Friday, December 27, 2013

The law of averages


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! 

Friday, December 20, 2013

Racing in the Street


It's always good to be back home.  Whether you've been gone for a month, or just for a few days, there's nothing quite like that feeling of being back in the most familiar of surroundings.  Whether it be the home cooking, or that corroding dive bar that you and your friends have gone to for ages, there's something about being home that evokes strong feelings.  Clearly, the Seahawks agree.  They're the best home team in the league without a doubt.  However, this week's game wasn't a home game for the Seattle Seahawks.  Instead, they found themselves 2,872 miles away from the comforting confines of CenturyLink Field and heading into the mouth of a nasty winter storm in the Tri-State Area.

After enduring defeat in San Francisco, there wasn't any time to dwell on the game's outcome.  The boys in lime green would have to bounce back, and do it quickly, because a slip-up at MetLife would mean their stranglehold on Homefield Advantage was loosening up a bit.  While hardly any of the 12th Man feared the Giants going into this one, there were still some who wanted to wait and see how the Seahawks would react to losing a tough one against their biggest rival.  And of course, you had the national media wondering if the trip East would take it's toll on Seattle and if there was a possible upset in the making.  Sounds kind of funny now that the dust has settled.

Meanwhile, yours truly was back home in New York City anticipating the game that had been marked down on the schedule for months.  Since the NFL released this season's schedule back in April, actually.  It's amazing how things change though.  What in April seemed like a game against a tough conference opponent, on the road in December, now felt more like a gimme against a team that had nothing to play for.  It showed in the online ticket prices.  Tickets that were routinely going for $120-150 earlier in the season were now available for $35 and $45 dollars.  Simply put, Giants fans had given up, just like their team had.

The goal for the week was to just have a great time all week and to fully enjoy and bask in the glory of finally getting to watch the Seahawks at home.  I find it funny that I would still have to go to another state to get to the stadium, but it fits right in with how the rest of the journey has gone.  Fittingly, it seemed like there would be a ton of 12's descending upon Gotham City for the weekend.  Having seen the strong 12th Man presence in Arizona, St. Louis, Atlanta, and San Francisco, I had a feeling that there would be a decent crowd but people were talking about so many as 500 to 1,000 people making the trip from across the country to take in the game at MetLife.  Having been to multiple Seahawks games at the Meadowlands before, I remember being one of only 4 or 5 Seahawks fans that I'd see for the day.  My, how times have changed!

Now, it's time for the gory details!  The weekend's festivities kicked off on Saturday night at Carlow East, the now-famous, always-legendary bar on the Upper East Side in Manhattan.  Before this season, this is where I would come to watch the Seahawks every Sunday.  It's a beautiful place with a tight-knit community of cool people that all LOVE the Seahawks.  Some of the biggest Seahawks fans I know reside at Carlow.  What started off as just a few 12's watching the 'Hawks on Sunday's turned into a bigger group, and then a bigger group, up 'til this season where they've had to have an overflow bar in order to follow Fire Marshall's capacity laws.  I saw the chandeliers shake and girls dive off the bar here when Marshawn Lynch went full on BeastQuake against the Saints in the playoffs.  I've seen the quickest, most depressing mood change in the history of life when Matt Bryant's kick went through the uprights and sent the Seahawks packing last January.  I've even climbed a top the bar and gone full on Beast Mode after the Hail Mary against Green Bay last season.  Carlow East is an institution for NYCHawks, and a home away from home.

To make things even better, joining the 12th Man in support of the 'Hawks this week would be my brotha's Leif and Jordan.  Leif aka ROADHAWK would be making the trip from Minneapolis, and the dismal weather would follow him, while Jordan would be heading out from Seattle.  As I anticipated their arrival at the bar, the 12th Man piled in from everywhere.  Even with the snow falling outside and only getting worse, the place continued to get more and more crowded.  Everyone was in excellent spirits and I can tell you that with each passing week, the positive energy around this team and it's fanbase has kept on growing by leaps and bounds.  It's one of the greatest things I've honestly ever had the privileged of witnessing.


With the festive atmosphere in the air, along with the snow, the 12th Man partied the night away on the Upper East Side.  Drinks were slung, friendships were rekindled, and new bonds were forged.  The Seattle Seahawks, bringing great people together.  The rest of the night was a blur, aside from standing in the freezing rain on Franklin Avenue in Brooklyn trying to catch a cab, only to be splashed continually as about 30 cabs ignored us in our peril.  The Philly Cheesesteaks we ate were probably the only thing that kept our minds off of the fact that this was the absolute worst.  We finally got in a cab and made the quick trip home and called it a night, as the day of reckoning was almost upon us.

The next morning we awoke from our slumber to pay homage to the Football Gods of Seattle.  My lady, Laura, would be making her 2nd game of the season and the third of her career.  Having come with me for the game in Charlotte against the Panthers, and enduring a 28-hour roundtrip bus ride from Chinatown in Manhattan to Charlotte, she was back in the fold for another game!  The Seahawks were sporting a 2-0 record with her in attendance, including a victory against the Giants in MetLife back in 2011, (AKA the Brandon Browner game) so she hadn't known what it felt like to watch the Seahawks lose in person.  Also joining us at the game would be Greg and Jas, two of my best friends through my life that support the Seahawks whenever they can.  Greg had been to 3 other games already this season (Houston, Indy, and Atlanta), while this was going to be Jas' 2nd Seahawks game of his "career."  The other was a 42-0 thumping of the Philadelphia Eagles in Philly back in 2005.  Needless to say, the good karma was in abundance.

