*Let me preface this all by saying, I would totally understand if nobody took the time to read this or even respond to it. Who the hell wants to rehash something like last week's game? I'm only posting this because you can't get too high after a win, or too low after a loss, gotta keep that even-keel and keep doing what you've been doing that's gotten you here. The Russell Wilson-type approach if you will. With that said, how 'bout the 'Hawks destroy the Rams tomorrow and start the march towards greatness?*
A $1,500 fine might be chump change by NFL players and owners standards, but somebody's gonna pay for it. Sorry, St. Louis. What a roller coaster of emotion this season has been for anyone who bleeds College Navy, Action Green, and Wolf Grey. The last 4 weeks alone have been absolutely mental! From the demolition of the Saints on Monday Night Football, to the tough one in San Francisco, to the shutout in New York, and now... to this one. i need not dwell on the subject. All there is to say, is that no one will ever be able to claim that the 2013 Seattle Seahawks aren't ready for a playoff-type atmosphere.
I gotta say, holiday travel sucks. However, miserable holiday travels are better than no travels, and that was almost an option this past week. With the cost of plane tickets looking predictably astronomical due to the time year, it became apparent that I wouldn't be able to swing Christmas at home with the girlfriend or the family. As far as I could remember, I've never done that before, so it was definitely different but if it's what had to go down, I was ready for it. In true Christmas miracle fashion though, everyone around me came through in the clutch for me. My buddy Mike had generously put some money aside for me which just so happened to be the exact amount of money that I needed to complete my journey. The amount, $300. There's that #3 again, but I'm not superstitious or anything, even though I haven't shaved my beard since the season started.
Not only that but my friend Annie hooked it up as well, with a selfless move that just proves the caliber of person she is. Not that she would ever have something to prove. I'm eternally grateful for that. Of course my lady got it all going with everything she's done for me. And if we're going to talk about clutch performances my roommate Cole was like Richard Sherman tapping the ball to Earl Thomas for an easy INT with his generous assist. I've always known I have the greatest people in the world around me, and that those that I encounter are good hearted people as well minus the occasional scumbag, but that's to be expected (I'm pretty good at detecting it). That's just the law of averages finally catching up to you. It sucks, but that's just how life goes and you've just got to deal with it.
It all started off so good though, as I was able to leave home with a deep sense of personal fulfillment. I saw my mom the day before her birthday and with it, I got to see my little sister. One trade off to going to every Seahawks game is not getting to spend as much time with the people who truly matter in your life, and I'm sorry for that, but it'll all be worth it, I promise. I love you Russell Wilson, you're mah boy and all, but that little girl's brought tears to my eyes just thinking about her, something that you haven't been able to do... yet. I'm not ruling it out, you're that damn inspirational. As of now though, you're just going to have to settle with being my favorite Quarterback of all-time and probably my favorite athlete in any sport now that I think of it, and I know you'd be cool with that. Move over John Olerud, Vernon Wells, Matt Hasselbeck, Roy Halladay, Mickey Tettleton, Shaquille O'Neal, and others who have occupied space in that part of my brain as my favorite athlete of all-time, at the moment of course. Russell though, he's got staying power. I like ya kid, you've got moxie, you've got hutzpah!
However, like the soil at the Indian burial ground in Pet Sematary, it went sour. From the moment my trek began, it was doomed. The faceless, zombie-like mob of hamsters trying to trade the wheel for an early start to their holidays were in impressive holiday, herd mentality form. As I boarded the train to the airport, I took solace in the fact that I would finally be able to keep track of the glorious New Mexico Bowl, featuring the Cougs and Colorado State. My good fortune had continued, as the Cougs were up 45-30 with about 3 minutes to go. Why did I ever think it was okay to just put my phone away and enjoy the rest of my ride, which I spent talking to two nice people, one of whom was wearing a Huskies (that's it, he cursed us with some sort of voodoo, Pedro Cerrano black magic) sweatshirt? We got complacent, the both of us.
I received the crushing news just as I was boarding the flight. There was a delay, otherwise I would have been on the plane to Seattle thinking that the Cougs were victorious, and that Mike Leach had completely turned around the program in 2 short years. Hope would spring eternal and I'd be thinking of Pac-12 (still feels weird saying that) Title Games being played on the Palouse. Instead, all I got was a text message from my buddy Jordan (Huskies fan) that said, "Sorry bout the Cougs. That was rough." When even a Husky feels pity on you, you know it was awful. I boarded the plane, certain that whatever delayed the plane was about to bring it down and end it all in one big blaze of glory.
