis Skoliosis: Gary Fucking Anderson

It was January 17th, 1999. The 1998 NFC Championship Game. I was 9 years old, standing a mere 2 feet away from my family's 40-ish inch CRT TV, and my mother and father were on the couch behind me. We were going to do it: my Minnesota Vikings were about to make it to the big game.

When I was a kid, I had a couple neighborhood friends, Justin and Kyle, and we were thick as thieves. You could find us daily causing some sort of a ruckus, whether it was throwing tomatoes from Kyle's back yards at cars on a nearby county road, playing Pokémon on our Gameboy's in Justin's tree fort, or riding our bikes through the neighborhood and shouting expletives that we thought were hilarious once we were out of the range of our parents (we weren't out of range, and I paid dearly for that miscalculation). It was around the time that I turned 7 or 8 years old, however, that even amongst my best friends that I felt I was missing out on something. We played a lot of video games, and Justin and Kyle both really enjoyed playing sports video games like NBA Jam, but at the time they just didn't resonate with me. I also started to notice the two of them developing differentiating friend groups at school. They would talk sports with the other boys, especially the ones who they were on sports teams with. At the time, I only played baseball, and was terrible at it. The other connection I started to make was that they seemed to get just the slightest bit more attention from girls. Of course, girls were cootie infested she-witches, but I still found a bit of jealousy to not be receiving that bit of attention. Being a scholarly child, I made a conscious decision that I didn't want to be the odd one out going forward. I wanted to be more accepted by my peers. I wanted that little bit of extra attention. That is when I decided that I was going to force myself to become more involved in sports, even though I really didn't feel any sort of passion towards it.

In order to develop a better understanding of sports, I knew I needed to do my research. I couldn't simply get a crash course from my best friends because that would involve admitting that I was ignorant on the subject. That would have been embarrassing and counter-intuitive. No, instead I remembered seeing some old VHS tapes in my basement that had my dad's chicken scratch written on them. "Super Bowl XX". You see, my dad grew up around Gary, Indiana... yes, the home of Michael Jackson (RIP you smooth criminal/pervert). Gary was located essentially a stone's throw from Chicago, and my dad grew up watching the Bears. In the 1985 season, the Chicago Bears had a star studded lineup with names like Jim McMahon, Walter Payton, Willie Gault, William "The Fridge" Perry, Richard Dent, Mike Singletary, and Leslie Frazier. They were coached by the legend Mike Ditka. Of course, I knew jack shit about any of these guys, but I threw in the VHS tape and started my journey on learning the game of football. One characteristic about me is that when I put my mind to something, I stick to it. I want to learn all the in's and out's. While in that moment, football didn't have me captivated, it soon would.

Fast forward to the 1998 NFL Season. I'm in Minnesota, so naturally the NFL team that I am drawn to is the Vikings. It didn't hurt that I come from Scandinavian heritage, so it only seemed appropriate for me to become a Vikings fan. Boy, did I pick the right year to decide to thrust myself into football. The Vikings were a prolific team this season. They boasted a trio of wide receivers who gained the moniker "Three Deep" featuring Cris Carter, Jake Reed, and some lanky rookie named Randy Moss. Randall Cunningham took over for Brad Johnson in week 2 and exploded with his best season ever as a professional. Dennis Green was the Head Coach and Brian Billick was the Offensive Coordinator of one of the more prolific offenses the NFL had ever seen. The Vikings scored a record 556 points that season, and Randy Moss recorded an NFL rookie record by catching 17 touchdowns, including a memorable Thanksgiving game versus the Dallas Cowboys where Moss caught a whopping three passes. Those three passes did, however, account for 163 yards and three touchdowns. The Vikes even had basically the best kicker in the entire NFL that year in Gary Anderson, who was 35 for 35 in the regular season when attempting field goals. The Vikings went into the playoffs that year as the number 1 seed with a 15-1 record, and for a young kid trying to get into the game of football, what could be better than tons of scoring and winning nearly every game? Let me tell you, I was hooked.

