The Minnesota Vikings Put Me on the Field. This Seems Like Poor Judgment.

 

The Minnesota Vikings Put Me on the Field. 

This Seems Like Poor Judgment.

Todd Swank's Diary Entry for August 9, 2026

Hard to believe it’s already football season, but apparently time doesn’t care what I think. So on Saturday, we headed to Eagan and the Twin Cities Orthopedics Performance Center to investigate. We had a pretty good idea what we’d find there, but we definitely didn’t know where the day was going to take us.

Of course, we were there for Minnesota Vikings Training Camp, our annual ritual to get a sneak peek at the returning veterans and new additions who will own our emotions for the next several months. Every August, hope is undefeated, the roster looks loaded, and this absolutely feels like the year they finally make the Super Bowl run they so richly deserve. Please don’t check back with me in January.

We’ve been Vikings season ticket holders for several years now, and I have to admit they take pretty good care of us. Four free training camp tickets, a couple free drinks, an air-conditioned room to escape the heat, and even an autographed player photo. Granted, it was a player who may not still be on an NFL roster by October, but I’m choosing to call it a collectible.

They even gave us four free passes to the Vikings Museum, which is pretty cool, although this was our fourth trip and shockingly the exhibits haven’t changed much. Minneapolis Miracle? Still miraculous. Purple People Eaters? Still purple. Moss, Peterson, Tarkenton? Still legends. And that giant Super Bowl trophy display I keep expecting to see? Still apparently under construction. I’m starting to think they may be waiting for us to actually win one before building it.

Luke, Avery, and Abby joined us for the day, which felt like a minor miracle all by itself. Getting all three of them free on the same Saturday isn’t easy anymore, so naturally I’m taking it as a sign. If the universe can pull that off, surely the Vikings can finally figure out the Super Bowl thing.

Then came the coolest surprise of the day. While checking in, I ran into someone I knew from the Vikings organization from our London trip. As we were talking, one of his colleagues suddenly asked, “Hey, how would you guys like to go on the field before practice and lead the SKOL chant?” I believe I said yes before he finished the sentence. Stand on the field in front of the whole crowd, throw my arms in the air, and scream SKOL at the top of my lungs? You had me at SKOL.

I’d love to say our SKOL chant shook the entire place, but honestly it was kind of a bust. We were off to the side with no microphone, so most of the crowd seemed to have no idea we were even doing it. By the end, maybe a quarter of them were following along. Not exactly the roar I had pictured in my head. Still, getting to stand on that field for a while was pretty damn cool.

Part of the fantasy of getting on the field is hoping somebody in the organization notices you and says, “Hey, we could use that guy.” I mean, look at these dudes. Big, strong, athletic... sure. But I feel like I could hang with them for a while. Maybe not physically, but conversationally I’d be a huge locker-room asset.

Pretty soon it was time to head back to our seats and let the actual football players have the field, which was probably best for everyone. I loved watching our favorites get ready for battle, especially Justin Jefferson. The guy just moves differently than everybody else. Even at practice, he somehow makes running around in 85-degree heat look ridiculously cool.

Of course, all the buzz surrounds the quarterback battle. Who’s going to win the job between Kyler Murray and J.J. McCarthy? I was hoping watching them go head-to-head in practice would give me some insider clarity. After carefully studying both of them for several minutes, I can confidently report that I still have absolutely no idea.

J.J. McCarthy has been a frustrating watch the past couple years, mostly because he’s spent so much time injured. We’ve seen flashes where he looks like a real NFL quarterback, and plenty of others where he looks like he just wandered into the huddle by accident. So I’ll admit I was pretty happy when the Vikings announced they were bringing in some real competition at the position this year.

The knock on Kyler Murray has always been his size, and seeing him on the field next to the other guys really drives it home. It’s like somebody’s little brother wandered into the team photo and then refused to leave. But I watched him with Arizona and remember plenty of great stretches. He’s quick, dangerous with his feet, and can absolutely sling it. Put that behind this offense and I’m pretty excited to see what happens.

I have faith in the “Quarterback Whisperer” Kevin O’Connell. Whoever he picks to lead this team Week 1, I’m convinced the Vikings are going to surprise a lot of people this year. Of course, I say some version of that every August, then spend January explaining why next year will be different. But this year really will be different. I can feel it. Which is exactly what worries me.