Instead, I'm chillin' in the second-to-last row of the plane, and we touch down at Sea-Tac. It's pouring outside with no end in sight. First up, it's the light rail on down to Westlake, where, typically my phone dies. Luckily, another buddy comes through with a nice shoestring tackle ala Babs on Romo and saves the day, as he sees me wandering the streets like a wet dog. We block out the rain, and the hunger, by going to Dick's Burgers. Maybe Dick's is the jinx? Nah, can't be. That would just be all kinds of messed up. We played some Madden 25 and for some reason the Cardinals kept whoopin' up on the Hawks. Russell Wilson's first pass of the game, intercepted. It was pure domination on the part of the Cardinals. It's just a game, we thought.
As we rose the next morning, little did we know the day that fate had in store for us. Things started off great, as Leif had already given me his ticket for the game the week prior in New Jersey, free of charge. Hell of an early Christmas gift if I should say so myself, and one that's greatly appreciated. Not only that, but the tailgate on Massachusetts with some good people in the form of Doug and Matt was great also, but after that, things would never look up again. I should have known things were screwed royally when we saw this prophecy at the tailgate, in the form of bread. How prophetic.
Instead, we ignored fair warning and went into, as Scotte would call it, Chernobyl. In other words, a freakin' disaster. I'll spare everyone the rehashing of the gory details, but I will tell you that my friend and I didn't even make it our seats before things went from pretty good to awful in the span of 10 minutes. As we were heading to our seats, my friend, in an attempt to pump up the crowd as they prepared to raise the 12th Man Flag and kick the ball off, started giving random high fives and patting people on the back. Everyone was cool and loving it, except for one guy. Which guy? THAT guy. You know the one I'm talking about. Well, THAT guy decides to get the authorities involved, and of course, they're taking his side. As he pulls his best Harbaugh and complains to the referees, I mean officers, I could tell that the officers were eating it all up. The worst part about it you ask? He's wearing a Seahawks jersey. I immediately nearly vomit upon seeing the jersey from under his jacket.
As I try to calm down the situation and talk sense into anyone that would listen, I realize it's too late. I tell the officers how the future is about to go down and it goes something like this. "Officer, you know that guy is going to get in my friend's face, reignite things, and then you're going to take his side again and eject my friend." No more than 5 seconds later, THAT guy aka random scumbag decides to yell in my friend's face. They start going back at it and predictably, like the guy in the NFL who retaliates after getting a cheap shot to the family jewels, the officers go after my friend. Boom, he's getting tossed. As I try to reason with them one last time, explaining that this is exactly what I told them would happen and they did nothing to prevent it, they respond with "do you want to join him outside?"
Unreal. As I watch my friend get escorted out by what seemed to be about 6 or 7 cops, I couldn't believe what I had just seen. I stood outside and tried to collect myself before going back in and the skies were just ominous. There was a weirdness in the air. Something just didn't feel right. This was not Seahawks Sunday, this was some sort of bizarro world. The twilight zone of Seahawks Sunday's.
As I bounced around the stadium saying hello to friends, it was clear from a number of different vantage points, that something was a bit off. People were a little on edge, and the Seahawks were struggling mightily. I don't know what it was, the gameplan, probability, predictability, or anything other than a fine performance from the Arizona Cardinals, especially their defense. All I know is that something just seemed off the entire day. The only bright spot I could find from the start of the game on was when I stood next to a diehard who was stricken to a wheelchair. His energy was fantastic and I was having a blast cheering the Hawks on with him. After all the nastiness I had seen earlier in the day and on the field, this was something amazing. I actually felt bad when I had to leave because the ushers were forcing me out of the aisle way.
The less the said about what happened on the field, the better. I've still yet to watch this game on replay yet, although that will happen very soon. The final score of the game, 17-10, in favor of the visitors says it all. Two of the only things that even nominally lighten the mood are that Joe Buck won't be able to talk, repeatedly, about how Steven Hauschka hasn't missed a field goal in X amount of attempts which would no doubt lead to a shanking of epic proportions in the Super Bowl, or how Russell Wilson hasn't lost a home game, ever, in the NFL. Those two feats are now dead and buried, and as much as it sucks, at least we won't have to hear about it ever again. At least until the next time the Cards come to town. Possibly in the playoffs? Is there even the slightest chance that the Bucs could upset the Saints in Week 17? I know the Cards have it in 'em to beat the Niners, that's for damn sure. Wouldn't want to face them again, although... we ain't never scared. That would imply some sort of general softness that this team knows nothing about.
So this one definitely wasn't the greatest performance by an NFL football team, we all know that. That's okay though, it's bound to happen at least once over the course of an NFL season. Some teams have multiple clunkers in their "arsenal" this season. The Seahawks of yesteryear used to crank them out all the time. As bad as it was, it still was a game that was winnable down the stretch. They've all been so far with Russell Wilson, although one day that streak will end too. That's just how it is. Nothing you can do about it.