January 17th, 1999. The NFC Championship Game.  The Atlanta Falcons at the Minnesota Vikings. I was 9 years old, standing a mere 2 feet away from my family's 40-ish inch CRT TV, and my mother and father were on the couch behind me. We were going to do it: my Minnesota Vikings were about to make it to the big game. I was 9 years old, standing a mere 2 feet away from my family's 40-ish inch CRT TV, and my mother and father were on the couch behind me. We were going to do it: my Minnesota Vikings (because they were MY team now) were about to make it to the big game. I was outlandishly dressed to mimic the super fans on the sidelines: Vikings sweatpants that my mom had made me, a randy moss jersey, a purple hoodie on underneath, a Vikings purple and gold stocking cap with what were essentially dreads coming out of it, my purple Vikings stuffed bear in one hand, a Vikings cup in the other, and a rubber purple and gold Vikings mask over my face. The Vikings were up 27-20 with 2:11 left in the fourth quarter, and Cunningham had just thrown the ball away to avoid a sack, bringing up fourth down and a nearly game sealing 39 yard field goal attempt by Gary Anderson. I was sweating, not just because of the moment, but because of all the stuff I was wearing. I quickly ripped the hat and mask off, waiting in anticipation for the kick that would send us to the Super Bowl. John Madden and Pat Summerall were calling the game, and as Anderson trotted out, Pat say's "And now they'll bring out Anderson, and Anderson hasn't missed in two years". The graphic is shown on the screen showing that Gary had made 122 consecutive kicks. This thing was in the bag. Down goes the snap, Anderson kicks, and the ball goes towards the uprights... and just left. Gary Fucking Anderson.

I stared at the screen with my mouth open. I didn't make a sound. I just wept. The Vikings were still ahead by 7 at this point, but I had just learned a vital lesson: Life as a Vikings fan would be painful. I don't remember seeing the rest of the game, much like soldiers will lose portions of their memory from PTSD. The Falcons went down the field and tied the game, sending it to overtime. The Vikings got the ball first, but ended up having to punt, and the Falcons got within field goal range, where Morten Anderson was able to make his kick and send the Falcons to Super Bowl XXXIII where they eventually lost to the Denver Broncos.

I felt robbed. Gary Fucking Anderson had one fucking job to do, and he had done it perfectly all the way up to that point, and he couldn't make one fucking kick. This moment was truly transformative for me as a boy, a person, a man, and a fan of football. I had to endure the mocking from Packers fans at school the entire next week, cementing a deep hatred for their putrid colors. It set in motion other changes in my life, such as playing football for the first time the next year. That 1998 season changed my life. It made me love football. It made me endure the pain of failure. The Vikings have made it to the same place in the NFC Championship several more times in my lifetime, and each have resulted in further pain. That 1998 season set in motion a passion for the sport, and made me into a football player. I was able to grow in a community of fellow Vikings fans and teammates who loved the game. It instilled a sort of comradery that I felt driven towards even to this day. I played high school football with the hopes of being able to play in college and maybe more before blowing out my knee my senior year. It drove me to go to Minnesota State University in Mankato, MN for college, not because the school was good for academics, but because it was the home of the Vikings training camp and I was able to rent a townhouse overlooking the practice fields. When I wasn't able to walk onto the team in Mankato, and longed to be a part of a team again and eventually dropped out of college and joined the Army.

I believe that football, and my Minnesota Vikings, for better or worse made me into the man I am today. I have a passion for my team and a passion for the game, and now as a part of the Lineman Lounge, I get to engross myself in everything football week in and week out. When it comes to my Vikings, I like to parrot the phrase used by one of my favorite Vikings centric podcasts Purple Daily, which is " All I want is a Super Bowl before I die". I don't know if I would carry the same sort of passion for my Vikings if Gary Fucking Anderson had made that field goal. Some might believe that you have to have those near unbearable lows in order to enjoy the blissful highs. What I do know is that I have a chronic diagnosis of Skoliosis.