I was the youngest child growing up. It was me and my older sister. She claims I would come up with chants then follow her around the house, repeating them all day long. It drove her crazy.

Being a little brother is really no different from being a Vikings fan.

On the surface we really have no business at all talking smack to Packer fans. The bottom line is painfully clear to all of us:

Packers - 3
Vikings - 0

The fact that we get them to even participate in a discussion with us speaks volumes of our ability to get under their skin. Here we are, all cocky and self-assured, cozy in our little dome. And there they are, the locally-owned storybook franchise, fighting it out on their frozen tundra.

But all that doesn't matter.

When the Packers win they smile and pat each other on the back. They might shoot a knowing smile our way, but rarely much more than that. When the Vikings win we scream until our voices are hoarse, at Packer fans.

Even in defeat we let them know why we lost. We soil their victories with a cocktail of poor sportsmanship and I-can-talk-longer-than-you ranting. It's not that we really are poor sports, it's just a natural reaction we have to dairy.

We've made them a paranoid bunch. Just look at the number of Packer comments on this Access Vikings page alone. Do you know a single Vikings fan who checks the Green Bay Press-Gazette?

And now the love of their lives has left them for us. Here comes Brett on his white horse, barely acknowledging the pain and suffering he has left in his wake.

Isn't it funny?

It's good to be a Vikings fan. No matter what the outcome, we will always be able to get into their (cheese)heads.

Author's Note: Reading the first couple of comments, I realize I should explain my platform. I grew up here, went to college in Winona and lived overseas briefly. My exposure to Packer fans has been more-or-less the same everywhere I've been in that they've always kind of given this gritted teeth smile, as if they're too proud to retaliate to prodding. I have never been a Vikings fan living in the lion's den of Wisconsin (and please continue to share your experiences). The closest I've come to experiencing the dark side of cheeseheads was at the Packer Hall of Fame when I had my picture taken tackling a Brett Favre statue. And even then it was more of a disappointed look, as if I were peeing on the side of a church instead.