To cap the miserable night off, my friend and I reconvened and discussed what went wrong, both at the stadium and on the field. As we struggled to make sense of it all, we went to a Minnesota bar in Ballard to watch Chicago and Philadelphia play in the night game. Three more miserable sports cities on display, with Philadelphia absolutely embarrassing the Bears to the tune of 54-11. It couldn't get any more miserable. A fitting end to the night.
The misery didn't end there though. Oh no. Even though we had told ourselves that we wouldn't put any faith in the Atlanta Falcons, we did. I actually was drifting in and out of sleep until I heard a shout and saw that the Falcons had recovered an onside kick deep in Niners territory and only trailing by a field goal. I couldn't believe it! Would this really be the way the Seahawks clinch Homefield Advantage and the NFC West crown? Of course not. As we watched, we both made the call before the fateful play unfolded. "Back breaking interception", I said just seconds before Matt Ryan's pass was tipped and hung in the air for what seemed like an eternity before being snatched and taken the other way for six. Deep down inside, we all knew that we could never really trust Atlanta.
So with bandwagoners injured by the thousands having been hurled from the miserable wreck, the question quickly became "where do we go from here?" However, a true champion doesn't stay down. What's happened in the past, with different teams in this city, is just the past. The future starts now. This team will not blink an eye, they know what awaits them if they just persevere and keep fighting. That's all they know, that's what they do, fight. It was now time to witness the spirit of a champion. I went for a walk in Discovery Park and it was there that I saw all I needed to see to keep my spirits raised and know that this was just a minor blip on the radar. The sun, shining down on the beautiful city, as it healed it's wounds. It was then that I knew that it was time to rise up for the biggest game of the season. It was time to embrace greatness!
I gotta say, holiday travel sucks. However, miserable holiday travels are better than no travels, and that was almost an option this past week. With the cost of plane tickets looking predictably astronomical due to the time year, it became apparent that I wouldn't be able to swing Christmas at home with the girlfriend or the family. As far as I could remember, I've never done that before, so it was definitely different but if it's what had to go down, I was ready for it. In true Christmas miracle fashion though, everyone around me came through in the clutch for me. My buddy Mike had generously put some money aside for me which just so happened to be the exact amount of money that I needed to complete my journey. The amount, $300. There's that #3 again, but I'm not superstitious or anything, even though I haven't shaved my beard since the season started.
Not only that but my friend Annie hooked it up as well, with a selfless move that just proves the caliber of person she is. Not that she would ever have something to prove. I'm eternally grateful for that. Of course my lady got it all going with everything she's done for me. And if we're going to talk about clutch performances my roommate Cole was like Richard Sherman tapping the ball to Earl Thomas for an easy INT with his generous assist. I've always known I have the greatest people in the world around me, and that those that I encounter are good hearted people as well minus the occasional scumbag, but that's to be expected (I'm pretty good at detecting it). That's just the law of averages finally catching up to you. It sucks, but that's just how life goes and you've just got to deal with it.
It all started off so good though, as I was able to leave home with a deep sense of personal fulfillment. I saw my mom the day before her birthday and with it, I got to see my little sister. One trade off to going to every Seahawks game is not getting to spend as much time with the people who truly matter in your life, and I'm sorry for that, but it'll all be worth it, I promise. I love you Russell Wilson, you're mah boy and all, but that little girl's brought tears to my eyes just thinking about her, something that you haven't been able to do... yet. I'm not ruling it out, you're that damn inspirational. As of now though, you're just going to have to settle with being my favorite Quarterback of all-time and probably my favorite athlete in any sport now that I think of it, and I know you'd be cool with that. Move over John Olerud, Vernon Wells, Matt Hasselbeck, Roy Halladay, Mickey Tettleton, Shaquille O'Neal, and others who have occupied space in that part of my brain as my favorite athlete of all-time, at the moment of course. Russell though, he's got staying power. I like ya kid, you've got moxie, you've got hutzpah!
However, like the soil at the Indian burial ground in Pet Sematary, it went sour. From the moment my trek began, it was doomed. The faceless, zombie-like mob of hamsters trying to trade the wheel for an early start to their holidays were in impressive holiday, herd mentality form. As I boarded the train to the airport, I took solace in the fact that I would finally be able to keep track of the glorious New Mexico Bowl, featuring the Cougs and Colorado State. My good fortune had continued, as the Cougs were up 45-30 with about 3 minutes to go. Why did I ever think it was okay to just put my phone away and enjoy the rest of my ride, which I spent talking to two nice people, one of whom was wearing a Huskies (that's it, he cursed us with some sort of voodoo, Pedro Cerrano black magic) sweatshirt? We got complacent, the both of us.
