The one great thing about the unholy marriage between football and alcohol is this: If the local NFL team is playing a large game and you're a sports writer not covering it in person, all that is required to find some ambience on the subject is to drop into a bar with the television access to attract fans.
A week ago, I was in southwest Florida, wound up at the Lighthouse Tiki Bar on Fort Myers Beach, and was rewarded with a large group of Vikings fans and a number of lively characters.
I was back in the Twin Cities on Sunday and trying to come up with a twist on the bar angle. And then it came to me:
The football gods had taken such good care of the 2017 Vikings that it seemed unavoidable that they would be playing in the Super Bowl for the first time in 41 years.
They had a quarterback hurt, and wound up with Case Keenum as a playmaking phenomenon. They injured the quarterback for Green Bay, and the hated rivals to the east turned into buffoons.
They won 11 of the last 12 to finish 13-3, and when faced with an impossible situation at the end of the first playoff game, they did the impossible. That made the Vikings the first-ever team to reach a conference championship game, when the Super Bowl then would be played in its home stadium.
All that stood in the way was Philadelphia, a No. 1 seed that had the life sucked out of its offense after losing quarterback Carson Wentz to injury. The Eagles used a buttoned-up style to beat Atlanta 15-10, but now came the Vikings, with better defense and a passing game to take advantage of Philly's mediocre cornerbacks.
Yeah, it was all sitting there for the Purple, and what better way to share this than with Packers fans, those wonderful Cheeseheads whose list of irritants starts this way: 1-A, Packers losing; and 1-B, Vikings winning.