Aporia

Painting by George Schmidt; previously.

Minneapolitan South 12th -properly considered one of the all-time greats- and I have exchanged some jocular words on the upcoming Saints-Vikings game, but I can’t imagine anyone from beyond the Land of 10,000 Lakes rooting for that mercenary and geriatric team or against the City that Care Forgot.

I’ve been through many years of Saints failure, and as a college fan I’ve been at middling bowl games we’ve lost and at a National Championship we won, but I’ve never been as anxious as I am about this game: I’ve had trouble sleeping for nights. Even Terry Bradshaw -fellow Louisianian and lunatic- is affected:

“As a former player, I don’t get emotional about anything. The NFL phases me not. I could care less. My heart is with New Orleans, not Pittsburgh. It’s my home state, and that’s my team. I absolutely love ‘em, and I’m proud of ‘em. I want ‘em to win so bad I’m scared. I’m petrified.”

As much as I dislike Farve, at least Minneapolis is a real city with a real culture (one I know mainly through South 12th); to lose to a megalopolis of whose population perhaps 20% gives a damn would be too much to bear. Symbols and signs mean a lot more to some cities than to others.

If you need help getting in the mood, here is our song; if you prefer Prince, well: perhaps we’d rather you root for someone else.