Mike Zimmer kept looking up as jets thundered overhead, as if yearning for a new quarterback or a reliable means of escape.

He was speaking on a podium next to the Vikings' practice field at palatial TCO Performance Center, and, considering the state of his team, seemed to be in a bemused mood. Either that, or he was practicing his gallows humor.

NFL head coaches are not often sympathetic figures. They have reached a career pinnacle. They have one of the 32 best jobs in the world for those who want to coach tackle football.

They possess power, influence, fame, money and membership in a club that allows them to promote family members. If they get fired, the NFL's insular coaching club will ensure that they land another high-paying job.

“I'm not very patient. I get upset when things don't go the right way”
Mike Zimmer

Like most head coaches, Zimmer is often grumpy and obfuscatory, and the last month or two have tapped his limited reservoir of patience.

His franchise quarterback is just one of his most important players who refuses to get vaccinated against COVID-19, displaying a form of selfishness that destroys any mirage of all-for-one team-building.

The star linebacker he pushed to re-sign, Anthony Barr, hasn't practiced since Aug. 5, one year after a mystery injury turned into a lost season for star defensive end Danielle Hunter.

The Vikings' last two drafts will offer little help to the team early in this season. Presumptive left tackle Christian Darrisaw is injured; Kellen Mond isn't ready to be a backup quarterback; handpicked coach Rick Dennison was reassigned after refusing to get vaccinated; Jeff Gladney was cut because of accusations of domestic violence; and young corner Cameron Dantzler has regressed.

Zimmer promoted Klint Kubiak to offensive coordinator so he could run his father, Gary's, two-tight-end offense, and then tight end Irv Smith Jr. went down because of a knee injury after being the rare starting skill position player to start in the final week of the preseason.

So I asked Zimmer if he feels he has been putting out fires for the last few months. He offered that wry smile again.

"I think it's been eight years," he said. "You know what? It's like that probably every place. Everybody has their trials and tribulations, I guess."

True, but the Vikings have a patent pending on internal drama, from The Original Whizzinator to Randy Moss' many antics to Keith Millard wrecking a drive-through to Adrian Peterson taking a switch to his son.

Zimmer himself saw drama in other places, particularly when he was coaching in Atlanta and head coach Bobby Petrino quit midseason, leaving behind a note.

I believe that one reason the NFL has become the dominant sport in America is that the league always skews dramatic. What feels like a crisis in each city becomes national advertising for a game that feels more like a life-and-near-death enterprise than any other.

Zimmer is 64-47-1 in the regular season. He is, objectively, a good coach. He can be criticized for a 2-3 playoff record, but he has yet to be given a top-10 quarterback.

In a week, Zimmer will open his eighth season as the Vikings' head coach. He is 65. This is likely his last head-coaching job, perhaps his last coaching job, period.

Zimmer's likely job status reflects the Vikings' state of being. If he wins, he will deserve coach-of-the-year consideration. If he loses, he'll probably be booking a one-way ticket on one of those jets that kept drowning him out on Wednesday.

"Seems like the book is going to be a good book, when I write it," he said, smiling again. "There's a lot that you guys don't know."

I told Zimmer that we had time to listen. "I'd have to go get my notes," he said.

The trite conclusion would be that Zimmer has learned to roll with the gut punches. But that's not how he's wired, and that's not how the NFL works. Every crisis is a threat to that season, and every season determines how your career will play out, and how you'll be remembered.

"I'm not very patient," he said. "I get upset when things don't go the right way."

He offered another smile. The way this summer went, those might soon be in shorter supply than vaccinated quarterbacks in the Vikings' locker room.