You could have called it the dog days of training camp, except that no decent human would subject a dog to this: Hours under an oppressive sun, wearing pads and running sprints.
Justin Jefferson, the Vikings' star receiver, had just completed a scrimmage against the Tennessee Titans. He was hot, sweaty, tired and in demand.
He jogged toward the entrance to the Vikings' clubhouse and the promise of ice baths and air conditioning, when a team employee asked him to greet a long line of children. Jefferson executed one of his 90-degree cuts, ran over, signed various objects while chatting with the kids, then asked: "Do you want to learn 'the Griddy'?"
He danced down the line as the children mimicked him. He headed toward the locker room again, until a team official stopped him to sign an autograph for his son and a friend. Jefferson obliged, with a smile.
Jefferson reported to camp on time without a contract extension. He did not hold out. He did not stage a "hold-in," in which a player reports to camp but doesn't participate fully until his deal is done. He did not complain about the negotiations.
If he keeps this up, he's going to give NFL receivers a good name.
Bud Grant used to say that durability was the greatest ability. Jefferson might argue that it's affability.
Vikings receivers have not always been so gracious. Cris Carter was hit or miss with the public and media, but drove many of his teammates to distraction with what they perceived as arrogance.
Randy Moss made life difficult for just about everyone around him, which is why the Vikings were willing to trade the most talented receiver of all time for a draft pick and an average linebacker. Stefon Diggs fake-coughed his way out of town after skipping practices to protest his role.
The Vikings have dealt with — and dealt away — divas throughout their history. Now they have perhaps the NFL's best receiver, and he also might rank as their most engaging personality.
"I just know what it was like as a kid, when you look up to somebody, and idolize someone so much. You want them to give you just that quick second, to say hello or sign an autograph," Jefferson said. "I definitely want to make kids' memories last forever. I know that just taking that moment to say 'hello' and teach them 'the Griddy' will last a lifetime."
They know the dance because they've seen him execute it in end zones all around the NFL. Jefferson has produced more receiving yards through three seasons than any receiver in NFL history, humble or arrogant. In terms of temperament, skill set and production, the proper comparison might not be to Moss or Carter, but Jerry Rice, the most productive receiver and statistically the most dominant player in NFL history.
Rice, like Jefferson, wasn't known for speed, size or explosiveness. He was a relentless competitor and a superb technician, who ran precise routes, ran well after the catch and looked far faster with the ball in his hands than he ever did in a 40-yard dash.
Jefferson tasted fame faster than Rice, because he starred on a national championship Division I college team, at LSU, and was highly productive as a rookie. Rice played at Mississippi Valley State and struggled as a rookie.
Fast fame hasn't altered Jefferson's persona. "I've had so many people — at LSU, with players who went before me, and in my family — help me,'' Jefferson said. "So I want to be that kind of person, and be good to other people, whether it's younger teammates or kids.''
Jefferson admits he has trouble going out in public in Minnesota without attracting attention. He spends much of his time at home, eating chef-prepared meals and playing video games.
Has adjusting to national fame been difficult?
"You've just got to continue to be yourself,'' he said. "There are more eyes on you than normal, but you have to focus on being the best person you can be.
"It has its pros and cons. Of course I like to be noticed for what I'm doing on Sunday. In some ways, I get more attention than I would like, but that comes with playing the game. I love the love more than I hate the hate.''