@toddswank Vikings Training Camp - August 8, 2026 #minnesota #vikings #trainingcamp ♬ original sound - Soul of Afrika

@toddswank Justin Jefferson is loading up for 2026! #minnesota #vikings #justinjefferson ♬ som original - DJ Monster

@toddswank Minnesota Vikings Trainig Camp 2026 #vikings #trainingcamp #nfl ♬ sonido original - Grandes Exitos

Spending the Afternoon with Caitlin Clark

 

Spending the Afternoon with Caitlin Clark

Todd Swank's Diary Entry for August 2, 2026

Thursday night, Sue and Ron Korkowski finally joined us for a cruise around Prior Lake. We had planned it two weeks earlier, but smoke from the Minnesota and Canadian forest fires turned the sky into something that looked better suited for a dystopian movie than a boat ride. This time the air was clear, the lake was calm, and we were ready to cruise like four people who had personally defeated Canada.

We used to take friends boating to kneeboard, tube, and see who could injure themselves first. These days we cruise slowly, watch birds, and admire the beautiful homes along the lake. The strange part is, nobody ever seems to be outside. Maybe once your house gets that nice, you’re too busy working to spend much time there. 

We cruise around stalking egrets, blue herons, and cormorants, pretending each one is a rare discovery instead of a bird we’ve seen a thousand times. Loons and bald eagles are the real celebrities, but neither showed up that night. So we followed this cormorant around like wildlife paparazzi. We may have seen him a hundred times before, but on this particular evening, he was magnificent.

For years, I’ve steered past this concrete mystery at the entrance to Candy Cove without knowing what it was. I finally did something brilliant and asked ChatGPT. Turns out it’s the remains of the old Candy Cove Dam, built in 1942 to protect Prior Lake’s water level because the cove’s porous bottom was apparently leaking the lake underground. Eighty-four years later, I solved the mystery without leaving the boat. Technology has finally justified itself.

There was a time I’d never miss the chance to jump off the boat, float with friends, and enjoy nature’s most convenient restroom. Now I weigh that against hauling myself up the tiny ladder and driving home with a wet swimsuit welded to my crotch. This night, the dry crotch won. Miss Sheri and Sue jumped in and apparently had a blast, while I stayed aboard feeling old, comfortable, and completely justified.

Saturday brought us back to the St. Croix River for another afternoon of sun, drinks, and questionable decisions aboard the Zitzewitz boat. We packed in friends, family, and enough personalities to make every seat feel like its own little reality show. No real agenda beyond cruising, laughing, and proving once again that nearly everything is more fun when somebody else owns the boat.

We joined the Zitzewitzes on the river last Saturday too, but Avery and Abby already had plans and missed it. Karl and Tina were kind enough to invite us back again so the kids could join the fun. That meant another afternoon on the St. Croix, more floating, and absolutely no complaints from us about doing it again.

Best of all, Aaron joined us for the day. It had been years since we’d shared a day of sun and fun with him, and he’s actually the reason we met the Zitzewitz family nearly 20 years ago through Cub Scouts. The boys spent the afternoon reliving old scouting stories, including the weekend we crawled through Eagle Cave among stalagmites, stalactites, and live bats. Apparently childhood trauma becomes comedy once everyone survives it.

It was much windier than the weekend before, so floating became a full-contact sport. We spent most of the time clutching the rope while the current swung us around and shoved us into waves big enough to slap the relaxation right out of us. It felt like tubing behind the boat, except the boat was parked and nobody had signed a waiver. Good times, assuming your definition of fun includes fighting a river for custody of your inflatable.

I told Karl and Tina that Facebook had recently reminded me how many couple photos I took of them over the years, so naturally we needed an updated version. Somehow they’re even cuter now, which is annoying because most of us are just trying to keep our faces from sliding off. Apparently marriage works when you combine love, laughter, and a boat large enough to escape each other occasionally.

Sunday brought us to Target Center for a WNBA showdown between the hometown Minnesota Lynx and Indiana Fever. Minnesota had won nine straight, Indiana five, and both were among the league’s best teams, so we knew we were in for a great matchup.

