It would be inaccurate to call the Minnesota Vikings’ unprecedented comeback against the Indianapolis Colts an emotional roller coaster because roller coasters have ups and downs. Maybe a fun little loop here and there. No, this experience was more like skydiving with a failed parachute: free-fall plunging 11,000 feet and crashing through a building skylight, only to land in a pillowy vat of sweetness inside a cotton candy factory.
Fans who sat through all four-plus hours of this emotion-fraying insanity inevitably walked away changed. Some folks may have needed to go on a long winter walk and stare silently at a frozen lake to process what they just witnessed. Others, coming down from the peak of a football high, may find themselves serotonin-deprived for the next 48 hours; food tasting bland, the clouds looking a shade darker, their children’s laughter sounding a little less melodic. Perhaps you think you’re unaffected, but days or even months from now you may break into a sudden panic-sweat in the cereal aisle at Target, uncontrollably shouting, “How could they possibly call Chandon Sullivan down by contact when he scooped up the ball untouched! That was a touchdown!”
You’re not alone, fellow member of the Purple Panic Patrol. In a season seemingly engineered in a lab to cause high blood pressure, the Saturday afternoon comeback against the Colts, digging out of an abysmal 33-0 deficit, was enough to send the Dali Lama into conniption fits.
To help others begin the healing, here is a timeline of one fan’s emotional journey through this truly astonishing 39-36 overtime comeback win. (It’s me. I am the fan.)
Pre-game: Time to shovel another few inches of snow in this days-long storm. It’ll be nice to get a little exercise in before this Saturday afternoon game. Should be an easy win to start the weekend. Playoffs, here we come!
11:40, Q1: Shoveling took a bit longer than expected. Looks like I missed kickoff. Well, shouldn’t have been much action yet — hey, wait, how are the Colts in the red zone already?
End of Q1: Stomp into kitchen, where my wife is baking Christmas cookies. Grumble about the blocked punt, Dalvin Cook’s fumble, the failed fourth-and-one. “It’s the Vikings,” she gently reminds me. I stress-eat five unfrosted cookies standing at the counter: a bell, a wreath, a Santa, and a pair of snowmen. Seventeen points is doable — it’s not the biggest deficit ever, that’s for sure.
11:02, Q2: A failed fake punt down 20 to a team led by Kirk Cousins’ grandfather and coached by a dude so unqualified it caused Bill Cowher to start speaking in tongues on national television. Hello darkness, my old friend. Would you like a Christmas cookie?
5:50, Q2: Thirty points. They’re losing by thirty. Points. The offense may never score again. The Colts might overload the scoreboard and cause it to explode in a hail of sparks like the stadium lights at the end of The Natural. This is awful. Why do I spend so much of my life obsessed with football? I could use this time to better myself. I could download an app on my phone to learn Spanish. That would begin some personal growth.
Halftime: I learned today that I have a soul. And I only know that because I felt it peel away from my body and soar into the cosmos to escape this wretched, Earth-bound existence. The Vikings are down 33-0. No team that loses this game this badly could ever hope to win in the playoffs. What we’re witnessing here isn’t just potentially one of the worst losses ever, but the dark omen of several losses to come. The only smart move is to dive deeper into the abyss: I will go Christmas shopping at the mall. Right after I hit up the cookie pan for another wreath and two Santas.
8:22, Q3: Got my coat on, all ready to go buy some last-minute Christmas gifts. But, lo and behold, K.J. Osborn scored a touchdown. At least he’s having a good afternoon during this embarrassment. I’ll just stand here and watch a few more minutes before I go.
12:53, Q4: ¡Otro touchdown! ¡Los Vikingos van a ganar este juego! (Man, this Duolingo app really works.)
5:30, Q4: It’s a one-score game! Am I sweating because of the football or because I forgot to take my coat off? Might as well. I’m not going anywhere. Just in case…
3:23, Q4: This is the greatest injustice of all time. Chandon Sullivan clearly picked up the ball without being contacted and ran into the end zone. This is the second time the refs have cost the Vikings points with a terrible call. Not to mention the non-facemask penalty that ruined Jalen Reagor’s big return. Sacco and Vanzetti, Richard Jewel, Andy DuFresne — their experience pales before the blasphemy against truth we are witnessing today. I fully expect Governor Tim Walz to file a lawsuit against the NFL on Monday morning at 8:00 a.m., sharp.
2:15, Q4: Touchdown! They’ve tied it! This is the greatest feeling I’ve ever had about something that should have been easy and not stressful at all! But I will not question how excited I am to tie it up with the 4-8-1 Colts! Merry Christmas, Bedford Falls!
2:46, OT: Am I hoping for a tie at this point? It would clinch the division. Would it still be considered the greatest comeback in NFL history? That I’m even considering it makes me doubt my sanity.
0:40, OT: I am pure energy, vibrating at a frequency imperceptible to the five human senses. The Vikings are at the edge of field goal range. I am one with the vibe of the game. The Vikings are the best team ever and I’m the best at watching football ever and its not my fault that my wife and both cats have fled the room. I am surrounded by a nimbus of Christmas cookie crumbs. I am ready for some football.
0:10, OT: The Colts are still group-tackling Justin Jefferson after the whistle! Now they’re physically pushing T.J. Hockenson down! I swear in the names of all the Gods, if you garbage officials do not call a delay-of-game penalty I will enroll in referee school, study harder than anyone has ever studied before, and quickly ascend the ranks until I am one of your colleagues in the NFL. Then I will spend the rest of my life playing incredibly petty and elaborate pranks on you in the referee locker room until your entire life is a fog of anger and paranoia.
0:05, OT: Flag. Okay. Good call.
0:05, OT: And it comes down to the kicker. It’s silly to believe in curses, but every time it comes down to a kick all my internal organs start to rearrange themselves and my hair stands on end like I’ve been electrocuted. Which is normal, right? Besides, Greg Joseph is killer from 40 yards out. Just don’t rely on him from 50 … or 20. But this is his wheelhouse. Blair Walsh? Never heard that name before.
0:03, OT: Vikings win! Get me my hat and my T-shirt, we’re going to the playoffs! I can’t feel my feet! Might be cookie-related! But that’s okay, because we just witnessed history! And…wait, what do you mean we have to do this again next week?
