Sunday, Mike Zimmer won his NFL head coaching debut by 28 points. On the road.

Monday, the popular Vikings coach stood in front of a declawed media trying to temper outside expectations. And, yes, it felt awkward. After all, Bill Belichick, the New England Patriots (0-1) and their 34-4 record after losses since 2003 were coming to town for the home opener at TCF Bank Stadium on Sunday.

Thursday, Zimmer got a good indication that all of his starters would be good to go against New England when cornerback Xavier Rhodes (groin) and defensive tackle Sharrif Floyd (shoulder) returned to practice. At full strength, the Patriots looked weak in run defense and pass protection, while the Vikings looked strong in running the ball and rushing the passer.

What could go wrong?

Friday. That's what could — and did — go very wrong.

It began normally enough with running back Adrian Peterson back at practice after missing what Zimmer jokingly referred to as a "veteran" day on Thursday. Peterson was spotted in the locker room looking happy and relaxed two days before he presumably would face a Patriots team that ranks 29th against the rush (191.0).

Within hours, word leaked out of Houston that Peterson had been indicted on a charge of reckless or negligent injury to a child after disciplining his 4-year-old son by beating him with a "switch." A warrant for his arrest required him to surrender in Houston.

Initially, fans wanted to know if Peterson would play on Sunday. But that changed rapidly as details of the police report and photos of the 4-year-old's injuries surfaced. When the Vikings deactivated Peterson for Sunday's game rather than wait for the legal process, queries shifted to whether Peterson will play again this season, or ever again for the Vikings.

The Vikings apparently have turned the timetable for Peterson's possible return over to the legal system. Meanwhile, embattled NFL Commissioner Roger Goodell, still reeling from Monday's TMZ release of video showing then-Ravens running back Ray Rice knocking out his then-fiancée with a punch in an elevator, almost certainly will make Peterson the 32nd player to be suspended at some point this season.

What a week.

The NFL has experienced more tumultuous times. For example, from 1920 to 1929 the league's very existence was challenged yearly as 44 teams sprouted, only to quickly fold.

However, it is unlikely the NFL has experienced another week quite like the one that just ended. With accompanying visual evidence, a woman was knocked out, a child was beaten badly enough with a tree branch to garner a grand jury indictment and an NFL commissioner fell under siege for his admitted mishandling of Rice's initial punishment and overall lack of control of the league.

Yes, the games will go on. But one needs to look no farther than TCF Bank Stadium and the Vikings' tremendously weakened offensive backfield to see that the league's off-the-field ugliness is consistently bleeding through the line that's supposed to protect the league's on-field game-day attractiveness.

This has been happening for a long time. Too long. But now seems like a good time to ask ourselves how many distasteful drips of ugliness into the attractive multibillion-dollar boat will it take for said boat to sink.

With history as our gauge, this appears to be an unsinkable ship. Kind of like what they said about the Titantic before it shoved off.

In no particular order, we've seen, well, pretty much everything. Or so we think, until the next incident.

We've seen Aaron Hernandez in a prison jumpsuit, indicted on three murder charges. We've seen the onetime face of the NFL, Michael Vick, serve time for abusing dogs. We've seen the once remarkably likable Darren Sharper charged in multiple states for drugging and raping women.

We've had owners suspended (Jim Irsay now and Eddie DeBartolo back in the day). We've had coaches suspended for a full season (Sean Payton). We've had organized intent to injure ("Bounty­gate") and organized intent to cheat ("Spygate").

We've had locker room bullying (Richie Incognito), an anti-gay remark that got an assistant coach suspended (Mike Priefer) and referees told to crack down on players taunting and using the "N word."

We've had a Hall of Famer suspended for gambling (Paul Hornung in 1963) and a Hall of Famer who took the nation on a White Bronco chase before his equally popular murder trial (O.J. Simpson in 1994). And next year, we'll have a man (Junior Seau) enter the Hall of Fame posthumously because he killed himself at 43 and was later found to have suffered from chronic traumatic encephalopathy (CTE), a type of chronic brain damage found in other deceased NFL players.

We've seen thousands of former players sue the league and charge that they were misled on the lasting impact of concussions. They settled for a lot of money. Next up appears to be former players suing over the misuse of painkillers.

We've seen Terrell Suggs accused of pouring bleach on his wife and kid. We've also seen Rae Carruth convicted of conspiring to murder a woman pregnant with his child. We've seen Ben Roethlisberger serve a six-game suspension for being accused of but not charged with sexually assaulting a college student in a bar bathroom.

We saw Leonard Little get probation after killing someone while driving drunk. Years later, he was arrested again for drunken driving. Donte' Stallworth ran over and killed someone while driving drunk. Josh Brent killed a teammate while driving drunk.

We could go on. And for anyone who enjoys the product on the field, that might be the saddest part of all.

Mark Craig • mcraig@startribune.com