I received the crushing news just as I was boarding the flight. There was a delay, otherwise I would have been on the plane to Seattle thinking that the Cougs were victorious, and that Mike Leach had completely turned around the program in 2 short years. Hope would spring eternal and I'd be thinking of Pac-12 (still feels weird saying that) Title Games being played on the Palouse. Instead, all I got was a text message from my buddy Jordan (Huskies fan) that said, "Sorry bout the Cougs. That was rough." When even a Husky feels pity on you, you know it was awful. I boarded the plane, certain that whatever delayed the plane was about to bring it down and end it all in one big blaze of glory.
Instead, I'm chillin' in the second-to-last row of the plane, and we touch down at Sea-Tac. It's pouring outside with no end in sight. First up, it's the light rail on down to Westlake, where, typically my phone dies. Luckily, another buddy comes through with a nice shoestring tackle ala Babs on Romo and saves the day, as he sees me wandering the streets like a wet dog. We block out the rain, and the hunger, by going to Dick's Burgers. Maybe Dick's is the jinx? Nah, can't be. That would just be all kinds of messed up. We played some Madden 25 and for some reason the Cardinals kept whoopin' up on the Hawks. Russell Wilson's first pass of the game, intercepted. It was pure domination on the part of the Cardinals. It's just a game, we thought.
As we rose the next morning, little did we know the day that fate had in store for us. Things started off great, as Leif had already given me his ticket for the game the week prior in New Jersey, free of charge. Hell of an early Christmas gift if I should say so myself, and one that's greatly appreciated. Not only that, but the tailgate on Massachusetts with some good people in the form of Doug and Matt was great also, but after that, things would never look up again. I should have known things were screwed royally when we saw this prophecy at the tailgate, in the form of bread. How prophetic.
As I try to calm down the situation and talk sense into anyone that would listen, I realize it's too late. I tell the officers how the future is about to go down and it goes something like this. "Officer, you know that guy is going to get in my friend's face, reignite things, and then you're going to take his side again and eject my friend." No more than 5 seconds later, THAT guy aka random scumbag decides to yell in my friend's face. They start going back at it and predictably, like the guy in the NFL who retaliates after getting a cheap shot to the family jewels, the officers go after my friend. Boom, he's getting tossed. As I try to reason with them one last time, explaining that this is exactly what I told them would happen and they did nothing to prevent it, they respond with "do you want to join him outside?"
Unreal. As I watch my friend get escorted out by what seemed to be about 6 or 7 cops, I couldn't believe what I had just seen. I stood outside and tried to collect myself before going back in and the skies were just ominous. There was a weirdness in the air. Something just didn't feel right. This was not Seahawks Sunday, this was some sort of bizarro world. The twilight zone of Seahawks Sunday's.
So this one definitely wasn't the greatest performance by an NFL football team, we all know that. That's okay though, it's bound to happen at least once over the course of an NFL season. Some teams have multiple clunkers in their "arsenal" this season. The Seahawks of yesteryear used to crank them out all the time. As bad as it was, it still was a game that was winnable down the stretch. They've all been so far with Russell Wilson, although one day that streak will end too. That's just how it is. Nothing you can do about it.
To cap the miserable night off, my friend and I reconvened and discussed what went wrong, both at the stadium and on the field. As we struggled to make sense of it all, we went to a Minnesota bar in Ballard to watch Chicago and Philadelphia play in the night game. Three more miserable sports cities on display, with Philadelphia absolutely embarrassing the Bears to the tune of 54-11. It couldn't get any more miserable. A fitting end to the night.
The misery didn't end there though. Oh no. Even though we had told ourselves that we wouldn't put any faith in the Atlanta Falcons, we did. I actually was drifting in and out of sleep until I heard a shout and saw that the Falcons had recovered an onside kick deep in Niners territory and only trailing by a field goal. I couldn't believe it! Would this really be the way the Seahawks clinch Homefield Advantage and the NFC West crown? Of course not. As we watched, we both made the call before the fateful play unfolded. "Back breaking interception", I said just seconds before Matt Ryan's pass was tipped and hung in the air for what seemed like an eternity before being snatched and taken the other way for six. Deep down inside, we all knew that we could never really trust Atlanta.
So with bandwagoners injured by the thousands having been hurled from the miserable wreck, the question quickly became "where do we go from here?" However, a true champion doesn't stay down. What's happened in the past, with different teams in this city, is just the past. The future starts now. This team will not blink an eye, they know what awaits them if they just persevere and keep fighting. That's all they know, that's what they do, fight. It was now time to witness the spirit of a champion. I went for a walk in Discovery Park and it was there that I saw all I needed to see to keep my spirits raised and know that this was just a minor blip on the radar. The sun, shining down on the beautiful city, as it healed it's wounds. It was then that I knew that it was time to rise up for the biggest game of the season. It was time to embrace greatness!