So we set out for the Meadowlands on the NJ Transit, with the hopes of witnessing a Seattle victory at the front of our minds.  We marched through the parking lot, trying to find lot J where Carlow East had organized a supposedly-titanic tailgate.  It did not disappoint!  The line for food was as far as the eye could see and everywhere you turned there was someone wearing some form of Seahawks gear.  I never thought I'd see the day where it seemed there were more road fans than home fans, but this might have been it.  

Still, in this sea of humanity, familiar faces are everywhere.  Jon, Walt, Jamila, Dave, Nathan...  they are everywhere.  At this point I'm on cloud nine and I can't even begin to think of way back down to reality.  It almost doesn't seem real.  My girlfriend, best friends, new friends, and Seahawks fans are all gathered in a parking lot in New Jersey.  Braving the call for tough weather all in support of the best team in the NFL.  I think to myself, this must be heaven.  A special shoutout goes out to Pat and the rest of the amazing people from Carlow who volunteered at the tailgate in order to ensure that a good time was had by all.  Thank you so much!  Your efforts will never be forgotten!

We finished our drinks and headed towards the stadium, as gametime was quickly approaching.  To this point, I still hadn't felt any sense of anxiety or nervousness with regards to the game.  That feeling was prevalent among the rest of the 12th Man as well.  There was never any doubt with this one.


Now, those who have been keeping up with my qwest this season know that there have been some pretty amazing circumstances and great fortune that has fallen my way.  I've experienced the utmost generosity and have been treated fantastically by life and by people almost every step of the way.  At first I thought it was just coincidence or circumstance, but then there were simply too many instances to ignore.  One of the first ones was when a man named Paul heard about the idea of going to every game on the schedule.  He loved the idea and when he found out he was going to be in Ohio during the week of the Seahawks/Giants game he had to act.  See, Paul's a Giants season ticket holder.  So a week later, Paul came back and handed me his two tickets for the game and told me to have them.  This got the momentum going and the good vibes flowing, long before the season got underway.

However, in the true spirit of "Hawking it Forward", I gave those two tickets away to Jordan and Leif since they were coming from out of town.  I wasn't back in the market for tickets for too long, seeing as how my other buddy Luis (also a Giants season ticket holder), told me that he had two tickets for Laura and I for the game.  So that was my view for the game, Section 329.  Greg and Jas didn't even bother going to their original seats.  The place was so empty that we all sat together in 329 and no one cared.  


About the only ones caring about this game were Seahawks fans.  The place was littered with them!  After the 'Hawks opened the scoring on a Steven Hauschka Field Goal, you could hear chants of "SEA-HAWKS!!!" breaking out all around the Upper Deck.  Giants fans hardly even seemed to care having been rendered indifferent after being officially eliminated from the playoffs the week prior in San Diego.  

The stadium had the general feeling of a morgue, but unlike a Mortuary Makeup Artist who could manage to make the corpse look half-decent, Eli Manning could not do the same for the Giants corpse-like offense.  Instead, Eli only made things worse, throwing a staggering 5 interceptions on the day.  Those who claim that Eli Manning is not elite (I'm one of them) must have loved the action at MetLife this past Sunday.  With each interception, the crowd grew more and more indifferent.  Manning responded to the adversity with his patented "ah shucks" routine, as he looked on in amazement like the rest of us as Richard Sherman and Byron Maxwell taught the Giants a lesson on how to fight for the football.  Truly a beautiful sight.


And how about that bad man Byron Maxwell?  It was just a few short weeks ago where everyone wondered what we would do without the likes of Walter Thurmond III and Brandon Browner.  Enter Byron Maxwell and Jeremy Lane.  Both have risen to the occasion when the Seahawks absolutely needed them most.  It's to the point where Maxwell definitely needs to get the nod to start even when Thurmond does return from his suspension for the Rams game.  At this point, I might even be inclined to drop Thurmond to 4th on the Depth Chart, as Lane has done a very stellar job of defending from the slot in the Nickel, as well as being able to kick it outside and defend on an island as well.  They sure can coach them back there, can't they?

Although the Seahawks Offense was pretty sluggish and Russell Wilson didn't have the greatest game of his career, the Giants couldn't muster up anything even remotely resembling an offense.  In a truly complete performance, the Seahawks D made things impossible for a unit that could barely get out of it's own way in the first place.  Watching from the stands, it barely even felt like a real game.  We all just sat and talked as the Seahawks continued to have their way with the Giants carcass.  Not a worry in the world.  Especially not with regards to the Seahawks potentially losing this game, let alone allowing a point.  As the Giants struggled to reach midfield, we took the time to talk about Seahawks memories new and old alike.  In the background, a noise goes off like a sawed-off shotgun as Kam Chancellor annihilates Jerrel Jernigan, who unfathomably absorbs the hit and keeps moving.

As the weekend-long, Seahawks-themed party continues, Cole and Lily join us for the 2nd half.  They've also made the trip from Brooklyn to see the game and Cole's quite the Seahawks fan himself.  Having talked Seahawks football with him all season, it was great to see him finally get the opportunity to take in a game.  He picked a good one too, because the Seahawks were puttin' a hurtin' on the GMen.  By the time the fourth quarter rolled around, about 95% of the Giants fans in attendance had already left a quarter ago and we the 12's had the entire place to ourselves.  Chants of "SEA-HAWKS!!!" grew louder and louder and popped up from everywhere.  12 flags, lime green beanies, Russell Wilson jerseys all on display for all to see.  As the clock ticks to zero's, we take in the final few minutes from down behind the Seahawks bench.  Just like in Arizona, St. Louis, and Atlanta before this, the 12th Man gathered behind the 'Hawks bench to show their appreciation for another job well done.  The scoreboard read 23-0, but it could have been a lot worse.  Still, a great job done by all. 

