At training camp, the guy wore number 32. The man could have been the greatest running back ever.
But he wasn’t-- certainly, not then. Why?
It was the age of Tommy Kramer and Darrin Nelson and Anthony Carter and Greg Coleman, an era in which Bud Grant still walked the sidelines, not the garage sales. The troughs in the Metrodome were almost like new then. Maybe that was why the lines there were so long to see them!
(Naw. That wasn’t it. Fear the beer, for you’ll miss the third quarter.)
Although Number 32 looked good in preseason that year, he in fact did not play for the Minnesota Vikings in any regular season game, or ever again in the NFL.
Pity, Yorick, for he was Chuck Muncie.
Maybe he just took that pitch from Atlanta and Madison Avenue from The Sixties the wrong way. Things don’t go better with that kind of coke, dude. (Ironically, 1985 was also the year of New Coke, but Chuck’s brainstorm of a lifestyle went on to make even New Coke look like a success story.)
Chuck was suspended for game one of the season in 1985, and thereby, his shot at a comeback was also shot to hell.
But once upon a time, the former California Bear was the running part of Air Coryell. (Yep. People often forget that even many aircraft need wheels to get things where they are going.)
Chuck was taller than All Day. He was bigger than All Day. He was even faster than All Day.
On the other hand, he became homeless.
He died last year of a heart attack.
Unlike Mr. Peterson, Mr. Muncie boarded the train bound for nowhere, and he never returned.
Moral: Lack of discipline can be fatal.
The Vikings only finished 7-9 in 1985. We got off easy. We could have traded a whole team for a running back (and --wait for it-- later, we did).
But keep the faith! Mistakes are a part of progress. If you even make enough mistakes, you can get viable light bulbs, and believe me, Edison was wrong about a lot of things. You can berate trial-and-error all you want, but if not for such methods, you wouldn’t be here.
So now, let’s look out into left field in this football blog. You may think I have my wires crossed, but I’m making connections.
Sure, Bill Musgrave was an Oregon Duck QB. Some say if it walks like a duck and quacks like a duck, well, it’s a duck. Not so fast, Ducky! (Yes, it’s Memorial Day weekend, so I threw in a free NCIS joke, Doc.) Before Bill had had his shot, Norv Turner was an Oregon Duck QB, too, but you never saw him playing all that much. That is because that other concurrent Duck QB was the man whom they happened to call Dan Fouts.
Yes, these devilish details can change the whole storyline of history. You’re moving though another dimension. Indeed we are, Rod.
What would Chuck have been if the parallel lines he was doing only led to the end zone? Maybe we can run an experiment and find out.
Let’s call our little project The 2014 Vikings. Eh, Zim?
"Z-fence, Z-fence, thick brick wall.; Offense, offense: charge that ball!"Wow, that awful chant really needs some work to make it get anywhere near awesome! But let us remember what it was Cal Coolidge told us about persistence.
Maybe a million amps would shed such sparks as certain fools do not seemingly expect.
No, that was not Cal. It’s the new form of "Skol, Vikings, let’s go! "
We’ve stood in much longer lines than this! After all, reporters failed to show up the day that Tesla lit up Buffalo, because an expert (Edison) had said that it wouldn’t work. (Oops, there goes a million kilowatt… Clean up on aisle eight. "Attention, attention : Paging General Electric. Please report to the latrine."
Radar love! No. Wait! I think I’m getting a Moontan.By the way, I saw a Tesla on the road the other day, but then when you drive in Silicon Valley, it’s like another world. Just because you can't see them were you live does not mean they do not exist.
Teddy is better than Russell Wilson. I could dig out the stats for that, but that’s Arif’s thing. You think humanity is logical? So I walked into this bar, and a bunch of scientists invented a bomb that could destroy the planet.
You think we should 86 this Air Coryell 9.0 plan? Sure, I know. History says putting the word "new" on the old can could be quite a dangerous move here, Chief. But consider that Norv and Zim have seen the inside of the Super Bowl before as coaches, and even my dog can get home in a storm. Been there, done that.
(Ow! Don’t throw that shoe phone so hard!)
Dream of flying! Let’s see: what would a WWII aviator like my Dad do? Before takeoff, get out the Don Coryell checklist.
Tall receiver – check
Power runner – check.
Catching tight end – check.
Offensive line strength – "Yes, Coach Marcus, we have lift off, lift off of Air Coryell Version 9.0…"
Or as even that old TV bus driver like Ralph Cramden was want to say, "One of these days, Alice: Pow! Zoom! Straight to the moon!"
That’s one small step for man… Holy Wapakoneta! Dad-gum Dayton, Ohio! The Wright brothers! Hanger 18!
Yep, to my way of thinking, it all fits. Hold on to your used beer, my fine-feathered friends, we’re about to turn the gosh-darned gravity off at TCF Stadium, for the times they are a changing.
"You can say that I’m Looney Tunes, I’ll understand; …but, don’t tell me that I never warned you!"