Todd Swank

August 30, 2026

Dodging Humanity at the 2026 Minnesota State Fair

Todd Swank's Diary Entry for August 30, 2026

Friday night was fantasy football draft night at Steve “Cuds” Cuddihy’s house, and nobody commits to commissioner duties quite like Cuds. Every year he adds something new, and this time he designed new custom team logos and personalized our seats. Mine even featured a reminder of my glorious 2024 championship. Last year did not go nearly as well, but I had a feeling 2026 was going to restore the Crippled Monkeys to their rightful place on top.

Our auction-style draft takes more than three hours, which gives a room full of highly competitive adults plenty of time to overthink every bid and mess with each other’s heads. Half the strategy is knowing player values; the other half is convincing everyone else they’re making terrible decisions. Political correctness tends to fade as the night goes on, and the steadily flowing beverages don’t exactly improve anyone’s judgment.

I’ve been playing in this league for 20 years now, along with several of these guys who were there from the beginning. I’m glad Luke joined us a few years ago, even if he seems to get extra joy from outbidding his dad. This year I skipped most of the big-name spending and built a deeper roster than I usually do. Whether that was brilliant strategy or three hours of bad decisions remains to be seen. Either way, let’s go! Are you ready for some football?

Saturday we joined 198,841 of our closest friends at the Minnesota State Fair, where the basic plan is to eat things we’d never consider putting in our bodies anywhere else, get bumped into by strangers every 30 seconds, and somehow keep discovering sights that make you stop and say, “What the hell is that?” We love the whole ridiculous spectacle. The DNR fish pond is always one of my favorite stops. Apparently, I’m much more comfortable in a crowd when most of it is underwater.

Usually we snooker the boys into joining us or rope some friends into the adventure, but this year it was just my best girl and me. Luckily, Miss Sheri and I have very similar State Fair priorities: critters doing tricks, fried food on sticks, people-watching, wandering into buildings we’ve ignored for 20 years, and occasionally paying $14 for something we’d never buy anywhere else. Turns out we make a pretty good two-person fair team.

We got there early and made the Stunt Dog competition one of our first stops. Between dock diving and funky tricks, these dogs were ridiculous athletes. A few of them could launch themselves more than 23 feet just because somebody threw a stuffed toy. I’ve spent 56 years being offered money, praise, food and basic human approval, and I’m not sure any of it has ever motivated me to move that aggressively.

Another must-stop for us is the butter carving chamber in the Dairy Building, where Princess Kay candidates take turns having their heads sculpted while the poor artist spends hours trapped in a refrigerator. Miss Sheri and I debated what happens to all the leftover butter. I guessed it goes to the corn-on-the-cob booth, but they probably scrape all the facial shavings into a giant bucket labeled “Premium Fair Butter” and keep it around for emergency lubrication when somebody gets jammed halfway down the Giant Slide.

This year I read that Ye Old Mill is the oldest ride at the Minnesota State Fair, which immediately raised an uncomfortable question: how have we been coming here for more than 30 years and never even noticed it? Apparently we’ve spent decades walking right past a piece of Minnesota history because somebody nearby was selling something deep-fried. That feels about right.

Turns out we hadn’t been missing much. Ye Old Mill is basically It’s a Small World without the visuals. Most of the ride is so dark you can’t see your hand in front of your face, interrupted only by the occasional character that looks hand-drawn by a kindergarten class and mounted with Popsicle sticks. The darkness was actually pretty creepy, especially when the boat seemed ready to get stuck a couple times. For $5 each, I’m glad we finally did it. I’m also pretty sure we’re good for the next 30 years.

This year the Science Museum of Minnesota brought Ultimate Dinosaurs to the Fair, featuring 15 full skeleton casts, real fossils and some bizarre prehistoric creatures from the Southern Hemisphere. It was cool, although I’ve seen plenty of dinosaur exhibits by now. What makes them fun again is taking pictures with my phone and using AI to bring them to life, usually resulting in a brief Jurassic Park incident where nearby children become part of the food chain. Technology really has improved museums.

Our favorite booth of the day was visiting our euchre buddy Eric Pratt, who’s running for US Congress. I was excited to see him and immediately asked for a picture. Eric agreed, but only if we put “the pretty one in the middle.” For one glorious second, I thought he meant me. Then Miss Sheri stepped into position and reality came crashing back. Politics can be brutal.

Big week for the Minnesota Timberwolves!