The whole thing was Krazy Kory’s idea, but he had to back out a few days before the game, so Miss Sheri and I went without him. We ended up in the front row of the upper-deck corner, which I was pretty happy about considering Target Center looked nearly sold out and my official Lynx status is somewhere between “occasional customer” and “who let this guy in?”

 

Of course, one of the biggest draws was getting to watch Caitlin Clark play again. She’s been Miss Sheri’s favorite player since about her sophomore year at Iowa, partly because Caitlin is an Iowa girl and Miss Sheri grew up there playing basketball through high school. This was probably our fourth or fifth time seeing her in person, so at this point I’m surprised Caitlin doesn’t at least wave.

The Lynx were plenty of a draw on their own, entering the game with the WNBA’s best record and rookie Olivia Miles looking like anything but a rookie. She poured in 28 points, including 14 in the second quarter, and ran the offense with the confidence of someone who clearly skipped the part where first-year players are supposed to look nervous. Caitlin may have brought the crowd, but Olivia made sure everyone learned her name.

Sophie Cunningham has been another of our favorite players the past couple years, but she recently made some comments suggesting boys and girls should probably stick to their own teams, and that went over in Minnesota about as smoothly as wearing a Packers jersey to a Vikings tailgate. Lynx fans booed her every time she touched the ball, which felt less like basketball and more like 16,000 people leaving the same angry voicemail. We still like Sophie, but apparently her newest advanced statistic is boos per touch.

Caitlin and her friends played tough, erasing a 14-point fourth-quarter deficit and pulling within two before the Lynx finally slammed the door, 108-100. Clark finished with 19 points and 10 assists, while Olivia Miles scored 28 and Courtney Williams added 27 as Minnesota won its 10th straight. Great game, great crowd, and proof that spending an afternoon with Caitlin is fun even when she barely acknowledges we’re there.

Somewhere Between Boating and Loitering on the St. Croix River

 

Somewhere Between Boating and Loitering on the St. Croix River

Todd Swank's Diary Entry for July 26, 2026

We celebrated my 56th birthday on Sunday night at the Porterhouse in Lakeville. Getting older sucks, but at least it keeps giving me a legitimate excuse to eat steak and gather my favorite people on the planet around one table. I’ll gladly take the extra year when it comes with a night like this.

My actual birthday was Monday, and since we’ve been pretty active lately, I decided I wanted a quieter night. So Luke, Miss Sheri, and I went to play bingo at Mystic Lake Casino. Luke and I got free bingo packs for our birthday month, which sounded generous right up until none of us won squat. You’d think the birthday boy might get one pity victory, but Mystic has apparently decided character-building is cheaper than prize money.

On our family chat, my sister called me “Ernie” on my birthday, a name I hadn’t heard in a long time. It started in elementary school in Mason City when Mom bought me an Ernie football shirt. I cried because I thought it made me look like a baby and refused to wear it anywhere. Eventually I gave in, including at J4 Rollermania, where third-grade Todd was a roller-skating fiend. After that, kids and plenty of adults called me Ernie for years. My brother-in-law recreated the shirt, and it was disturbingly accurate. Thanks for the shirt, Mom, and for teaching me that if I’m going to look like a baby, then I need to own that shit.

Saturday brought us to the St. Croix River for a ride on our good friends Karl and Tina Zitzewitz’s boat. I thought the cloudy morning might keep things cooler, but apparently the clouds were just there to trap the humidity and turn the whole river into a sauna. Luckily, unlike most saunas, this one came with a giant body of water we could jump into whenever we started melting.

It was us, the Browns, and the Zitzewitzes with nothing major planned, which is usually when the best days happen. Just some fun in the sun, or at least the cloudy, humid version of it, along with good food, cold drinks, and even better conversation with people we genuinely enjoy. No agenda, no pressure, no reason to leave early. Just one of those simple days that quietly reminds you how lucky you are.

On the week I turned 56 years old, I was reminded that life gets better when you stop pretending every day needs to be productive. Sometimes the smartest thing you can do is find something strong enough to hold your weight, climb aboard, and float around with people who make you laugh. The river was warm, the drinks were cold, and nobody accomplished anything measurable. Moral of the story: aging may be unavoidable, but acting your age remains completely optional.

