Eric Perkins

Draft Day Hilarity

It's 8:44pm, and I just now am catching my breath.

Whoa. This day just hit me like a buzzsaw. The last couple hours especially, were something straight out of a sitcom.

Things started off calmly enough, but they just kept ramping up faster and faster to the point of ridiculousness.

First, I co-anchored the Saturday morning show, and that was swell. Then I bolted out the door to get to Waconia.

They are celebrating their sesquicentennial this year, and at City Square Park they held their big Cook-Off.

I served as one of the judges for the contest. This involved sampling about 8 hot dishes, a dozen jello dishes, and another dozen dessert bar recipes.

I ate so much, I literally had to loosen my belt. The folks were delightful, and it was a real beautiful slice of Minnesota. But then, it was time to really put my nose to the grindstone.

Off to Winter Park for the NFL Draft. The Vikings select Oklahoma star running back Adrian Peterson, this week's Sports Illustrated cover boy.

Later, I got a call from a friend of mine. For the sake of the story, we'll just call him "Woody". He tells me he is in Laguardia, and Adrian Peterson is on his flight! He tells me the flight gets into Minnesota at 9:02pm. I arrange to get a photographer to MSP International at that time for our 10pm news.

I did the 5pm and 6pm shows live from Winter Park, and then hurried back to the station, where a Cub Scout troop and their families were waiting for me to give them a tour of the station.

I showed them the ins and outs of this wonderful building, and then got another call from my buddy at about 7:20pm.

"Hey Perk, it's Woody! You know how I said we are getting in at 9:02? Well that was Eastern time. It's actually 8:02! Except it's not 8:02, we've already landed. We're on the tarmac now!

I raced to the airport with photojournalist Matt Passolt. I mean raced. As I whipped by Highway 77 on 62, a trooper with a radar gun somehow didn't come after me. We kept driving, all the while getting the cellphone play by play on Peterson's whereabouts by my friend Woody.

"He's going into the restroom now... he's at the Baggage Claim right now... Meet me at door #6!"

I did. Matt raced out of our vehicle, and began shooting video of Peterson. I too raced in after Woody's wife Kristina jumped in our car, so it wouldn't be just sitting there, unoccupied.

We got our interview, and literally seconds later, he was whisked away in a Suburban by Vikings officials.

Matt and I took one collective sigh, and thanked Woody profusely. Cell phones rule.

Glad I ate all that food at the Waconia Cook-Off because there was no time to eat the rest of this crazy day.

perkout