As we left the stadium, we could all tell that something great was happening and that this probably wouldn't be our last trip to MetLife Stadium anytime soon.  We had talked all weekend about conceptualizing success and remembering what it feels like to win in MetLife, in the cold and trashy weather.  Now, it all seemed so real.  You could just imagine Russell Wilson standing out there, hoisting the Lombardi Trophy as he looks to his father in the heavens.  I was at MetLife for Wrestlemania with the same friend who gave me tickets for this game and I started to daydream.  I won't call it "a vision" because I feel any one of us would have had it.  The thought of Russell Wilson and the rest of the Seahawks hugging and celebrating as the confetti rains down from above.  Fireworks go off, 12's lose their minds, and Pete Carroll is the happiest person alive.  It's just a thought I had a few months ago, but it felt so plausible. 

So, with a 12-2 record in the books and thorough domination in the rearview mirror, we headed back to New York City with the taste of victory fresh on our pallets.  As we head towards the train home, Leif and I bump into Adam, a Seahawks fan from out in Oregon who made the trek out East for the first Seahawks road game of his life.  You sure know how to pick 'em, Adam.  A few minutes later, we bump into Kam Chancellor's brother Cornell, whom I've had the pleasure of meeting in St. Louis as well as in Atlanta.  He's there with his family and we catch up before they head off to greet Kam in the locker room.  

As we stand in line for the NJ Transit along with the crowd made up of roughly 90% 12's, a young boy in a Marshawn Lynch jersey runs around the line handing out Skittles.  He even goes up to a couple, the girl wearing a Seahawks jersey while the guy is wearing a Giants jersey.  He hands the Seahawks fan a Skittle, then runs away, blatantly ignoring the Giants fan.  It was an awesome sight and one that we all got a pretty good laugh out of.  That's being a Model 12th Kid right there.

We then payed our respects at Carlow East and watched the Cowboys choke once again in December, before heading to Astoria and Olde Prague for some drinks to close out the night.  Things couldn't have gone any better, except for if we hadn't seen the worst standup comic of all-time at an Open Mic, but what can you do.  That man restored balance to the universe, otherwise it would have been a completely perfect day.  Consider his performance the walk in the 9th inning during a Perfect Game.  We still got a no-hitter of a day, so no one really cared. 

The next day, the weary travelers set their sails with home as their destination.  Leif was headed back to Minneapolis, while Jordan had to trek it out to Newark Airport and eventually on to Seattle.  We stopped for some pizza at a local spot in Brooklyn before Leif and I went down to Long Island City in Queens, to a bar called the Shannon Pot at the base of 5 Pointz.  For those who don't know, 5 Pointz is a graffiti "museum" that is being torn down in March.  It's walls were whitewashed a few weeks ago and with it, decades of art and culture were removed.  A dark day for NYC for sure, but we'll bounce back, we're good at that.  The old woman behind the bar tells us about how she wants to write a letter to Everton United (English Soccer Club) to have them shave American Goalkeeper Tim Howard's beard.  Leif and I love the idea, and I'm seriously hoping she goes through with it.  We finish our Tecate's, Leif hauls a cab headed for Laguardia Airport, and just like that, it was all over.


The weekend I had been waiting for had come and gone and unfolded in a manner that all felt so perfect.  There's not a thing I would change about the events that took place, and the result was especially perfect.  My girlfriend's career Seahawks record improves to 3-0, including 2-0 at MetLife, while my buddy Jas now sports a 2-0 record while in attendance, both East Coast road games that ended with a combined score of 65-0.  Sounds like a USC score from back when Pete was in charge.  Can you believe that though?  He's been to two games in his life, and he's never even seen the Seahawks allow a single point!  Who do I have to get in contact with to ensure that they are both present when the Seahawks take the field at MetLife again in a few weeks?

So that concludes one of the greatest weekend's of my life.  One filled with friends, loved ones, the Seahawks, and enjoying the finer things in life.  Literally the essentials, as far as I'm concerned.  As this journey continues, I always try and remember that it's the people that make this life one to behold, and it's about finding the right ones.  So far this season, the planets have aligned in a way that can only mean one thing.  Everything has happened for a reason, and that reason is for us to all come together when the Seahawks come back to MetLife to play the biggest game in their franchise's history.

To all those who shared this incredible experience with me that might be reading this, I love you all deeply.  I could not have asked for more than this and I can't ask for more than you all.  Your love and support throughout this all has been the greatest gift I've ever received in my life.  I'll never forget anything you've done for me or any of the times we've shared.  Let's do it again at the beginning of February, shall we?

Friday, December 13, 2013

Mama said there'd be days like this


It's Friday already (time is definitely flying) and I still can't seem to wipe away the images that are currently ingrained in my brain.  Niners fans, who offered their team virtually no support whenever they were down or when things were generally uninteresting, pumping fists and high-fiving one another after tasting victory.  Swarms of fans with the lowest football I.Q. that I've witnessed this season chanting "Seahawks Suck!  Seahawks Suck!"  Yes...  someone even said "F*** the Seachickens!"  No, this wasn't a trip back in time to the early 90's, this was my trip to San Francisco this past weekend.  I should have known it was doomed from the start.

The highs and lows of a football season are a lot like the highs and lows that we experience in our daily lives.  After coming home to a hero's welcome, with the images of an epic beatdown of the Saints on Monday Night football still fresh in my mind, it was back to the grind for the weekend before a 6 AM flight out of Newark on Sunday morning.  Long story short, the same old same old.  About the only thing that really sticks out in my mind from last week was my girlfriend buying me this awesome "Every Day I'm Russel'N" t-shirt!