@toddswank 🚨🐺 JONATHAN KUMINGA IS A MINNESOTA TIMBERWOLF!! Two years. $13 million. And Shams says he’s STARTING. AWOOOOOO! 🐺🔥 #Timberwolves #JonathanKuminga #NBA ♬ original sound - kivxr

August 23, 2026

The Twins, Vikings, & the Birthday Girl Who Outshined Them Both

Todd Swank's Diary Entry for August 23, 2026

Miss Sheri’s birthday week began Monday at Target Field with the boys and Abby, watching the Twins take on the Atlanta Braves. Abby is a Georgia girl and Braves fan, so for once we found ourselves on opposite sides of a fierce family rivalry. “Fierce” may be overstating it. None of us cares enough about baseball to let nine innings damage a perfectly good relationship. Our cheering was mostly polite acknowledgment that something had happened.

After a 45-minute rain delay, Luke Keaschall came out in his first leadoff at-bat of the year and promptly doubled down the line to start a four-run Twins first inning. That turned out to be all the scoring they needed. We left after six innings, but the Twins held on for a 4–2 win, even if we were not there to see the ending. Still, a fun night with the birthday girl.

Miss Sheri’s actual birthday arrived Wednesday, so we met Luke, Avery and Grandma Linda at Olive Garden for a proper family celebration. Somehow, for the first time in recorded Swank history, we forgot to take a family picture until we were walking out the door. Grandma Linda was in the potty and missed it. Still, she was there for the food, the birthday wishes and, presumably, the important stuff.

Fantasy football season is nearly here, so I met Steve “Cuds” Cuddihy for lunch and finally turned over the trophy I won two years ago. Steve became last year’s champion—for the first time in our league’s 20-year history—so I suppose he earned at least a few months with it. But next week’s draft starts the annual campaign to bring it home where it belongs.

Friday night, we had dinner with our good friends Doc and Portia Vogt before taking their boat out on Spring Lake. It was a beautiful night, made even better by the kind of spirited debates we always seem to have—covering everything from the important issues of the day to the things that make us laugh. The lake stayed calm. Our conversation did not.

As we cruised along, Mike spotted what looked like a seagull struggling to pull a huge fish from the lake. After watching awhile, he realized the bird was tangled in fishing line, with a large lure hooked in several places. So he jumped in, swam over and spent 10 minutes carefully freeing it. The seagull flew away looking ready for a full recovery. I was genuinely impressed. Every boat needs a guy who notices trouble—and is willing to jump in to fix it.

Saturday brought the Vikings’ first—and only—preseason home game against the Baltimore Ravens. It was such a beautiful day that U.S. Bank Stadium had the big doors open, briefly making it feel like Minnesota had built the world’s most expensive patio. Preseason football still mostly sucks, but it serves its purpose: the real games are only a couple weeks away, and for now every Vikings fan gets to believe this might finally be our year.

I got to spend the afternoon with my best girl, who debuted her new Andrew Van Ginkel jersey in style. None of the starters played, and most of the guys on the field may be packing their lockers in a couple weeks, but that did not stop us from delivering a full-throated SKOL chant and screaming our support. Vikings football is back, even when the Vikings are technically still auditioning.

Kyler Murray had been named the Week 1 starter a couple weeks earlier, so he spent this one in street clothes. That left us eager to see J.J. McCarthy, Carson Wentz and Max Brosmer. Quarterback was a genuine problem for the Vikings last year, and this might have been J.J.’s only chance to play at home all season. No pressure, kid—just an entire stadium trying to decide whether to believe again.

Unfortunately, it was not the J.J. McCarthy comeback performance we were hoping for. He uncorked a beautiful deep pass to Tai Felton, then missed Myles Price wide open in the end zone for what should have been an easy touchdown. He finished 5-for-10 before getting banged up again after just 18 snaps. We have seen this movie before, and Vikings fans are starting to wonder whether the sequel gets any better.

The 13–3 loss was ugly on offense, but the defense showed enough promise to keep the preseason optimism machine humming. The jury is still out on whether these Vikings will be any good this year, which is exactly where Vikings fans like it: equal parts hopeful, skeptical and irrationally ready to SKOL at full volume. The regular season cannot get here soon enough.

Sunday brought the final formal celebration of Miss Sheri’s birthday week: meeting the boys at the Launch Pad to whack some golf balls. Technically, it is just a driving range, which makes it perfectly suited to my golf retirement. My swing has not improved one bit since I quit the game, but I had fun, nobody had to hunt for a ball in the woods, and we got another afternoon together. That is a birthday party I can handle.

