The legend of Adrian Peterson, as told by the Vikings who knew him best

Matthew Emmons / USA Today Sports By Dane Mizutani / St. Paul Pioneer Press Today at 9:00 AM Listen Comments Share Share this article News Reporting News Reporting Based on facts, either observed and verified firsthand by the reporter, or reported and verified from knowledgeable sources. The Trust Project What is this? Adrian Peterson still remembers touching down in Minnesota ahead of his predraft visit with the Vikings. A highly touted prospect out of Oklahoma, he wasn’t sure what to expect. “The first thought that came to my mind was, ‘Why is there snow?’ ” Peterson said. “There was snow everywhere. I’m a kid from Texas, and that was my first time being in a place like that. It was freezing cold.” ADVERTISEMENT There was apprehension from Peterson about how his body was going to hold up in that type of weather. He was relieved to find out the Vikings at least played indoors at the Metrodome. As his visit slowly unfolded, Peterson found himself impressed by everything the Vikings had to offer. He got good vibes from co-owners Mark Wilf and Zygi Wilf. He liked the vision laid out by former general manager Rick Spielman and then-head coach Brad Childress. “The love seemed really genuine,” Peterson said. “I could tell that they were really interested in bringing me in.” The other highlight? The food prepared by longtime team chef Geji McKinney Banks. “She knew what she was doing,” Peterson said. “I remember thinking to myself, ‘Man, if I come here, I know for sure I’m going to eat good.’ ” The visit proved to the Vikings that Peterson was their man. The only issue? They had the No. 7 pick in the 2007 NFL draft, so they had to sweat it out hoping he would fall to them. As soon as the Vikings were on the clock, with Peterson still on the board, they hurried to make their selection. ADVERTISEMENT “It was an awesome experience for me going through that process,” Peterson said. “Now that I sit back and think about it; I couldn’t have been drafted by a better organization.” There are some moments that immediately come to mind when thinking about Peterson’s legacy in Minnesota. The record-breaking performance against the San Diego Chargers as a rookie, when he rushed for 296 yards. The historic campaign when he rushed for more than 2,000 yards and was named NFL’s Most Valuable Player. The firm handshake that could nearly turn bones into dust. There weren’t many better than Peterson. He finished with 3,230 carries for 14,918 yards and 120 touchdowns and is almost a guarantee to make it into the Pro Football Hall of Fame on the first ballot. In advance of his induction into the Vikings Ring of Honor on Monday at U.S. Bank Stadium, the St. Paul Pioneer Press tracked down some former members of the organization and asked them to contextualize Peterson’s greatness as best they could. Here’s what they had to say about the most prolific running back in Vikings history. ‘You couldn’t slow him down’ It was rookie minicamp roughly a week after the 2007 draft. It didn’t take Childress long to realize Peterson operated at a different speed. He actually realized it on the first play of 11-on-11 drills. ADVERTISEMENT “We brought in this little quarterback from East Stroudsburg University,” Childress said. “We called him Jimmy Neutron.” That would be undrafted quarterback Jimmy Terwilliger, and he had the privilege of handing the ball off to Peterson at rookie minicamp. Or at least trying to hand him the ball. Peterson shot out of the backfield as if from a cannon. “We called a stretch play, and the kid basically had to sprint and dive and flip it to make sure the ball was in his belly,” Childress “That’s how explosive he was back there. We all kind of looked at each other after that, like, ‘Whoa.’ You couldn’t slow him down.” That proved to be the case throughout Peterson’s tenure. He would go 100 percent at all times, even in walkthroughs, and couldn’t be convinced to ease up. It got to the point that former running backs coach Eric Bieniemy had to physically hold him back. “I’m going over there like, ‘You’ve got to slow it down man. This is a walkthrough,’ ” Childress said. “He only knew how to go all out.” That mindset applied to how Peterson willingly sought out contact any chance he got. He would often go out of his way to deliver a hit when he easily could have run out of bounds. It was baked into his DNA. “We actually encouraged him being violent on the sidelines, because that’s where a lot of guys started to let up,” Childress said. “If somebody let their guard down against him, he would make them pay.” ADVERTISEMENT As far as Childress was concerned, if he tried to dissuade Peterson from running over people, he would be limiting his effectiveness. “It’s part of why we drafted him as high as we did,” he said. “You don’t want to take that part away from him. Now, did I want him to slow down in a walkthrough? Absolutely.” ‘It all looked so easy to him’ Peterson’s first game showed former right guard Anthony Herrera everything he needed to see. After catching a swing pass right of the formation, Peterson exploded into space, turned on the afterburners and galloped his way into the end zone for a 60-yard touchdown. “It all looked so easy to him,” Herrera said. “It was like everybody else was moving in slow motion when he had the ball in his hands. It was literally every game. The young man was a walking highlight.” So began a trend for the offensive linemen anytime Peterson got loose. “As soon as that buck in his head got going, we all knew what was about to happen,” Herrera said. “I was always racing the other offensive linemen. Who can be the first guy to get down there and celebrate with him? There was never any waiting around.” Who usually won the races to the end zone? ADVERTISEMENT “You can ask the others and they’ll say it,” Herrera said. “I was always the first guy down there. A majority of the time, I was pulling, trying to lead the way on the play. It was like a kid in a candy store being able to block for him.” As talented as Peterson was, his work ethic took him over the top. There was a hill adjacent to the field at Winter Park, for example, that he would scale on a daily basis. “He’d be like, ‘C’mon, Ant. You’ve got to run the hill with me,’ ” Herrera said. “I’d run the hill with him. I didn’t run it as fast as he did, but I ran it.” That might explain why Herrera was often the first guy down there to celebrate with Peterson. ‘He was like a machine’ As he reflected on his time spent as Peterson’s teammate, former left tackle Bryant McKinnie wanted to clarify something about which of the offensive linemen usually won the races to the end zone. “I can guarantee it wasn’t me, because I took my time getting down there,” McKinnie said. “I would see him zoom past, and I would low-key become a spectator. I would watch him destroy some people once he got into the secondary and I’m like, ‘Dang.’ He was like a machine.” That competitiveness would sometimes spill over into the hallways at Winter Park. It wasn’t unusual for Peterson and the other running backs to challenge McKinnie and the other offensive linemen to impromptu wrestling matches. ADVERTISEMENT “We’d be in our position meeting, and they would see some of us leaving to go use the bathroom or whatever,” McKinnie said. “We would see a group of them come out in the hallway and try to catch us by ourselves.” The ringleader was almost always Peterson. The target was almost always McKinnie. “I think he looked at me kind of like the final boss in a video game or something like that,” McKinnie said. “He would always try to go at it with me.” Though there were never any ill intentions behind the horseplay, McKinnie recalled a time that Peterson accidentally bonked heads with fullback Naufahu Tahi, who bore the brunt of the collision. “He ended up having a swollen eye and couldn’t even play,” McKinnie said. “We all got in trouble.” So, did Peterson