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McNiff’s Musings: A Night on the Town with a Former Viking

By Tim McNiff

For more than a decade I was able to slip the bonds of ordinary fandom and become a working journalist who covered and traveled with the Minnesota Vikings on a daily basis. This gave me opportunities to go behind the scenes and forge relationships that I previously had only dreamed of.

One of the highlights of that experience was getting to travel with the team. Many times, you actually traveledwith the team, although the media was quartered in the rear of the aircraft, and direct conversations with players in that context were almost nonexistent.

My first full year at KARE-11 TV was 1994, and that year KARE outbid the other local stations to become “the official broadcast partner of the Minnesota Vikings.” Beyond local bragging rights, this meant we would also produce the coach’s show and broadcast five pre-season games.

For the ‘Dennis Green Show’ my position was to create and feature stories. For the Vikings game broadcasts, I was the sideline reporter, Randy Shaver did play-by-play, and former Vikings Offensive Lineman Dave Huffman was retained to provide color commentary, or analysis.

I had known of Dave Huffman as a player, but since his retirement Dave had become a fixture on the Twin Cities most popular AM radio show, where he showed quick wit and a great sense of humor. As I got to know Dave by working and traveling with him I quickly learned that Huffman was not only a very big man, but in many waysDave Huffman was larger than life.

An All-American at Notre Dame, Huffman played on the same team with Joe Montana and Dan “Rudy” Reuttiger, the subject of the enduring sports biopic “Rudy.” Blessed with a sharp mind and a quick tongue, Huffman was a natural as an analyst because he would tell it exactly as it was, and again, he was exceptionally funny.

My first experience “on the town” with Huffman came when we were in Providence, Rhode Island, where the Vikings were going to play the pre-Tom Brady era New England Patriots in a Sunday night pre-season contest.

This was the first pre-season game that KARE was going to broadcast and as such we flew with the team on Saturday afternoon, stayed overnight at the team hotel, and upon arriving we were given private access to Denny Green and select players almost immediately for game prep.

After our game prep was finished, Dave, myself, and the KARE crew went out to dinner, and the “Dave Huffman Show” began. Huffman held everyone’s attention as he regaled us with stories throughout dinner about his playing days at Notre Dame, in the defunct United States Football League, and of course, with the Minnesota Vikings.

After dinner, people went their separate ways, the smarter ones going back to the hotel, but I was just 31 at the time, and thrilled to be asked to tag along with Huffman as he hit the town, and let’s just say it didn’t take long for the Dave Huffman show to reach another level.

As we exited the restaurant and began to walk through a hallway to the adjoining bar, Huffman notices a terrarium, with a live plant inside it, casually reaches out and grabs it, never breaking his stride, or his train of thought, anddumps its contents into a larger plant, confidently stridinginto the bar with an empty, dirty, terrarium in his hand.

Upon reaching the bar, Huffman puts the terrarium down in front of a not pleased bartender and casually orders a drink, requesting that it be of a magnitude suitable for the terrarium. The bartender pauses, figuring out in his mind what’s just happened to hotel property, and it’s at this point where I am certain that we’re going to get tossed out, But,Huffman begins to regale the bartender, who shrugs his shoulders, and quickly washes the terrarium, proceedingto mix the biggest cocktail I have ever seen. (And “No, I can’t remember what he ordered, sorry.)

The night went on from there, with Huffman going from bar to bar, terrarium in-hand, repeating the process at every stop. I was perfectly fine being a member of his entourage, and this routine turned out to be one that would be repeated on several trips, always producing a thoroughly memorable experience.  

One night with Dave Huffman that was exceptionallymemorable was a Saturday night in Tampa, where the Vikes would play the Bucs in a regular season game the next day. I was there to cover the team and Huffman came down just because it was an excuse to go to Tampa. I went out to dinner with a large group of people, including fellow journalists, flight attendants, and members of the Minnesota Vikings support staff, with Dave Huffman very much in charge. 

Also along that night were two guys who were about my same age and size, which at the time meant they were both about 30, under 6-feet tall and under 200lbs. 

I point this out because these two guys, who were friends of a guy in the Vikings support staff, were all over Huffmantrading barbs with him all night. They kept ribbing him that he had been over-rated as a player, and how he had been lucky to have an NFL career at all. This verbal sparringwent on throughout the night, and of course Dave was having none of it. 

Now, this was the first time that I had experienced this act, but apparently it had been going on for some time. These guys were young and single, had access to great road tickets through their friend who worked for the Vikings, and went to many road games, where they would heckle Huffman about his supposed lack of ability, going so far as to say that not only had he been a sub-par NFL player, but that he could not block them if he had to.

Now this, as they were about to find out, was going too far. We all like to imagine that we could play a sport at the professional level, but the truth is, very few of us are actually equipped or trained to do so. But, as the night got later and more alcohol was consumed, the two kept telling Huffman they could beat him on a pass rush, to which Huffman kept warning them not to try, because if they did,he would show them no mercy.

Well, it was exceptionally late, and I believe up to that point, a good time had been had by all. But just when it appeared the night was about to breakup without incident, these guys decide they really did want to test Huffman — one at a time right there in the middle of the street. 

In the middle of a cobblestone street with uneven pavement. I add that for reasons that will become important in a moment.