@toddswank JJ McCarthy had Myles Price WIDE OPEN for six… but apparently he tried to throw the football through him. 😂🔥 So close to a Vikings TD! #JJMcCarthy #MinnesotaVikings #SKOL ♬ Mind Blank - OTE

@toddswank 👀 COMING SOON… THE ALL-NEW MYSTIC LAKE 🎰✨ Opening night is going to look a little different. #MysticLake #MysticNext #Minnesota #comingsoon ♬ night vibe - skyfall beats

@toddswank We get albino squirrels in our yard quite frequently and I don’t know why. #nature #albinosquirrel #squirrels ♬ original sound - Todd Swank

August 16, 2026

Holding On Loosely to What’s Left of Summer

Todd Swank's Diary Entry for August 16, 2026

Longtime readers may remember our strange history with albino squirrels. I’d never seen one until Luke and Avery were born, then they started appearing in our yard. We moved to another city and somehow they found us there too. For more than 25 years they’ve had a habit of showing up during stressful times, so we came to think of them as our little furry guardian angels. We hadn’t seen one at our house in years, until Miss Sheri spotted this guy on our back porch. I don’t pretend to know what the universe is trying to tell us, but I’m very happy it remembered our address.

I’d never been to Ohio before, but crossed that one off the list this week when work sent me to Columbus for a couple nights. Urban Meyer’s Pint House was right down the street from my hotel, so naturally I stopped in for supper. Meyer won a national championship at Ohio State, which I’m pretty sure means Columbus city code requires his name to appear on at least one building every three blocks. I had dinner there and briefly considered myself part of Buckeye Nation. Then I came to my senses.

We had dinner with several of the fine folks from Worthington Steel at Z Cucina, where I learned their CIO once pitched for the Cleveland Indians. Naturally, I geeked out and peppered him with questions. He appeared in 35 games and talked about striking out several future Hall of Famers, memories he still ranks among the best from that chapter of his life. I loved hearing the stories. Very few people ever get to stand on a Major League mound, let alone make legends swing and miss.

I flew home Friday, put in a regular workday, then Miss Sheri and I headed north to spend the weekend with our good friends Ron and Sue Korkowski. They’re always incredibly generous hosts, which means great food, plenty of laughs, and board games taken far too seriously. Luke came up just for Friday night and spent much of it giving me grief because I apparently lack the advanced motor skills required to roll two dice and keep both of them on the table.

It was rainy and muggy most of the weekend, so we stayed inside until deciding Riley the dog and Karl the cat needed some fresh air. I’d never walked a cat before and quickly learned it’s less “walking” and more “negotiating with a small furry sovereign nation.” Grace was primarily responsible for convincing Karl that the group had, in fact, chosen a direction. He had his own opinions about pace and participation, but stuck with us most of the way. Good kitty. Strong opinions.

Saturday night we headed to The Ledge Amphitheater in Waite Park for an outdoor concert, with the bonus of riding a school bus there. Sue decided we belonged in the back with the troublemakers and announced we were going to cause problems. The bus driver, completely serious, said, “Please don’t.” I loved that he seemed genuinely concerned, like Sue had a history of launching rocks out school bus windows.

The Ledge turned out to be one of the coolest concert venues I’ve seen. It’s built into an old granite quarry, with huge rock formations, water-filled pits and fountains surrounding the amphitheater. The whole place feels carved out of the landscape instead of dropped on top of it. It was just a really cool place to sit outside on a summer night and listen to some good music.

We kept one eye on the stage and the other on the radar because storms had been threatening us all day, and we have a long, distinguished history of getting absolutely drenched at outdoor concerts. The sky spit at us a little early, but then the clouds moved on and left behind one of those perfect summer evenings that makes you forget how close you came to sitting in wet underwear for three hours.

I’ve listened to Chris Hawkey on KFAN for years and have seen his band a few times. I don’t know a lot of his songs, but I’ve always liked the positive message behind them. His new song “Hard Things” is basically about getting off your ass, pushing through the rough stuff and doing something with your life, which is a message I can get behind. He and the band did a great job warming up the crowd for 38 Special.

38 Special was the perfect soundtrack to close out the weekend. Songs like “Caught Up in You” and “Hold On Loosely” took me straight back to roller rinks, high school dances and a version of myself with more hair and fewer orthopedic concerns. Funny how a song can collapse 40 years in about three minutes. We sang, laughed, remembered a few things we’d forgotten, and squeezed another great night out of a summer that’s disappearing way too fast.

August 9, 2026

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.