You may have seen those lists of Minnesota pro sports teams’ flops. Many times, the Vikings, North Stars, Wild, and Timberwolves have had good seasons. Those were followed by epic losses in the playoffs, smashing fans’ hopes against the rocks.

Of cities with the four major men’s sports, Minneapolis/ St. Paul has the longest drought of championships.

The Twins did win the World Series in 1987 and 1991. Those were years I was boycotting the Metrodome because God means baseball to be played outdoors. So, I experienced those listening to the radio.

Since then, the Twins had a streak of nineteen straight playoff losses. It isn’t possible to lose nineteen straight playoff games. But they did it, in true Minnesota sports fashion.

One bright light in this darkness. We came to find out Minnesota’s jinxed sports status is a guy thing. The women Lynx and Frost have won championships.

Of hundreds of frustrating moments for supporters of the men’s teams, one stands out for fans of my vintage. Fifty years ago, December 28, 1975, was a particularly galling defeat.

Let’s be clear about this. Drew Pearson pushed Nate Wright. The Cowboys cheated. The refs were blind.

This is ancient history now. But the Minnesota Vikings were one of the best teams in the NFL in the 1970’s. Good enough to make it to four Super Bowls. And lose. I remember each of those. They were pivotal in my transition from boyish exuberance and optimism to the sinking pessimism of adulthood.

Those were teams of Viking legends: Alan Page, Jim Marshall, Fran Tarkenton.

Bud Grant led them. He played for the University of Minnesota. He was good enough to play pro basketball and football, before becoming a coach. Bud hunted and fished and dressed like a Minnesotan.

Grant wore the same jacket and facial expression whether it was sixty degrees or ten below. He had a calm, steady glare. Every report ever done about the Vikings began with “the stoic Bud Grant.”

It was a wonderful time to be a Vikings fan, with a core of likeable stars. They played outdoors, where every game was given its own unique character by the weather. It was great run, only lacking a Super Bowl win.

In 1975, the Vikings had the best record in the regular season. Running back Chuck Foreman joined the ranks of Viking heroes. His spinning, twisting moves were a type of artistry.

The Cowboys were also consistently good. They had been to three Super Bowls and even had the good fortune of winning one in 1972. In 1975, Dallas slipped a bit and needed the Wild Card spot to get into the playoffs.

The warm weather Cowboys had to open the playoffs on our piece of frozen tundra. The Vikings were favored. Film shows the Cowboys coach Tom Landry looking miserable in the twenty-degree air. Meanwhile, Grant looked like he was ready for a backyard barbecue.

The Vikings consistently sold out Met Stadium. I was going to St. Thomas then. I drove out to Bloomington and stood in line at a ticket booth to buy three tickets.

I prided myself on being a good uncle. I took along my nephews Scott and Steve. It was overcast besides cold. We probably wore snowmobile suits; everyone had those back then. Our seats were second deck, behind the third base line, if you imagine the ballfield where the Twins played. If you don’t imagine a baseball field, we were behind an end zone.

The game was close and low scoring. That was true for all Vikings games then. The Purple People Eater defense was ever stingy. And Bud Grant was likely to settle for just enough points “grinding it out.” It was the type of game that Met Stadium called for once the winter winds blew.

The Vikings led 7 to 0 at halftime. Chuck Foreman scored on a one-yard touchdown run, followed by an extra point by Fred Cox. Cox was a kicker out of the 1950’s, the last straight-on kicker as “soccer-style” was taking over.

The Cowboys tied in the third quarter and went ahead with a field goal in the fourth. Brent McClanahan ran in another one-yard touchdown for the Vikings, and they led 14 to 10 as the clock ticked down. It looked like a classic, formulaic Vikings win.

The teeth-chattering team from Texas had the ball on the fifty-yard line with 32 seconds left. Some fans were leaving. I’ve never believed in leaving anything early, whether it’s church or a game.

We got to see one of the most famous or infamous plays in NFL history. Roger Staubach stepped back and threw a long pass to the right field corner. Later to reporters, Staubach said “I guess it was a Hail Mary pass. You throw it up and pray he catches it.”

I don’t know about Mary’s involvement, but Drew Pearson gave an illegal shove to safety Nate Wright before spinning and catching the ball. A few steps later he was in the end zone, ruining the Vikings’ chances to go to another Super Bowl.

Video shows Pearson throwing the ball over the right field scoreboard. A friend, Tom Bruess, was a young man working on the grounds crew. Pearson ran in front of him. Tom could hear Cowboy teammate Golden Richards run up to Pearson and yell, “Throw that BLEEP BLEEP ball out of here!” It was if to destroy evidence.

Everybody in the stadium except the referees knew that Pearson pushed off. Fans were throwing things onto the field in protest. From the opposite side of the field, I saw a whisky bottle flying high in the air before conking one of the referees in the head, dropping him to the ground.

Right there was the origin of the conspiracy theory that ever since, referees and umpires have been in cahoots to see that no Minnesota team wins a championship. I assume the umpires in 1987 and 1991 didn’t get the message.

I have never seen so many drunken, angry people in my life. On our way to the car, we encountered several fights, I was nervous for my younger nephews and kept them close.

Years later, I went to the Pro Football Hall of Fame in Canton, Ohio. As I walked in, a video screen was playing great plays in NFL history. Guess what was playing? In my head, I screamed, “Cheater!”

— Randy Krzmarzick farms on the home place west of Sleepy Eye, where he lives with his wife, Pam.