This guy was flipping around nearby and I thought it was pretty cool.  I grabbed the camera and caught this impressive video of him doing 9 backflips in a row.  I had Luke edit the video for me because that boy has a knack for it and in the past 24 hours it's had more than a half million views on TikTok. 

 

And that plus $5 will buy me a coffee at McDonalds!

@toddswank Spin me right round baby! #flip #jetski #spin ♬ sonido original - L o n e l i n e s s 1 9 9 3

Rocking Hard & Sweating Harder at the 2026 Yacht Club Music Festival

 

Rocking Hard & Sweating Harder 

at the 2026 Yacht Club Music Festival

Todd Swank's Diary Update for July 19, 2026

Monday night started the week with an adventure alongside some of the Oracle Minneapolis team and our friends at Apps Associates: an Al & Alma’s dinner cruise on Lake Minnetonka. I hadn’t been on one of their boats in probably 25 years, certainly not since the Vikings made them famous with the Love Boat scandal. Our trip was much more respectable, unless something happened after I went home that nobody has had the courage to tell me about.

Thursday night we were supposed to take Sue and Ron Korkowski for a boat ride, but we woke up under a thick blanket of smoke from the Canadian and Minnesota wildfires and briefly had some of the worst air on the planet. Naturally, it cleared up by the time we would’ve launched, but we’d already bailed and redirected to P.F. Chang’s in Maple Grove. Nothing says fearless outdoor adventure like gourmet Chinese in air conditioning.

Friday brought Miss Sheri and me to our second music festival in less than a week: the Minnesota Yacht Club Festival on Harriet Island in St. Paul. We probably wouldn’t have bought tickets had we known temperatures would hit the 90s with a heat index over 100. My concert hair hats usually turn my head into a tiny convection oven in normal temperatures, so this one had my skull baking like a Costco rotisserie chicken.

Despite the fancy name, Minnesota Yacht Club has very little to do with yachts and a whole lot to do with bringing arena-sized rock shows to Harriet Island. Launched in 2024 by C3 Presents, the team behind Lollapalooza, it expanded from two days to three after its first year. By 2026, its third summer, it featured 30 artists on two stages with no overlapping sets and about 35,000 people expected each night along the Mississippi River. Not bad for a club that never asked to see my boat.

We went with our good friends Joel and Jen, whom we hadn’t seen since their wedding in Destin, Florida. They’d attended Yacht Club the past couple of years, and after seeing their Facebook photos, Miss Sheri and I decided they were having entirely too much fun without us. So this year we crashed their party, because friendship is mostly about letting someone else discover the fun and then inviting yourself along.

We planted ourselves in the middle of the park so we could see both stages, although one definitely won the battle for better sound and sightlines. I didn’t recognize most of the bands or songs, so it felt like a full day of waiting for everyone’s one big hit. Then Marcy Playground played “Sex and Candy,” and I finally started grooving. At my age, that’s less a lifestyle than two separate things I’ve been forced to cut back on.

We lasted about five hours before the heat finally beat us and we bailed before the Lumineers. I was genuinely disappointed I didn’t get to yell “Ho! Hey!” with 30,000 sweaty strangers, but that regret disappeared the second we reached the car and the air conditioning hit us. Turns out my favorite headliner was a Kia Telluride set to 68 degrees.

Saturday night I took Miss Sheri downtown Minneapolis to the Orpheum for something wicked. Unfortunately for her, I meant the musical. Neither of us had seen the stage version before, although we’d both seen the movies, so I was ready for a little Glinda vs. Elphaba action. Nothing spices up date night like witches, betrayal, flying monkeys, and a couple thousand people silently judging which witch deserves the better song.

Once the curtain went up, it was easy to see how Wicked has attracted more than 70 million people, earned over $6 billion, and collected 100-plus awards across 16 countries. That isn’t a musical résumé; it’s a hostile takeover of theater. Between the massive sets, costumes, flying monkeys and powerhouse witches, the hype suddenly made perfect sense. Wicked really was wicked.

Quite honestly, I really liked it. Like most musicals, I would’ve preferred a little less singing and a little more dialogue, but the story was excellent. I grew up fascinated by The Wizard of Oz, and Wicked fits beautifully alongside it while giving everyone’s motives a clever new spin. Highly recommended for anyone who, like me, has a 14-year-old girl trapped inside just waiting to be inspired.

