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| Hustle Wilson sure does have a magical glow about him. |
For a moment there, the rest of the sports world didn't matter to me. I was in Seahawks heaven. As a fan of the Toronto Blue Jays, I was impressed with the number of Jays fans who swarmed downtown Seattle. Still, despite being one of the original reasons for my trip, I didn't watch an inning of baseball until the Bottom of the 7th Inning in Game 3 of a 3 game set. I had a 5:40 flight to catch out of SeaTac but I decided that finally catching some action at Safeco would be worth the possibility of missing my flight. Luckily it was, because I missed my flight. But for $18, just $6 an inning, I couldn't go wrong. Plus, I ended up getting home safely anyway so it was definitely worth the experience.
And as the Jays lost 9-7 in another disaster of a game where they snatched defeat from the jaws of victory, I couldn't help but not care. The people I met, the stories I have, and the energy for the Seahawks that exists in Seattle at the moment is at crazy levels. Something special is in the air. Take this for example. I passed by a 7-11 and decided to step in to grab a Gatorade. To my delight, they had a 2 for 3 special running on limited edition Strawberry Lemonade Gatorade. Major win. As I get to the counter, my eye fixes on to a Seahawks scratcher. I'm not much of a gambler, but I had to spring for this. I ask for 2, thinking I'll just take one home with me also. It's not 'til after I start scratching the first one that I realize the ticket will be absolutely useless in the state of New York. So I decide to hell with it, I'll scratch em both!
As I'm scratching off the first ticket, my "lucky" number pops up. 38, after my birth date, March 8th. I finish scratching the winning numbers and then head for the my numbers section. Bam! Right away, 38, it's my lucky day. The prize is only $5 but I figure hey, that basically paid for the 2nd one that I didn't really want. I head back to 7-11 and hand the dude behind the counter my ticket. He scans it with the gun and tells me, "You're a 15 dollar winner, sir." Shocked, I hesitate and go "really?! 15?!" to which he replies "I can keep it if you don't want it!" I take my money and go to celebrate by drinking the now free Gatorade's I just bought. The number 38 would make another cameo a few hours later when I popped out of my friend's car in his parking lot, only to look down and see that I was standing in space #38. No superstitions or any crazy talk like that. This just let me know that I was doing the right thing at the right time, in the right place.
Black magic aside, I was blown away by the amount of people who saw me wearing my Russell Wilson jersey and rolled down their car windows to yell GO Hawks!!! There was a bus driver on the 101 route who drove me to Renton who felt the same way as I do about this being the Hawks magical year, and you could tell he believed it with every fiber of his being too. He was a good man too, as he could tell I wasn't from around those parts and tried to help me along the way. That man, William (which is coincidentally my fathers name as well), now knows the greatest nickname of all-time, Hustle Wilson. He was even kind enough to direct me to another bus, the 105, that would take me the rest of the way to the Renton Inn. The driver of that bus introduced himself as Doug AKA Doug E Fresh AKA the man who made sure I finally got to the Renton Inn to catch some Zzz's.
The next morning I woke up for Training Camp an hour before my alarm and a half hour before I told my girlfriend back home to call me to wake me up. I was so amped that I couldn't sleep. Showered, got ready, and headed out the door to find "The Landing" in order to finally check in for Seahawks Training Camp. As I ran down Houser Way with my backpack on, afraid that I might miss check in, I couldn't help but feel like a million bucks. The sun was shining, the weather was perfect, and I could sense that I was very close to my destination, the VMAC.
When I got to the Landing, the massive line was snaked all around the movie theater and local businesses around it. So many people at 8:45 in the morning, just to watch the Seahawks practice. I was in awe. I took my spot at the end of the line but it wasn't long before I was up to check in. Just like that I was on a yellow school bus for the first time in well over a decade. A man sitting across for me turns to his son and says, "I told you he'd make it." He explains to me that his son was afraid that I wasn't going to make it in time. He tells me that he was about to pick me up but that I looked like I was doing fine and that I was "in the zone." He's right, I was. The bus grinds to a halt and everyone begins to rise. I now know what time it is. It's what I've been waiting for.
The cheerful, witty bus driver tells us to enjoy and GO Hawks! and sends us on our way. I can't be bothered by merchandise or anything like that when the field is so close, so I pick up a Seahawks Yearbook that they are handing out and head towards the hill in the distance. And that's when it happened. That's when I saw it.
