I get asked this all the time: You grew up in Chicago, so why are you a Vikings fan?

My Chicago friends have a tad different way of phrasing the question — just insert various expletives wherever appropriate.

Anyway, it’s not that complicated. No one in my immediate family cared much for sports. My two older brothers didn’t like sports and my father, well, he didn’t follow sports much, though, later in life when he got sober he took joy in casually following the teams I liked. But I suspect he was cheering me on more than anything.

So that explains why I had no one to nudge me toward the Bears, but it still doesn’t explain my purple-and-gold passion. That, I’m sorry to say, Bears fans, is your fault. Back in the ’70s when I was a kid the Bears were so pitiful they couldn’t sell out their games and, consequently, the games were blacked out on TV. Instead, the networks carried the Vikings, a franchise then dominating the NFC with the legendary Purple People Eaters and unsackable quarterback Fran Tarkenton, who, despite his diminutive stature, managed to elude tacklers like Charlie Chaplain fleeing keystone cops.

Fascinating isn’t the right word — I was more spellbound than anything. In fact, I think my acumen at eluding my pursuers in games of Kill The Guy in those backyards when I was a kid was inspired by my hero worship of Tark. No one, I mean, no one could catch me. I usually just gave up and tossed the ball to someone else when I got bored. That was a good skill to have considering how many kids wanted to pound me for rooting for the Vikings — oh, and the Cubs, too. Remember, I grew up on the South Side — Sox country.

My point is, I know what it’s like to be in hostile territory. And I certainly know all about rivals.
But when Brett Favre, he of the hated Green Bay Packers flirted with the Vikings last year, I rejoiced. I didn’t care about the rivalry anymore. I knew he could get us to the Super Bowl, something I’ve waited 33 long years to experience again.

The last time, after the 1976 season, the Oakland Raiders thrashed the Vikings. I can still recall southpaw Kenny Stabler just surgically carving up the Vikings secondary. Forget that fierce pass rush that terrorized so many teams in the ’70s. Snake didn’t care. And on and on it went until the Raiders won 32-14, the most lopsided loss in Super Bowl history at the time. To think it was played in the Rose Bowl in Pasadena where I would move a quarter-century later is still an odd coincidence to me.

As I’ve told Mona, I thought, “Well, there’s always next year.” But there was never a next year. It was the end of the Vikings’ dominance. They had played in three Super Bowls in just four years. The next year they lost in the NFC championship game to the Dallas Cowboys who went on to win the Super Bowl.

After they barely made the playoffs in 1978, Tark hung up his spikes. The Rams, who we had tortured for years, finally beat us and beat us good.

The next time they would get a chance at the Super Bowl would be 1987 when they upset the New Orleans Saints and the San Francisco 49ers. Quarterback Wade Wilson couldn’t complete that pass in the waning seconds to beat Washington, though, and the Redskins went on to win the Super Bowl.
Then there was the shanked kick by Gary Anderson, who hadn’t missed a field goal all year in 1998, and the 16-1 team fell to the Atlanta Falcons as quarterback Randall Cunningham inexplicably took a knee at the end of regulation, pushing the game into overtime, rather than chuck a bomb to Randy Moss.

I won’t even mention the 41-doughnut debacle of 2000 — it’s still too embarrassing to talk about.
This season I kept wondering were they as good as that 1998 team or even those teams in the 70s? Could they make it to the big game again? Finally, after all those painful disappointments?

Yes, I concluded. And Favre would lead us there.

When Mona and I met 70s Vikings running back Brent McClanahan while watching the Vikings at our weekly hangout with the Southern California Vikings Club in Irvine, I asked him (and his three Super Bowl rings) how well this squad compared to the great teams. He was skeptical. He pointed out how difficult it is to compare eras, especially since Favre’s playbook was vastly more complex than Tarkenton’s. But he wasn’t sold on this team’s chances for the big one.

He was prescient.

I knew they were better than Dallas, and all that rah-rahing for the Cowboys drove me nuts all week, but I held my tongue. Still, I was surprised they won as convincingly as they did.

That boosted my confidence against the Saints, but I was still nervous. I knew turnovers would decide the game and that the Saints, although statistically they have a weak defense, they were an opportunistic bunch that took advantage of other teams’ mistakes.

And that’s what they did on Sunday.

The Vikings outplayed the Saints, but that doesn’t matter. They made terrible gaffes — the 12th man in the huddle (helloooooo Naufahu Tahi, what were you thinking?) will live in Vikings infamy.

But I am here to tell you I refuse to pile on Favre with all those other jilted fans.

Yes, he should have tried to run a few more yards instead of throwing that interception. But he had gotten hammered all game and I wouldn’t blame him for wanting to chuck that rock. He’s no Tarkenton — or Tarvaris Jackson, for that matter — when it comes to scrambling.

And remember, Tahi’s goof-up pushed them five yards back, motivating Favre to try to get a first down.
Yeah, they should have trusted Ryan Longwell to attempt a 55-yard field goal. It would have been unlikely but not utterly impossible.

But all that Monday-morning quarterbacking forgets the most obvious point: Favre put us in position to win that game. He’s the one who set career bests in completion percentage (68.4), quarterback rating (107.2) and fewest interceptions (7) as he threw for 33 TDs and 4,202 yards on the season.
So stop the Favre bashing, Vikings fans. I even heard one idiot who speculated Favre threw the interception on purpose. Puh-leaze.

Maybe he’ll come back next year. I hope so. Either way I hope we find out soon so we can maybe have enough time to put together a trade for Donovan McNabb if Favre prefers to sit on his tractor in Mississippi next year.

Meanwhile, I’ll revel in some good memories this year. I joined the Vikings club with Mona and got to see nearly every game on TV with other Vikings fans. You can’t beat that. And, still more exciting, I saw my first Vikings game in person (with Mona, of course) in Arizona.

I was saddened by Sunday’s loss, but I was nowhere near as crushed as I’ve been in the past. And that one’s easy to explain: I had Mona to console me.

We’re already looking forward to next year no matter what.

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