STEELE SPORTS

This past weekend I was fortunate enough to take a road trip down to little old Trempealeau, Wis. to spend part of my weekend at a cabin with my girlfriend.

While I spent the majority of my time outdoors exploring the landscape along the Mississippi River, you would have to be crazy to think I was not going to wake up in time for the 8:30 a.m. Vikings game played in London on Sunday.

After catching the first half of the game at a local diner in town, my girlfriend and I decided that we should hit the road home in order to catch the Packers game later on with her family.

This is where I got to experience first-hand the superiority of Midwest sports culture.

While I was at least sane enough to enter the diner dawning colors of green and yellow to appease the local cheese-head crowd, I felt like an undercover agent as I cheered on the Vikings silently at my table.

That was until a subtle fist pump after a second-quarter fumble recovery by the Vikings blew my cover.

I was instantly met with a funny look and a “what’s that all about” from a group of Packers fans sitting a table over from me.

Luckily for me, as a sports bettor, I made up a quick lie that I had bet on the over for the game to try and at least save some face.

Needless to say, I ate my eggs and bacon fast and hit the road again to join a more welcoming crowd back in Minnesota for the tail end of the game.

My girlfriend and I settled on stopping in Lake City, where we found a small bar on Lake Pepin to close out the final four minutes of the game.

After three minutes that felt more like hours, we sat in anticipation as New Orleans kicker Wil Lutz lined up for his 61-yard attempt.

When we first entered the bar, conversation and cheers ran wild amongst a sea of purple jerseys from wall to wall.

Now the place had fallen under an eerie quiet where you could almost hear your own heartbeat.

When I saw the kick fly through the air trending toward splitting the uprights, I will admit that I had lost pretty much all confidence in the Vikings winning the game.

That was until I heard the beautiful sound of the infamous “double-doink” and the cheers from my peers around me.

In true Minnesota fashion, the win was celebrated not only with hugs and hi-fives, but also with a free round of beer on the house – seemingly a form of medication for the fans in attendance who went through a week’s worth of emotions in a 60-minute stretch.

Through it all though, what I was able to gather from my day split between Wisconsin and Minnesota, is that Midwest sports will always be undefeated in my eyes.

Even having lived in the Bay Area and dealt with the divide between 49ers and Raiders fans, I have never seen more passionate football fanbases than those in Minnesota and Wisconsin.

Through all of the hatred, history and passion, you have to respect two fanbases who are willing to coexist amongst one another while secretly wishing for the other side’s downfall.