On Vikings Writing, Sports Journalism, and Basic Humanity Within a Chaotic 2026

Set aside Vikings writing for a few moments. If that’s what you’re looking for, then consider some recent pieces: Exhibit A, Exhibit B, Exhibit C, and Exhibit D. Keep reading here for a meandering piece that capitalizes on a topic that has been moving through the sports journalism world.

Recently, the subject — sports journalism — has come into fresh focus as a result of the NFL playoffs (the tournament excludes the Vikings after the 9-8 finish). Jaguars head coach Liam Coen had just lost a playoff tilt, leading to a quick dialogue between the skipper and journalist Lynn Jones.

Check it out:

An old-school understanding of journalism would frown upon the approach taken here.

Consider, for instance, what Brooke Pryor (like Schefter, an employee of ESPN) had to say: “look, it’s a kind sentiment, but it’s not the job of a reporter to console a coach in a postgame press conference. Pressers are to ask questions to gain a better understanding of what happened or figure out what’s next — and do it in a limited amount of time.”

Remove emotion, keep things strictly professional, and seek objective insight. That’s the focus for a presser, one that has limited airtime. Okay, that’s a perspective that does have merit.

Digging into the topic a touch more is David Aldridge (article), a veteran sports reporter who works for The Athletic. Aldridge, quite evidently, takes his profession seriously. As he should; it is, after all, his livelihood.

He begins by setting the stage with some reflections on the back and forth: “To be clear: This latest smackdown of the press was, mostly, an own goal — a defensive overreaction by many in my industry to, let’s say, an unusual postgame exchange between Lynn Jones, the longtime associate editor of the Jacksonville Free Press, in its 40th year of serving the Black community of Jacksonville, and Jaguars coach Liam Coen.”

Further from Aldridge: “Jones has covered the Jaguars for years and makes no pretense that she’s a supporter of the team because it’s part of the community she and her paper serve, and the presence of an NFL team is good for her community. In this, Jones and her paper have every right to be at a news conference and ask questions, and certainly as much right as the Florida Times-Union, the big paper in town, or The Associated Press or ESPN or The Athletic for that matter.”

Not too long afterwards, there’s some reflecting on why sports journalism matters — words that I support.

The Aldridge reflection: “[Sports journalists] find out things that teams don’t want us to know, because we have access to players, coaches and management on a daily basis, and we sometimes find out things that might be important. But team-owned media has just as much access, while not being at all interested in reporting things about their teams that will make ownership unhappy. And more and more of them are being credentialed, for daily and game access to the teams that write their paychecks, and writing or broadcasting team-friendly content.”

Finally, note how Aldridge delineates between fans and sports journalists, doing so after betraying the pitfalls of a writer who leans on the associative “we” to describe the team and the writer: “[Journalists] root for stories, not teams or people. Is it easier if you cover a winning team? Sure. Everyone’s in a good mood and stays at their locker for as long as you need. But a team that truly stinks is fascinating in a far different, but no less potent, way. Who’s toughing it out, and who’s jumping ship? Those stories are good, too.”

Underneath the words from Aldridge is an interest in the humanity of the players. Isn’t that what allows a player to keep “toughing it out?”

Academic Work, A Lifetime Ago

A lifetime ago, I was pursuing an academic path. Nary a thought about journalism, blogging, nor sports writing crossed my mind.

Journeying into university can be an odd experience when one’s parents didn’t go. My older brother broke new ground by going a few years ahead of me, but there’s nevertheless some uncertainty that comes with venturing onto campus. Prior to going, my understanding of university life was largely informed by Boy Meets World, Fresh Prince of Bel-Air, and The Simpsons (all good teachers for an ignorant child of the ’90s).

Like many, the early days offered up some modest grades. What would have been sizzling work in high school was humdrum within a university setting.

But then some reasonably strong grades followed. Slowly but surely, the GPA improved and some doors opened. Before finishing off my undergrad, I had a chance to pursue grad studies. What began with an MA then became a desire to pursue a PhD. So, that’s what I did.

Among academics, there’s often a feeling that the writing coming out of universities carries unique authority. Spots like Wikipedia, blogs, the work of public intellectuals, and other forms of writing aren’t subjected to the same rigor that peer review purports to offer. Accordingly, the gold standard for professors is peer-reviewed publications that can withstand scrutiny from other experts within the field.

In short, there’s academic writing and then everything else.

That genre of writing does have merit, but it’s merely one form of writing. In time, I learned that it wasn’t something that I wanted to devote my working life toward.

The pivot was toward sports writing.

Vikings Writing (Ideally of the Paid Variety)

Like almost everyone at these sites, I began as a result of cheering for the Vikings. Rabid passion best described my interest back in 2020 even if that no longer applies.

