On one cold October Sunday afternoon in northern Minnesota, I was out deer hunting with my dad. Our strategy was simple: stand silently in one place until a deer walked by, and then shoot it. In my entire history of deer hunting, I never even saw one, much less shot one.
After standing, freezing for several hours we had agreed to meet back at the car for warming up. My dad started the car and turned on the radio (our first car that actually had a radio in it.) The Vikings game was on. Our warmup just happened to be at the same time that Marshall made his infamous wrong way run. I still remember the announcer yell: “He’s running the wrong way!”
A classic memory you must have cherished for years