Minnesota Vikings: New Team, Same Old Wait for That Happy Ending

Apart, they are two words seeming unrelated, insignificant and meaningless. Hardly a context could make the term “wide left” relevant in any stretch of the imagination—much less make an upper Midwestern region nearly weep upon mentioning.

But when used in unison, it’s a pair that, even 11 years after the fact, can bring Minnesota Vikings fans to their knees.

On a chilly January afternoon in 1999, a sold out Metrodome crowd cheered with reckless abandon for what most viewed as a preconceived win.

Finishing the regular season 15-1 and rolling through Arizona in the NFC Divisional playoffs will do that to a fan base, and Minnesota entered that much celebrated NFC Championship contest against Atlanta knowing, expecting—even demanding—the Vikings would be playing in Super Bowl XXXIII.

Heck, even local radio stations got involved. Remember that remix of Will Smith’s hit, “Welcome to Miami?" Everyone in the Twin Cities figured the purple and gold were headed to South Beach for the Big Game.

Things turned out a bit differently. After Gary Anderson missed a game-sealing field goal “wide left” in the fourth quarter, the Falcons promptly tied the game and won on a 38-yard field goal by Morten Andersen in overtime.

When center Matt Birk signed with the Ravens in March, the last remaining member of that team 11 years ago left the Vikings locker room, ensuring the team has no current ties to that 1998 season.

Still, the memory remains painfully hard to forget. Like a sad movie you hate to love, fans hold onto that tearful kick just as much as the touchdowns, interceptions and lopsided wins.

How could they not? It was the ride of a lifetime.

From the moment that season began until Anderson’s kick against the Falcons, it was obvious the Vikings had a swagger, a presence, that other teams simply couldn’t match. It seemed too easy at times.

The Vikings scored 556 points, a league record they held until the undefeated 2008 New England Patriots, and fans taking a trip to the Dome understood they’d see a laser show of touchdown passes and magnificent plays.

How could they expect any thing less? Rookie Randy Moss grabbed a 40-yard touchdown pass on the first half of his first game—a foreshadowing tale if there ever was one in professional football. He, Cris Carter and Jake Reed kept secondaries off balance and indecisive.

And if a defense chose to abandon its run-stopping efforts to stop the trio of receivers, running back Robert Smith would break a run for 50 yards.

Unreal. Mythical. And as the story unfolded, too good to be true.

The Vikings lost but one game in the regular season, but aside from the quest for a perfect record, no tears were shed. Such a feat hadn’t been done in 26 years, and as competitive as the NFL seemed, no team would ever be perfect again.

That wasn’t the goal anyway. The prize was the Super Bowl.

And it was a long time coming.

Minnesota’s four fruitless trips to the Big Game in the 1970s seemed long gone when the new, high-flying and unstoppable Vikings were patrolling the Metrodome turf in 1998.

Suddenly, Denny Green’s machine-like squad looked like it could erase years of heartbreak, frustration and yearning for a title with one nearly flawless trip through the ’98 campaign.

This was their year. Let all who step on the field with Minnesota be warned in advance that the Vikings would come out victorious.

That is, until that fateful January afternoon.

When that football sailed left, optimism turned to disbelief—confidence to insanity. Could this be yet another let down? A fatal flaw for a flawless squad?

As it turned out, the self-proclaimed “Noisiest Stadium in the NFL” became a perfect locale for a silent auction by game’s end.

This 2009 Vikings team is none the wiser. None of these players were planning a trip to Miami for that Super Bowl, and none of them likely were in that Vikings locker room after the surprising defeat.

Nearly 11 years after the perfect letdown, this Vikings team embarks with a clean slate—knowing one win in February can give its fan base that sigh of relief it so desperately wants.

Meanwhile, those same fans keep waiting—and remembering—what could have been.