Late last night, as I took a few minutes out of my busy schedule of binge-reading about airplane crashes to start winding things down for the evening, I received word that the Vikings traded Stefon Diggs. Were I not reasonably confident that COVID-19 will place the coming NFL season into extreme jeopardy, I would be apoplectic in my despair. As it stands, I am only extremely put out. Diggs is the dang best, and I will miss him dearly.
As with most other dubious news pertaining to the Vikings to come out in the last few years, yesterday also brought ample evidence that things could always be worse in the form of the DeAndre Hopkins trade. At least the Vikings got a decent haul of draft picks for the guy, and in an offseason where the team needs to retool on the fly, anyway. This only takes a bit of the sting off, though, especially since it turns depth at receiver from a luxury into a pressing need. While it would be foolish to pretend that the Vikings were true contenders going into the coming season, and it would have been foolish to do so even with Diggs on the team, the Vikings offense now consists of the Spirit of Un-Clutch Himself, Kirk Cousins, throwing to approximately 1.76 good wide receivers from behind an offensive line that disintegrates like wet toilet paper when faced with a quality pass rush, and may as well not exist.
Even though I am not happy with this news, I can accept that this is probably best for all parties involved. Diggs was clearly unhappy, and again, at least the Vikings got a worthy bevy of picks in the trade. Like COVID-19, there’s nothing for me to do except chill out at home and wash my hands.
Rob Writes About Whatever 