With new 'Hawks gear in hand, I was ready to take on the world.  I finished up at work at around 2:30 AM, but before closing up I used the work computer to purchase and print my ticket for the game that was set to take place in a few hours.  Including fees, I spent $232 to get in to the Week 2 matchup in Seattle, my most expensive game ticket of the season.  This one topped it though, weighing in at two hundred and sixty two dollars with fees included.  Still, I wasn't worried.  I had the feeling that this game would be more than worth it.  All week I had been telling my friends back home that it wouldn't be a blowout like the Saints game, and that the refs would try their hardest to even things up a bit (surprise, they did), but that Seattle would find a way to grind out a victory and sweep the season series.

So with confidence in my step, I left Queens and headed straight for Newark, New Jersey.  A quick cab right to Manhattan, followed by two train rides on the PATH train, and then a cab from the Newark PATH station to Newark Airport, and I was on my way.  In the words of Robert Plant, I was "going to California on a big jet plane."  Now, this was my first trip to California, ever, and it was only set to be about a day long.  There wasn't time for fun to be had, there was a mission at hand, and that was to escape San Francisco with a win.  

It was almost 9 when the pilot announced that we would be making our decent into San Francisco.  As I looked out the window, I saw the hills and trees that I'd heard about and always associated with California.  The sun was shining, and out of the corner of my window I saw a stadium that sat near the water.  I thought to myself that there was no way that that was Candlestick Park.  I don't know why I said that to myself, but that's what I thought.  When we touched down, I was just happy to finally get off the damn plane.  Outside of the airport, there was a shared ride van waiting to take passengers to Candlestick, downtown, and various other places in between.  At $17, it beat taking a cab for $40.

As fate would have it, the only other person to get in the van with me was a Niners fan.  His name was Anthony and he stood out because not only was the dude a monster, he stood about 6 feet tall and I'd say around 300 pounds, but also because all of his Niners gear was blue.  He told that this was going to be the first NFL game of his life and he was pretty excited about it.  He had made the trek out all the way from the middle of nowhere somewhere in Nevada, so he immediately gained my respect, despite his allegiances.  The good thing about Anthony was that he was also heading to Candlestick, so rather than have to make multiple stops, our driver just headed to the stadium.

Riding with the enemy, I couldn't help but think, this guy's not that bad.  Maybe 'Niners fans just get a bad rap.  We left the van and walked towards the stadium parking lot.  3 other Seahawks fans emerge and the 5 of us walk to the lot.  Anthony can't believe his luck, as he's now flocked by Seahawks fans on his home turf.  One of the other 'Hawks fans asks him why he's wearing blue Niners gear.  He says it's because he hates the color red, and can not wear it, so he spends a little bit extra to get things customized.  That's when, like Dorothy, I knew I wasn't in Kansas anymore.

We cross the street and a San Francisco policeman directing traffic tells us to be careful, and that he wouldn't want any visitors from Seattle getting hurt.  He said it with a laugh and when his sincerity was questioned, he got serious real quick and said "I love my job and I will protect any person in this city, no matter where you're from."  He was a class act.  Once we were in the parking lot, I looked around to see if there's anyone I knew or anything familiar.  There's a beer pong table to the right and I immediately think "that's a first."  Beer pong, in an NFL stadium parking lot, ya gotta love it!  Besides beer pong, there's all kinds of debauchery going on around me.  Off in the distance, I see a 12 flag and immediately head towards it.  

Once there, I feel a hand grab my shoulder and someone says "Davey?"  I turn around and it's my buddy Doug, a Seattle dude whom my friends and I met at Carlow East for the season opener against Arizona a year prior.  We even tailgated together prior to the Jets/Seahawks game last season.  Doug's cool people, so I immediately feel a bit at ease despite being in enemy territory.  Then, I bump into Seahawks VP of Community Relations, Mike Flood.  We met in Charlotte before the season opener, so it was cool to see him again 10 games later.  It turns out that someone back home knew Mike from back in their days with the US Coast Guard.  Upon hearing this information, Mike can't believe that I knew someone who knows him as well, and that his name was mentioned at a bar in New York City.  It's a small world, especially with the technology and social media of today.

Mike is joined by Sheri, the Sea Gals Alumni Coordinator and a former Sea Gal.  It's her sons birthday and the team was able to hook them up with tickets for the game.  As we all talk, a plane flies over the stadium with a banner that reads "Go Hawks!"  Everyone goes nuts and you get the sense that the 12th Man is out in full force and ready to experience victory at the hands of their rivals.  Fog horns ring from stadium, reminding people to make it to their seats for the game.  Earlier in the week, an e-mail was sent out to season ticket holders by the 49ers encouraging their fans to basically be better fans.  The fact that this message needed to be delivered is an absolute joke in and of itself.

Finally, the time had come.  The walk to the stadium and another probable bloodbath between the Seahawks and the 49ers.  All week, friends and Seahawks fans had warned me and urged me to be careful when at Candlestick.  Keep your head on a swivel, was the general idea, and try not to get killed.  On my way through the parking lot to the entrace, I see a Seahawks fan carrying a plate of cookies.  He offers one to a Niners fan, who then pulls out a joint in return.  The two smoke proceed to light the joint and smoke it, and eventually their friends join in despite the initial hesitance.  For one brief moment in time, Niners and Hawks fans saw eye to eye.  I think I even saw a guy in a Wilson jersey hug a guy in a Gore jersey.  I keep going and eventually I'm at security.

Gotta admit, there were some pretty normal Niners fans as we waited for the line to move.  A mother and son who just loved the game of football, as well as their home team.  Nothing wrong with that.  They were classy and knowledgeable of the game, even noting how much respect they had for Russell Wilson.  Make a note, outside of the two guys sitting next to me, this would be the last time I would encounter classy and knowledgeable Niners fans.  The line was huge, so by the time I got to my seat, I had just missed kick off.