Now before I go on, let me just say there were at least a dozen people there, and everybody, especially Huffman, was trying to talk these two out of going through with their challenge, but, to no avail. Fueled by a copious amount of “bottled bravery”, the two eggedon Huffman and began to take position to challenge his football skills. May I just add, much to the displeasure of Dave Huffman, who is repeatedly warning them not to do it.

So, the first guy gets down in a 3-point stance while Huffman, easily 6-5 some 300lbs, crouches into a 2-point, or pass protection stance, across from him. The Viking staff member had been selected to bark out signals, and on “hut” the would-be pass rusher was off. 

His strategy was to try a “spin move”, where he would start in one direction, then pivot and spin to the opposite direction on his way to the imaginary quarterback.

It didn’t work.

Not even close.

The enraged Huffman easily moved with the smaller man, getting his hands on his inside shoulder and driving him,down quickly and painfully into the uneven, cobblestonestreet which he followed at full speed, driving his shoulder, and all his bodyweight into the would-be passrusher as he finished by steam-rolling over the pass rusher’s crumpled body, just as viscously as he promised he would.

Watching this display, myself and the whole crowd physically cringed and winced, and there was a group cry of “Ohhhhhhhhhh!!!!!” As Huffman exacted his vengeance, leaving the first guy writhing in pain on the uneven, cobblestone pavement.

As some people moved to see if heckler #1 was still alive, Huffman began to pace back and forth. Now, he wasn’tjust mad, he was upset. He repeated to his fallen victim that he had warned him not to go through with it, but you could tell that he was upset at being pushed to do so.

While I was still processing all of this, and crude first aid was being given to the individual who had just managed to accomplish what I was certain was the dumbest thing I have ever seen in 30-plus years on earth, came a signal that I was about to witness something that was going to be monumentally much more stupid.

Heckler #2 still wanted to have his opportunity with Huffman.

“Yes,” I AM serious.  

With his buddy clinging for life in the middle of the street, heckler #2 is still verbally jousting with the now upset former Vikings offensive lineman. At this point, the whole group, myself included, is begging the guy not to do it.Huffman, seeing the damage he had already done is trying to walk away, but the guy won’t let him, and much to my disbelief, here we go again.

Again, the two combatants line up across an imaginary line of scrimmage. Again, the Viking staffer calls the signals, and again, as the imaginary ball is snapped, the two go into action.

This time, heckler #2 breaks off the ball to one side on his first step, then attempts break back in the opposite direction, employing a “swim move”, where you drive your inside arm up, in a rotating fashion, intended to move the offensive lineman’s’ hands off of you.

Again, it did not work.

This time Huffman, feet driving, gets his hands on the guy’s torso, contracts his arms, then explodes on extension, sending the amateur pass-rusher literally flying through the air, feet still pedaling for a moment, his body defying gravity for what seemed like at least 8-10 feet. But, as we all know, what goes up must come down, and heckler #2 briefly landed with a sickening thud, before bouncing and skidding across the uneven, cobblestonestreet, before eventually rolling to a stop.

The best thing I can say about both “would be” pass rushers is that they managed to survive.

The next day at Raymond James Stadium I asked the Viking employee about his pals, and to no surprise I was told that neither one of them could manage to get out of bed, causing them to miss the game entirely, though I heard both were able to limp to their plane back to the Twin Cities the next day.

I wish that is where my story about Dave Huffman ends but unfortunately, it does not. We lost Dave Huffman in November of 1998.  Dave had invited a co-worker of mine from the KARE-11 sports department to experience a Notre Dame football game in South Bend, Indiana.

As a proud Irishman and lifelong Notre Dame fan, I was so envious of the opportunity and wished I had been invited too. My co-worker flew into Chicago on Friday, he and Huffman had dinner, went out on the town, then attempted to drive to South Bend that same night. Needless to say, they never made it. Dave Huffman was killed in the ensuing car accident and my co-worker was lucky to survive. 

Dave Huffman was truly larger than life but, as we are constantly reminded, there are just some things in this life that you just can’t do, and I’m just thankful that he didn’t take anyone else with him.

Those two guys learned a painful lesson that night in Tampa, Dave Huffman paid a much higher price, leaving behind a wife and two children, and a void that was simplylarger than life.

Tim McNiff

Emmy Award winning, multi-platform journalist and strategic communication consultant. Minnesota native, long-suffering fan of all local sports teams.

Tags: dave huffman Dennis Green minnesota vikings MN Vikings news tim mcniff Vikings

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  • This reminds me of an anecdote I read in the original 1982 edition of "The End of Autumn: Reflections on My Life in Football" by Mike Oriard, a Notre Dame walk-on, back-up offensive lineman for the Kansas City Chiefs from 1970-73, and later a Distinguished Professor of American Literature and associate dean of the College of Liberal Arts at Oregon State University. Oriard briefly continued his pro career by joining the Canadian Football League, where he was installed as the starting offensive tackle opposite a CFL all-star defensive end in his very first game. Oriard recounts the tricks of the trade that he had learned in the NFL that allowed him to easily control and redirect his opponent, who was left baffled by what had just happened to him. If memory serves, Oriard retired after that single game, taking some satisfaction in his skills, at least, from the end of his career. If a CFL all-star could be so easily handled by a journeyman-type NFL back-up with one start to his credit, it really is rather astonishing that those two idiot fans couldn't realize just how wide was the chasm between their athleticism and training and that of even a middling NFL veteran like Huffman.

    A new edition of the book was released by the University of Illinois Press in 2009.

    https://www.press.uillinois.edu/books/catalog/35def7rm9780252076695.html