Vikings owner Zygmunt Wilf pays a visit to coach Brad Childress at practice…
Zygmunt: So Chilly…
Chilly: Yes Zygmunt…
Zygmunt: Having yourselves a practice eh?
Chilly: Sure are Zygmunt…
Zygmunt: Mighty fine players we’ve got here.
Chilly: Strapping young lads aren’t they?
Zygmunt: Yes indeed.
Chilly: I especially like our quarterback.
Zygmunt: Oh, you do
Chilly: Yes sir. I like him a lot.
Zygmunt: What do you like about him so much?
Chilly: I like the cut of his jib.
Zygmunt: You do eh?
Chilly: I also like his essay in the huddle.
Zygmunt: Oh you do.
Chilly: He knows when to breathe and when not to breathe.
Zygmunt: That’s very important eh?
Chilly: You have to breathe in the right places.
Zygmunt: I’d say breathing is very important…
Chilly: He also has a very good arm.
Zygmunt: A good arm huh?
Chilly: He’s going to throw one right now.
Zygmunt: Well let’s see this…
Chilly: He’s going to let this one go.
Zygmunt: I see, there it goes…
Chilly: Look at that arc.
Zygmunt: That’s some fine arc.
Chilly: Yes indeed…
Zygmunt: Looks like the other man dropped it though.
Chilly: Yes I saw that.
Zygmunt: My understanding is that he’s supposed to catch it.
Chilly: That is the general idea.
Zygmunt: Maybe you need to explain it to him again.
Chilly: Well I have boss…
Zygmunt: Oh? And what did he say?
Chilly: Apparently the young man has a weak right eye.
Zygmunt: A what?
Chilly: A weak right eye. Some kind of childhood accident involving a rubber band…
Zygmunt: You don’t say?
Chilly: It’s terrible for him.
Zygmunt: And that keeps him from being able to catch it?
Chilly: Well apparently…
Zygmunt: Seems to me that would have more to do with his hands…
Chilly: Well you have to look the ball into your hands…
Zygmunt: I see. And the weak right eye…
Chilly: Makes it hard for him. But we’re working on it.
Zygmunt: Oh. What are you doing for it?
Chilly: Well we’re shooting balls at him with that machine over there…
Zygmunt: Oh I see…
Chilly: And he catches them.
Zygmunt: And he doesn’t have any trouble catching the balls that the machine shoots at him?
Chilly: No sir. Matter of fact he never misses…
Zygmunt: Never misses eh?
Chilly: No sir.
Zygmunt: Well, maybe we should get one of those machines to be our quarterback.
Chilly: Well I don’t think that would work sir.
Zygmunt: You don’t?
Chilly: No sir.
Zygmunt: Well why not?
Chilly: To be honest with you we tried it already.
Zygmunt: Oh you did?
Chilly: Yes sir. And there were a few problems.
Zygmunt: Like what for instance?
Chilly: Well, for one thing it’s awfully heavy. It took two of our big boys to push it around back there, and it kept tipping over…
Zygmunt: That’s a problem is it?
Chilly: Yes it is. So, we tried putting wheels on it…
Zygmunt: That sounds like a good idea.
Chilly: I thought so too. But then we found out you couldn’t stop it. One of our towel-boys was critically injured.
Zygmunt: I remember that. Sent him flowers…
Chilly: It was tragic.
Zygmunt: Very.
Chilly: So we had to go back to our human quarterback.
Zygmunt: I see. Very sound thinking.
Chilly: Thank you.
Zygmunt: You’re welcome.
Chilly: He’s got a heck of an arm that kid.
Zygmunt: And he breathes well.
Chilly: He’s gonna let go of another one here…
Zygmunt: Let’s see this then…
Chilly: There it goes…
Zygmunt: Well, looks like he missed his man.
Chilly: A little high on that one…
Zygmunt: What was that thud I heard?
Chilly: I believe he hit an airplane…
Zygmunt: Well that could be a problem…
Chilly: We have to call the FAA and have them re-route the flights away from the practice field…
Zygmunt: Or maybe you could tell the man to throw them lower.
Chilly: Well we already did that.
Zygmunt: Oh you did. And what did he say?
Chilly: Well he said he had too much adrenaline.
Zygmunt: Too much adrenaline eh?
Chilly: It makes the ball go higher.
Zygmunt: Sounds like we need to cut down on his adrenaline. Maybe he should have a nice milk-shake instead…
Chilly: Well sir, actually, adrenaline isn’t a drink.
Zygmunt: It isn’t? Well what is it then…
Chilly: It’s actually a glandular secretion…
Zygmunt: Oh I see. Sort of like a rock.
Chilly: A what?
Zygmunt: A rock. A secretion.
Chilly: I never heard that one sir.
Zygmunt: Well, that’s all right. You don’t have time to read up on these things.
Chilly: I guess not sir.
Zygmunt: You’re too busy working out here with these fine young lads…
Chilly: That’s true sir.
Zygmunt: You leave the secretions to me Chilly and take care of that kid’s right eye.
Chilly: Will-do sir.
Zygmunt: All right Chilly. I’ll see you later.
Chilly: Goodbye Zygmunt. Hey, let’s have lunch some time.
Zygmunt: Absolutely. I’ll give you my number and then you can lose it…