The first thing that jumps out are the trees off in the distance behind the stadium, and the sun shining like if it were mid-June.  The guy's sitting next to me can't believe that they are sitting next to a Seahawks fan.  They tell me they've been season ticket holders at the 'Stick for 10 years and admittedly "feel like they own the place", as they heckle a Seahawks fan in a green wig.  It's nothing harmful and I'd say these guys were 2 of the more passionate, knowledgeable Niners fans in the joint.  When you're rooting for your team on the road, some ribbing is to be expected.  They ask if I'm a bandwagon fan or if I'm from Seattle, I say neither and tell them that I'm a real fan from New York City.  They are even more confused.  It just doesn't compute with them, even after 2 attempts to explain it.  Meanwhile, Russell Wilson gets absolutely lit up by NaVorro Bowman on 3rd Down.  The crowd loses their mind at the sight of Russell Wilson being manhandled.

   
The game's got an interesting feel to it.  It's what watching the Ravens and Steelers was like for years.  Both teams content with dishing out as much pain on the opponent as possible, and expecting a high dosage of pain in return.  Nothing too flashy, too creative or inventive, just being able to survive the grudge match.  The man behind me keeps yelling "they're all cheaters" and "tainted wins", he mentions the letters P, E, and D about 200 times before finally realizing that no one in his general vicinity is smart enough to understand what he means and respond.  

Luckily for me of course, the couple in front of me are just as obnoxious.  Like most of the wannabe gangsters and ganbangers that call this stadium home, they have little to no knowledge of the game or of their own team.  However, they love cursing out the Seahawks and repping their red jerseys.  For most of the game they are silent, however, amazingly whenever the 49ers make a big play or take the lead, they are the world's biggest fans.  They even try to lead the rest of the crowd to stand and cheer before the rest of their section tells them to sit down because they are blocking the view for everyone else.  I shake my head in general dismay at everything going on around me.

The game keeps on chugging along with the Niners looking a lit bit better than the Seahawks.  However, San Fran has to keep settling for field goals.  Luckily for them, they have Phil Dawson, a closet Seahawks-hater himself.  Despite having a field goal and an extra point attempt blocked by Red Bryant in 2011 (thanks for the heads up, Bart) while with the Browns, the fact remains that Dawson had beaten the Seahawks with his leg twice since 2009.  As he crushes a 52 yarder that never has any doubt, I get the odd feeling that Phil Dawson might do it to us again.  The Seahawks, on the other hand, are struggling to move the ball consistently but cash in on a few big plays as the teams exchange the lead early.

Then, with around 3:50 to go in the first half with the 'Hawks trailing by 2, it happens.  The moment that Mike Willson and company have been waiting for, Luke Willson's first touchdown reception!  Mike's an outstanding person and I couldn't help but be excited for him and his family as you just know they must have been going nuts as Luke shrugged off an attempted tackle and turned up field headed towards the endzone for 6.  He made it look easy too, burning Patrick Willis off the line and dragging across the middle to take advantage of the open space between the front 7 and the secondary.  Russell Wilson doesn't miss those.  Congratulations Luke!  Don't look now but that Wilson to Willson connection is looking like it could be a strong one in the near future.  Luke's getting there.

The joy is short-lived, however, and the Niners end up marching down the field and scoring a touchdown right before the half.  Holding them to three would have been nice, but somehow Vernon Davis is able to get open in the endzone and Kaepernick finds him, Niners lead going into halftime.  At this point, it feels like the Niners should be ahead by more but they're inability to convert in the Red Zone (or Seattle's ability to stop them in the Red Zone, either way) has allowed the Seahawks to keep things much closer than the home faithful, and I use that word lightly here, would like.  The guy behind me continues to yell at the Seahawks to stop cheating and for everyone on Seattle to be drug-tested.

The second half begins and it's more of the same from both teams.  Just two rivals eager to punish their bitter enemies.  The Seahawks bench seems animated.  The defensive linemen are in a huddle by the end of the bench and they're dancing to whatever music is blaring over the PA system.  That's one of the noticeable differences between Candlestick and other stadiums.  Gone are the usual gameday staples like "Crazy Train" and "Welcome to the Jungle", replaced by more modern hip-hop that the fans can better relate to.  I've often wondered when some of the 80's and 90's hits would start to fade away at NFL games.  I guess it's already started, which isn't a bad thing at all.  

At some point, Jeron Johnson is down on the field and not getting up.  One of his teammates, upon learning it was Johnson who was down on the ground, lets out a yell of frustration directed seemingly at the heavens and punches his fist in the air.  It doesn't look good for Jeron.  He finally gets up and limps off the field, only after punching a piece of equipment on the sideline and screaming in anger.  He throws his wristbands and all of his other equipment on the floor on the way to the Seahawks locker room, alone.  It looks like he knows that this injury isn't good news for him.  Turns out he was just put on IR.  My heart goes out to Jeron, you could just tell that he was devastated by this recent injury.  Let's hope he has a speedy recovery.

As the fourth quarter rolls around, both teams can smell blood in the water.  Both defenses have been able to get after the quarterback pretty well and it's resulted in some mistakes by both young signal-callers.  Still, the Niners lead 16-14, and with each passing "Who's got it better than us?  Nobody!" from the crowd, I began to feel myself slowly going insane.  Actually, not so much insane, but just disgusted by the state of humanity around me.  4 Seahawks fans are seated to my right, a few rows over.  The woman in front of me is now taunting one of the fans and getting in his face and touching his face while he tries to watch the game.  I keep waiting for him to finally flip out and deck her in the face, but this monster's boyfriend sees what's going on and steps in.  I think he's going to tell his girlfriend to stop being a worthless lowlife, but instead he joins in on the harassment.  Finally, the Seahawks fan turns and tells them to stop as they stand face to face.  This action is better than some of the action on the field from today!  Not the Seahawks best day of work, that's for sure.