Like a kid about to enter FAO Schwarz for the first time, I scurry up the hill excitedly and then look out to my right for Lake Washington. There it is, in all it's glory. My heart skips a beat as I hear the music blaring, trying to make sense of it all. I jog down the hill towards the protective barricade that's meant to keep nut jobs like me from trying to live out their dream and run out onto the field, except, unlike people running out onto the field during a game I'm not looking to avoid the guards, players, etc. No. I'd be looking to get laid out, as long as it wasn't by Kam Chancellor.
I'm chatting it up with people so I don't catch every little second of action on the field. Even if I was totally zeroed in, I doubt I'd be able to pass for a good "camp note taker" like some. The Hawks practice at a frenetic pace where even the dudes working for the team, helping move equipment and stuff are hustling non-stop throughout the entire practice. It seems rough but at the same time it seems like a dream come true. From what I can make of it all, Marshawn Lynch looked to me like he had the best practice of the day. His vision and ability to burst through the hole saw him draw many a cheer from the crowd. A few of the receivers made some excellent grabs despite some tight coverage from the Seahawks DB's. Once again, Russell Wilson continues to show that his ability to make receivers make exceptional plays is no fluke. He sometimes places the ball where his receiver is the only one who can make a play on the ball, even if that means the pass is a little far in front or a little high. Still, time and time again, guys go up and make the phenomenal play. It's something that can be traced back all the way to his days at NC State and it's something that's becoming more and more tangible.
It's true that there were a bunch of Hawks watching from the sidelines, and while that's discouraging something tells me that the Hawks understand the opportunity they have this season and don't want to risk ruining it by rushing injured guys out there for Training Camp. I'm okay with this approach and think that it's the way to go actually. Not only do we know what most of these guys can do already, but it gives an opportunity for some of the younger, more unheralded guys to step up and make a name for themselves.
With a few blows of an air horn, practice was over. Now, it was time for the post-practice autograph session that was scheduled. From the sounds of it, this session was actually pretty similar to most post-practice autograph sessions the team runs, except there were hardly many "name" players out there. Doesn't matter to me, but I'm sure some of those kids must have been wondering who Darren Fells is and whether he'd make the team or not. I'm not much of an autograph guy myself, so I just let the kids go down by the rail for autographs instead. As I was about to leave and head back to the buses, something told me to stick around for a bit and take in the minute. As I was standing there as the hill started to clear out, Doug Baldwin came out from the amazing gym inside of the VMac to talk to some kids and sign autographs. Benson Mayawa did the same, well after he was supposed to signing autographs, which was really nice to see. Ryan Seymour also signed, as well as Kearse, Zach Miller, Fells, Phil Bates, Bryan Walters, and a few others.
When I saw Baldwin however, I immediately ran over to him. I reassured him that he was going to have a phenomenal season and that he would make fans forget the loss of Percy Harvin. He simply nodded and said "okay." Extremely business-like and I respect that a lot. I then mentioned that I came out to camp from New York City and that it's my first stop following the team across the country this season. His response of "I like that" was again, very short and to the point. You can just tell from the look in his eyes that Doug Baldwin wants badly to be great. He puts in the work and has put up the production in the past. I'm fully expecting him to go off this year in Percy's absence. I then ask him if he would mind signing my Russell Wilson jersey to which he replies, "Okay, but you need to get a better jersey." Don't worry Doug, I'm definitely putting in an order for a #89 jersey! It wasn't until a day after he signed it that I realized that not only was the driver of the 105 named Doug, but that me and Baldwin share the same initials too. Yet another sign from the universe that I'm heading down the right path, in my mind.
And like that, it was over. The swarm of people walked back to the yellow cheese buses that the team provided and everyone was on their way. All in all it was a pretty amazing day. The weather was perfect, practice was sharp, and the company was great. What seemed like an eternity when I was waiting for my connector flight in Charlotte (coincidence that my qwest started in Charlotte, just like the Seahawks will a month from today? I think not!), had now come and gone. However, the memories and connections I forged along the way made this trip unforgettable. My belief in this being the Seahawks year is even more steadfast, if that's at all possible, and I now know that the boys will be ready to destroy this man in just a month's time...
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| Victim numero uno |
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