(Based on O Captain! My Captain! By Walt Whitman)
O Vikings! My Vikings! Our championship trek is done;
The team has weather’d many a game, but the prize we sought was not won;
Some fans are mad, some fans are sad, but few may be exhaling,
If not to think of a Super Bowl Trip, and a team they love a-flailing.
But O heart! heart! heart!
O the bleeding drops of purple,
Where on the turf our season lies,
Fallen cold and dead.
O Vikings! My Vikings! Remember the game with the Saints;
A toss to the sideline, and the safety seemingly faints.
As the crowd roars, the ball soars, a spiral from the hands of Case,
Like a dream for all, Diggs hauls in the ball, and he is off on a race.
But Vikings! O Vikings!
To where has this play led,
One big win, but still a season
Fallen cold and dead.
The players do not answer, demeanors like statues of stone,
Coach Zim surveys the masses, and takes off his glasses, for later, they will be thrown.
He looks at Case, then Sam, and finally Teddy,
All pondering the future, each a free agent to be.
But this is the present, O Vikings!
The final game fills me with dread,
And leaves me thinking about another lost season,
Fallen cold and dead.
But fear not O Vikings! For the future must be bright!
The defense is stout, Thielen and Diggs running routes, and Dalvin is coming back, right?
The past has given us Favre picks, Foles driving for six, and Blair Walsh going wide left,
Actually. Nevermind. What am I saying? We are effed.
But fear not O Vikings!
From this team I have not fled;
But please, can we please just win one Super Bowl, before I have
Fallen cold and dead.