Writing on a daily basis was a natural outlet for someone who spent more than a decade learning how to read and write (I have a few English literature degrees, with a bulk of my focus being on avant-garde, experimental modernist poetry). The Vikings were already a daily focus, so spilling digital ink on the topic was a small hop rather than a giant leap.

What’s grad school if not submitting writing and then being told that it’s stupid? A similar phenomenon often occurs within the sports writing world: submit a piece and then let the negative assessment(s) come through.

The early days of writing about the Vikings were modest, to say the least. Writing something is one thing; getting others to read is quite another. How about social media — the spot where the Lynn Jones comments have taken off — to create a spark to light the fire of vast readership?

Social media was (and remains) a scourge on humanity, promising pleasure before revealing itself to be a poison that unites us within disunity. My participation in that facet of the sports writing world is substandard, halfhearted, and mostly unwelcome.

Getting noticed without competence on social media is difficult, as I soon learned firsthand. Joe Johnson of Vikings Territory and PurplePTSD not only noticed me but gave me a real chance when very few would.

Joe was passionate about uplifting aspiring sports writers. He paid us, partnered with us, and promoted us. He was, in short, someone who was unique insofar as he was unusually generous with both his money and praise.

Prior to passing away, Joe and I discussed an increased workload for his websites (he purchased VT and started P/PTSD) as I transitioned out of academia. The pandemic was still keeping many of us at home — especially in Canada where the restrictions were more rigorous than in many parts of the States — so I was happy to have an online pursuit to help pay the bills.

Since the summer of 2021, I have devoted my work to Vikings writing, doing the overwhelming majority on VT and P/PTSD. The new ownership (Joe’s family, a crew that has continued pursuing his ambition) brought me aboard within a full-time capacity. Slowly but surely, I have been looking to evolve and improve within my coverage of the Vikings, largely due to no longer cheering for the Vikings.

Humanity Above All

Over time, the focus shifted within my work.

What began as writing about a team I cheered for morphed into writing about a team that I follow closely for professional purposes. I still am a sports fan — Detroit Red Wings! — but that no longer applies to the NFL even if I do maintain some passion for the sport of football.

Cheering for the Vikings no longer applies. Wins and losses no longer matter or have any impact on my emotions. All that’s of interest is having something to write about for the sites where I do my work.

In other words, the passion has shifted to a professional interest. What was once passion for seeing the team succeed has become passion for becoming a better writer.

I feed my kids with the work I do for Vikings Territory and PurplePTSD. That’s a powerful motive, folks (my offspring have grown accustomed to the benefits of food and shelter; I can hardly blame them since I desire those same things).

I assume that I’m not alone as someone who has moved out of cheering for the Vikings to one who now just wants to write about the Vikings.

Presumably, many of the top Vikings writers pursued their profession due to cheering for the team while growing up. Not all beat writers working in Minnesota grew up in Minnesota, but some did. The successful ones have either been able to fully extinguish any Vikings fandom or fully compartmentalize it for professional purposes. Couldn’t the same process occur for someone who works for VT and P/PTSD?

Likewise, I have moved on from rooting for the Vikings in favor of taking a more objective approach. Or, at least, that’s the goal.

If the ideal is to arrive at “the whole, unvarnished truth” — to borrow a phrase from the excellent piece from David Aldridge mentioned above — then sign me up. A laudable goal, to be sure, and one that’s worth pursuing even if it’s stubbornly elusive. Accurate, authoritative writing is the goal.

The false dichotomy that sometimes makes an idol of academic writing — peer-reviewed work is the lone source of reliable information — can afflict sports journalism, as well — only the work of the credentialed reporters matters. Again, the goal: offering writing that accurately and authoritatively relays the news surrounding a team.

To that end, I would like to think that what gets offered is a sort of middle ground. GM Kwesi Adofo-Mensah often pursues a binary-defying approach — competitive rebuild, anyone? — so maybe the same can occur from within the writing that surrounds the team.

Reasonably recent work has featured direct interviews with Vikings players such as Blake Brandel, Ryan Wright, Andrew DePaola, and Josh Oliver. So, too, has there been a chance to jump into pressers with head coach Kevin O’Connell, defensive coordinator Brian Flores, and general manager Kwesi Adofo-Mensah. Bridging the divide between the team and the work that comes out here is part of the process of getting more securely into that middle ground.

To my eye, Lynn Jones didn’t do anything egregious or unprofessional. A traditional response within a post-game press conference? Not really, but a rare ray of sunshine within what has already been a difficult 2026.

At the end of the day, the coaches and players who get covered are humans. So are the journalists. A brief moment of humanity isn’t something to run from but, rather, to embrace. The humans underneath the shoulder pads and behind the microphone will always be infinitely more fascinating than any sport.