The chants echoed off the Teflon ceiling and every wall of the old Metrodome. Louder and louder, with enough emotion to cause goose bumps and ringing ears.

MVP! MVP! MVP!

Adrian Peterson's teammates mobbed him. One player picked him up and carried him off the field. The place roared with appreciation.

MVP! MVP! MVP!

Peterson's final run of the 2012 season left him a hair shy of the NFL's single-season rushing record — by 8 measly yards — but even that missed shot at history couldn't spoil the party.

Peterson had put the Vikings on his shoulders and willed them to the postseason a year removed from shredding knee ligaments. He played the role of superman that season.

The Vikings needed to defeat the Green Bay Packers in the final game to secure their playoff berth. Peterson rushed for 199 yards in hot pursuit of Eric Dickerson's record as fans celebrated and counted every yard he covered.

In eight years in Minnesota, nothing matched that moment for Peterson. Nothing on the field, at least. His approval rating among Vikings fans that season, and that December day in particular, probably rivaled that of any superstar in any sport.

That was less than two years ago.

And now?

Walk into any coffee shop around town and you'll probably find 15 different viewpoints.

How will you remember Peterson, if the season-ending suspension handed down by Roger Goodell on Tuesday ultimately brings Peterson's time in a Vikings uniform to a close?

Will you still admire his Hall of Fame talent? His ruthless running style, 296 vs. San Diego, his firm handshake, his humble nature, his dogged determination in rehabbing ACL surgery, his MVP season, that crazy run at Cleveland?

Or is there too much baggage now to appreciate and embrace the good?

What a stunning fall from grace. Peterson's legacy will forever include child-abuse charges and those horrible photos of his 4-year-old son.

His actions, however they were intended, were deplorable. He whipped his son with a stick so severely that he caused injuries. Everything about that statement is sad.

The fallout of this case seems to have divided the Vikings fan base. Maybe even created opposing views within the organization in terms of acceptance and how Peterson should be treated.

Many fans still love Peterson and believe he's being too severely punished by an overzealous commissioner. And many fans want nothing to do with him and prefer he never wears a Vikings uniform again.

I've heard from both sides plenty the past two months. My stance remains that Peterson deserved additional punishment (hefty fine and/or suspension and counseling) but should be allowed to return this season.

This case has stirred so many different emotions in people and renewed national debate over corporal punishment and turned a beloved superstar into a pariah in the eyes' of some fans.

Still unknown is how this story ends. Even before Peterson's legal problems, my belief was that this would be his final season in Minnesota. His massive contract, age and injury history work against him.

If he's not released outright — an option that now seems plausible — the Vikings almost certainly will ask him to take a pay cut. Peterson likely would balk at that request.

Now it's fair to wonder if Peterson even would want to return to Minnesota. And are the Vikings privately ready to move on from him, too?

Imagine how absurd that notion would have sounded not too long ago.

At the height of his popularity, Peterson was Kirby and KG, beloved by kids and adults alike. He is the Star Tribune's only two-time winner of the Sportsperson of the Year. How many No. 28 jerseys were wrapped and left under Christmas trees the past eight years?

Two years ago, Peterson received a hero's ride off the field as fans chanted "MVP" and the Vikings celebrated having the best player in the NFL on their side.

Now, he's out of football, out of sight and maybe even ultimately out of town.

What a stunning downfall.

Chip Scoggins • chip.scoggins@startribune.com