A Fan Is Born

For the opening volley of the Flea Flicker, I will tackle fans.  If you're here, you're either a fan of some team or sport, or you're family.  Maybe both.  We become fans for so many reasons.  Location is a big one but not the only one.  I grew up in northern California, yet fell for the Minnesota Vikings.  It helped that my father never pushed me in any direction.  He was a San Francisco 49ers fan from the team's early days.  My father will be featured often in the Flicker as my football obsession is mostly his fault.  His passive nature made it easy to find a team other than the 49ers.  The Vikings' success in those days helped me find them.  The purple uniforms and horned helmets clinched it.  Besides, to this 9-year-old kid, San Francisco seemed as far away as Bloomington, Minnesota.  Despite nearly 40 years of frustration, I have never regretted my decision.  Many fans simply want to follow a champion.  I want that too, so very much, but I have found that the journey is special.  Each season I see every Viking that came before in the players I see now.  I dream of the day the Vikings bring a Lombardi to Minnesota.  I know that I will see it.  I wonder what I'll do.