@toddswank 20 minutes until I get to see Wicked for the first time! #wicked #theater #emeraldcity ♬ original sound - Todd Swank

Rocking Like the ’80s Still Rule at the 2026 Lakefront Music Fest

 

Rocking Like the ’80s Still Rule at the 2026 Lakefront Music Fest

Todd Swank's Diary Entry for July 12, 2026

Our summer has been packed, and somehow even our nights off turn social. While wandering Costco, we ran into Randy and Cindy Schoen, who lived near my sister about 20 years ago. We’d lost touch, but they’re the kind of people who make it feel like no time has passed. A few minutes catching up in the spice aisle turned into one of those unexpected little reminders that good people never really feel far away.

It was Avery’s turn for a Mayo Clinic checkup. He only has to go every two or three years, but it’s always great seeing Dr. Johnson, the boys’ cardiologist and someone we’ve come to know well over the past decade. Avery’s checkup went well and he doesn't need to come back soon.  That’s exactly the kind of visit we like: catch up with a good man and say, “See you in a few years.”

Our rocking week of the ’80s started Wednesday night at Rhythm on the Rails in downtown Shakopee, a free summer concert series with live music, food, drinks, games, and a street full of people enjoying the night. Def Leggend brought the Def Leppard hits, and for a few hours Lewis Street felt less like Shakopee and more like 1987 with better beer options.

Tom and Kellie Wolf are usually our Rhythm on the Rails partners. We share the same taste in classic rock and the same desire to sit off to the side so the speakers don’t finish off whatever hearing we have left. We always have a great time together, even if getting Tom to actually look at the camera remains one of Shakopee’s tougher summer challenges.

Thursday night, the Browns and Zitzewitzes joined us for a three-hour tour on the boat. Unlike Gilligan, we made it back before three hours turned into a syndicated television series. I also prefer being off the lake before sunset because I’m not entirely sure the boat lights still work. I could check them, of course, but that sounds suspiciously like effort.

The highlight of the week was Rock Night at Prior Lake’s Lakefront Music Fest. The weekend brings in some huge names, but we stick to Friday because country music has never really been our thing. We used to fight our way to the front of the stage, but now they charge extra for the pit and our ears have filed enough formal complaints for one lifetime.

We love running into old friends at Lakefront Music Fest, including Jimi Gilbertson and his sister Trish. Jimi is a big shot with the Prior Lake Rotary Club and gets to guard the VIP section, where $320 buys you perks like shade. That sounded excessive until 95-degree heat and direct sunlight spent several hours turning my forehead into a solar panel. One of these years, I may finally invest.

I think the last time we saw Lisa Maldonado was at this same concert last year. She’s one of those genuinely sweet people who always asks about the boys and makes you feel like no time has passed. She also gave Miss Sheri about five hugs while I got one, which felt a little uneven, but apparently Sheri had the premium friendship package.

Ted and Marcia found us in the crowd and settled in for the show. We occasionally wandered closer to the stage, partly for the music and partly because standing in a packed crowd was somehow our best available shade. Whenever we returned to our chairs, we enjoyed catching up with them, which made the night even better.

Jefferson Starship opened the night by taking us through their own musical family tree, from Jefferson Airplane to Jefferson Starship to Starship. They closed with “We Built This City,” but “White Rabbit” was the song I was waiting for. More than 50 years later, it’s still wonderfully psychedelic and remains one of my all-time favorites.

George Thorogood was next, and “I Drink Alone” has long been one of my favorite karaoke songs because his raspy growl is about as close as my voice gets to a natural fit. I can’t really sing, but I can fake irritated confidence pretty well. It’s the rare song where throat damage actually improves the performance.

Billy Idol closed the night, and for a while it felt like high school had come roaring back, only now everyone had reading glasses and sore knees. He tore through hit after hit, and I kept thinking about how perfectly he played himself in The Wedding Singer, still one of my favorite movie cameos. We left early and missed “Rebel Yell” and “White Wedding,” but beating that massive crowd on the mile walk back to the car and getting home to my bed was absolutely worth sacrificing a little rock-and-roll history.

@toddswank The only thing I look forward to about fall. 😂🦟 #Mosquitoes #Comedy #Relatable ♬ SILENT PATROL - AYUMI Hollow