So with the game hanging in the balance and tension in the stadium set at maximum, Frank Gore busts out a huge backbreaking run.  You could tell that it might be the straw that broke the camel's back, and with the Seahawks clock management at the end of the game, it turns out it was.  Phil Dawson trots out on to the field with time winding down and the rest is history.  No magic from Red Bryant this time around, instead more glory for Dawson against the Seahawks.  This marks the third time he's had a direct hand in a Seahawks defeat since 2009.  He clearly must not like the Pacific Northwest.


The 'Hawks get the ball back but the damage has already been done.  Russell Wilson's prayer to Jermaine Kearse goes unanswered, intercepted in fact, and the Niners seal the deal with a kneel.  Suddenly, everyone acts like they've just won the Super Bowl.  The guy in front of me turns around and yells "We're going to the Super Bowl!!!" in my face.  I shuffle out of the stadium and get swallowed up by the sea of humanity attempting to exit the 'Stick.  I stop to offer some words of encouragement to a fellow 12th Man and a Niners fan comes up to us and screams "I heard all Seahawks fans are f******!!!"  Him and his buddies surround us before finally fleeing after the man next to me replies "I mean, yeah, I guess you can be an asshole your entire life."  Chants of "Seahawks suck" break out from the home crowd and I wonder if I'm back in the 3rd grade again.  We finally make it outside and by now I've just about had it with this place.  To make matters worse, I haven't eaten anything all day and I'm starving at this point.  I see a Hispanic guy cooking hot dogs across the street from the stadium parking lot.  Against my better judgment, I order 2 dogs.  It sets me back $10 and now I'm officially done with this whole experience.  Not to mention, the hot dog sucks.

As I walk away from the scene of the crime, I start to wonder what the hell am I going to do tonight?  With a flight home set for 7:25 AM the next morning and no place to crash, I consider just heading to the airport and spending the night there.  A Seahawks fan and a Niners fan are walking in front of me, we start talking about the game and I can tell that these people are decent people.  They're heading downtown and invite me along with them.  With no plans, I decide to join Gavin and Mark on their adventure downtown.  I gotta say, San Francisco ain't got nothin' on New York City.  Hell, it's not even as cool as Seattle in my mind.  And I'm honestly trying my hardest not to be biased here.

We hit up a diner and go to town on all kinds of food before we decide to call it a night.  The cool dudes that they are, they let me crash in their hotel room.  I pull two chairs together and sleep across them, with my blue leather Seahawks jacket acting as a makeshift blanket for the night.  I wake up at 4:00 AM and make my way from the BART at Montgomery Station to the airport to begin the voyage back East.  Finally, my trip to hell was over.  On the flight back I sit next to an older couple named Brooke and Sally.  They're worth mentioning because they hook it up with fig newtons, peanut butter and cheese crackers, and curried walnuts on the trip home.  Gavin, Mark, Brooke, and Sally get the good guy awards for this week for providing food and shelter.


Despite the result of the game, it was great to get back home.  Much like the Seahawks, I chalked up the loss as a learning experience and a reminder that we are in fact mortal.  Mama said there'd be days like this.  Niners fans, who deserve all the crap they get for their awful behavior at Candlestick Park, can act like they just won the Super Bowl but who cares, really?  They're delusional, live in the past, and for the most part treat human beings with little or no regard, no one should care at all about what they have to say.  We know the truth, and that is that if they want to go to the Super Bowl, they've got to get through Seattle first and if there is a next time it'll be in the CLink.  Colin Kaepernick, Beats commercial be damned, can't be too happy about that thought.  

So with defeat firmly placed in the rear view mirror, it's time to look to the future.  A matchup with the Giants and a "home game" of sorts for yours truly.  After hitting the road for the first 13 games of the season, this next one's right in my backyard.  Yet I'll still have to travel to another state to see this one.  Could it be a dress rehearsal for the Super Bowl, which will be in the same stadium just 2 months later?  Time will tell.  For now, let's just focus on the task at hand.  Going 1-0 for the week and trying to sew up Homefield Advantage throughout the playoffs.  We knew the road to a Super Bowl would have roadblocks along the way.  Injuries, defeat, bad breaks, and everything associated with the rigors of an NFL season.

Our boys in blue have hung tough through it all and appear poised to bounce back with a vengeance like they always do.  Please, Seattle, do what it takes to pull this next one out for your boy!  It'd be greatly appreciated!

Thursday, December 5, 2013

Leave No Doubt, 24/7.


I don't know about the rest of you, wait, I think do...  but the bye week was absolutely brutal for me, as I'm sure it was for you as well if you're reading this.  After having watched our Seattle Seahawks soar to incredible new heights 11 weeks in a row since the beginning of September, we were forced to lay off the Blue and Green stuff cold turkey.  When you wake up to the poster pictured above, it's kind of hard to just take a week off when things are in full swing and going greater than they ever have before.  In years prior, I would have driven myself crazy by this point, probably because I would be watching the rest of the games around the league and hoping for various scenarios to play out in the Seahawks favor.  I didn't have to do that this past bye week, but that doesn't mean the week was any less of a struggle.

With the 'Hawks off from work for a bit, I decided to do the exact opposite.  I needed to work as much as possible in order to be able to live this dream and to continue to make it reality.  So that's exactly what I did.  During the bye week and the week leading up to the Saints game, all I did was work.  That's no different from anyone else though, Seahawks fans tend to be a hard working and talented lot, so I'll keep the work horror stories to a minimum.  Just know that I spent way too much time there for my own sanity, as I'm sure you have in the past.

