Inside U.S. Bank Stadium—the massive glass warship in downtown Minneapolis—the rafters soar and tens of thousands of bodies mill around on gameday. It’s hard not to feel small. Anonymous. Once you take your seats and the Minnesota Vikings are ready to charge out of the locker room, something shifts. A massive drum beats, and everyone claps their hands and cries out, “Skol!” As the drum beats faster, so does your heart. And the feeling extends beyond the stadium. “Skol!” In bars with wall-mounted TVs. “Skol!” In cars tuned to KFAN. “Skol!” In living rooms, where people cluster on couches with hot pizzas and cold beer. “Skol!” The state becomes a team. “Skol!” There aren’t 11 Vikings on the field—there are more than 5 million of us. “Skol!” The Gjallarhorn booms, and we cry out, “Skol!” Minnesotans come in every color, but our blood runs purple.