So when one of the most mentally draining weeks of my life was finally over and it was time to fly out to Seattle on Monday morning for the biggest game of the season, there appeared to be a light flickering at the end of the tunnel.  Despite the suspension of Walter Thurmond III and the possible suspension of Brandon Browner, I was still feeling extremely confident about this game.  Back home, friends and family warned me that they thought it would be a hell of game.  A nail-biter 'til the very end.  I thought differently.  This game was reminding me of the 49ers game on Sunday Night last season.  Analysts and fans around the league alike were expecting an incredibly hard-fought battle between two of the best teams in the NFC West.  What they got instead was to bear witness to one of the NFL's "glory franchises" being eviscerated on national television with no white flag from Tony "Duke" Evers in sight.


With a date with Monday Night Football in sight, I cabbed it up from my place in Brooklyn to JFK.  I only mention it because my cab driver was absolutely topnotch.  The dude was unflappable and efficient, and even told me a story about how he once had to stop in the middle of the road to protect a guy from getting run over by traffic.  When he got to the guy, he realized that the dude had actually been stabbed by someone and thrown into the road.  That kind of story will grab your attention, especially at 4:30 in the morning.  

After the usual dreadful trudge through airport security (yes, they let me through) I was on my way to Phoenix on the first leg of my trip.  I had wondered all week if my unbelievably good luck with flights would continue and it did as everything went smoothly.  Then, fingers crossed, it was on to Seattle from Phoenix.  As David Bowie once said, "somebody up there likes me", as that flight went as planned also.  It was 1:30 PM and the $797 I threw down on plane tickets was not all for nothing.  I was at Sea-Tac and the finish line was finally in sight.  2 weeks of work and 10 hours of travel was now finally in the rear-view mirror.  A special thanks goes out to my girlfriend for putting up with the insanity that was the past 2 weeks and being supportive throughout.

I head downtown on the Light Rail, the next destination being International District/Chinatown, for the pregame ritual at Temple Billiards with my fellow 12th Man and .Net brethren alike.  The vibes emanating from King St. and Occidental are already intoxicating.  I'm high on life as I walk proudly through the streets, basking in the glory that is Seattle on Game Day.  'Since I've Been Loving You' by Led Zeppelin is blasting on my headphones, and I can't turn off Zeppelin mid-song because that's a sin, so I wait for the song to finish before heading in to Temple.

Familiar faces everywhere, and everywhere everyone is wearing a smile.  Damon, Dave,  It's a party atmosphere from the minute I step in the door, far removed from the feeling you'd expect to feel before such a huge game against such a great opponent.  Not even the slightest hint of fear or shaky nerves exist, just people having a good time because they know that their squad will rise to the occasion.  Oh, so this is what being elite feels like?  You'll have to excuse me, I'm not quite used to it yet, but I think I got this!

I meet 3 12's from North Dakota.  They've made the trek out for their annual pilgrimage to our version of Mecca.  It's an annual tradition they've created to get closer to their team.  When they're not in Seattle, they're back home watching in the Seahawks man cave that one of the guys has turned his basement into.  One of the guys, whose name sadly escapes me at the moment (if you're out there, say hey, you know who you are), tells me that he might be stuck in Seattle for a few days because of the blizzard that was sweeping parts of Idaho, Colorado, and the Dakotas.  He doesn't care though, he just wants the Seahawks to beat the Saints.  He generously buys me a beer and we exchange stories of traveling to 'Hawks games over the years.  Nothing beats these moments.

The trio heads to the game ready for what the night has in store for them.  I head over to the crew of usual suspects.  Todd and Jordan are holding it down and there's cameos from old friends Jon, Bart, Steve, and even Walt from back in New York!  The agony of a grueling work week no longer exists in any way, shape, or form.  It's then that I know that I'm still on the right course.  This is exactly where I'm supposed to be at that moment in time.

All of these people hold a special place in my heart.  From giving me a place to crash in Arizona like Steve did, or even insisting that I take the cash he was giving me like Bart, I can't say enough about my fellow Seahawk brethren.  This week, I was meeting my friend Jon from back in New Jersey.  Jon used to own season tickets and he was able to acquire some tickets for a beyond reasonable price.  We met at Carlow East last season before the Seahawks/49ers game on Sunday Night Football and kept in touch over the offseason, discussing big happenings from the PNW and life in general.  We share the rare East Coast 12 bond, so it was great to finally be able to watch a game together in person.  And not just any game, but the game of the season.

Russell Wilson would have been proud to see what happened next.  Jon gave me my ticket and wouldn't let me pay for it.  He said that "he wanted to be a part of this."  An unbelievable gesture that sums up the type of person that he is in a nutshell.  No doubt that I will have to hawk it forward in the future after receiving such a generous gift.


We down some Jameson for the occasion and then meet up with Steve and his son Zack to head down to the CLink for the game.  Just good people all around ready to watch their team kick some ass.  Blue Thunder finishes their usual rocking of Temple, and we head down to Touchdown City.  First, Steve buys everyone hot dogs like the champ he is.  We all get the Largent Dog and for the first time ever, I try a hot dog with cream cheese on it.  I'm all about crazy stuff like that, as my hair situation would suggest, so I wasn't too surprised when I discovered that it's one of the greatest things I've never experienced before.

The first thing we see upon entering Touchdown City is Seahawks legend Walter Jones.  He's just sitting there, signing autographs.  The line around him isn't even as enormous as you might think it'd be, probably because it was about 50 minutes from kickoff and everyone was likely heading inside to player intros.  We all remark that he looks like he could still go out there and suit up today and be a monster.  We tell him he's the greatest of all-time, and that we'll see him in Canton, and we part ways as it's time to head to our seats.  A special thanks to Steve for the $20 he slipped me for beers for Jon and I.  If you're reading Steve, you're the man!


Before I start running the risk of sounding like a weepy Dick Vermeil over here (if I haven't crossed that line already up to this point), it was time for business.  All the blood , sweat, and tears that the Seahawks and the 12th Man had endured during the bye week were for the moment that was now upon us.  Finally, kickoff was here!  Hell, even before player intro's you could tell that the 12th Man was in rare form and ready for blood.  As Steven Hauschka got set to kick, everyone wondered who would be the one raising the 12th Man flag.  Which Seahawks luminary had been chosen by the powers that be that decide these types of things to sound the opening to what was hopefully to be a memorable performance from the home side.  Names such as Mike Holmgren, Walter Jones, and even Leonard Weaver (no wait, that was just Jon asking why there wasn't a Leonard Weaver dog at the hot dog stand) were brandied about as possibilities.

Of course, the Seattle Seahawks do things differently.  Let this be a small yet prime example.  Out comes Fred Couples to raise the flag and bring everyone to their feets.  The ultimate curveball and one that Felix Hernandez would certainly respect.  And boom, the crowd goes wild!  Don't get me wrong, Fred Couples is one of the great Washington state athletes of this era.  I just didn't think we'd see him raising the 12th Man Flag before the Monday Nighter against Drew Brees and company.

This was my 2nd Seahawks Monday Nighter, the first being a 42-0 laugher against the Eagles in Philly nearly 8 years prior to the date.  Man, time flies.  That game was never in any doubt and all week I had a funny feeling that this one wouldn't be either.  After Steven Hauschka's opening kickoff sailed through the end zone and the Saints were shut down on their opening drive, me and everyone else wearing blue or green in that stadium's confidence grew.  The offense did it's part by leading a solid drive to open the scoring.  

Then, with the Saints offense sputtering, Drew Brees faced a 3rd down that he and his offense needed in order to quell the momentum that was brewing inside the building.  Instead, he fueled the fire when his arm was hit by Cliff Avril forcing the fumble that landed perfectly in Michael Bennett's hands.  Two of Seattle's biggest off-season acquisitions (Such good additions in fact, that I almost forgot to mention that Percy Harvin was scratched from this one, but you knew that already) combining to create an emphatic play on defense.  Bennett followed the lead block of Jeremy Lane in to the end zone and the crowd went absolutely ballistic!  So insane that we took our Guinness record back from Kansas City within minutes of the game starting.  The Saints fans sitting around us look stunned.  This was not how this was supposed to start!

Only, that was just what it was for them.  The start.  It would get worse, much worse.  As the rain began to fall, almost as if the Gods knew it was Monday Night Football and the Seahawks were playing so rain was a must, the Saints spirits fell with it.  Jimmy Graham, New Orleans' outstanding tight end who dominates mostly all, suffered the same fate as Jason Witten and Vernon Davis before him.  An early big hit to jar a ball loose that surely gave them a case of alligator arms for who knows how long after.  New Orleans was getting buried by the avalanche, and even when they did things right and scored a touchdown to make it 17-7, Jimmy Graham had to go and dunk the ball through the goal posts and go rile up the Seahawks defense and the home crowd even more.  That's just not smart, Jimmy!

The Seahawks, on this night, were a freight train barreling through a sleepy town in the Bayou, and the Saints were a beat-up pickup truck that was stuck on the tracks.  There was just nothing the Saints could do to get out of the way and before they knew it, it was too late.  Russell Wilson made outstanding play after outstanding play.  Picking up blitzes with ease, making passes with his mouth guard still in his hand, and just being an all-around wizard.  The force is strong in this one, that much is known and has been known by us all for a while, even if the dreaded national media is just now catching on.

What was most impressive about this one was that everyone was making plays.  Byron Maxwell was outstanding, KJ Wright was phenomenal as well.  Darrell Bevell, to his credit, called a masterful game and seemed to put together a better gameplan than even the great Sean Payton was able to.  Everything was coming up Seahawks, despite the absence of their secret weapon, #11.  The atmosphere in the stands was that of a party, much like it was before the game, further proof that when this team and it's fans work as one, magical things tend to happen.

After sitting through the entire beat down and and witnessing the utter humiliation that the Seahawks had dished out, it was time to celebrate!  High fives are everywhere and Saints fans dejectedly hang their heads in shame.  What we had all witnessed was not a game, it was the systematic destruction of one of the NFL's best teams.  They were torn to pieces by the Kings of the Jungle and left there for the Buzzards and Hyenas.  All that's left now is for the Panthers to finish off the rest.

The group from earlier reconvened at Temple afterwards.  We had told one another that, if things went well, we'd meet up for a drink (or 3) to celebrate.  If not, well, we'd all understand.  Luckily, we didn't have to cross that bridge.  We told tales of the Seahawks greatness and wondered about the amazing possibilities of the future.  Anything seemed possible at that moment in time when it came to the Seahawks and that feeling has still not washed away.  Now, it's time to go to San Francisco and keep that feeling alive in what is a very important ball game and one that will have both teams chomping at the bit all week as they prepare for it.  There is no love lost here, not between the players, coaches, or the fans. 

After the festivities at Temple died down, Jordan and I decided to hit up a bar in Pioneer Square called "The New Orleans", just for fun.  Saints fans truly are a great lot, for the most part.  Despite the shellacking, most were in great spirits, drinking and dancing the night away without a worry in the world.  The way life should be if I were to be idealistic for a minute there.  We took in the atmosphere and even got to watch a monster of a man, I'm guessing 6'5 and 260 pounds, knock right out and crash in to a table.  He was out cold for a minute before finally getting up like nothing had happened.  It took 3 or 4 grown men to help get the guy back up and on his feet.  He was surely drunk from excitement.  Yeah, that was it.

And just like that, as if my body had run out of adrenaline, I fell right asleep once Jordan and I got on the bus to Ballard.  Down I went, as well as a hot dog bun from 7-11, and I would have fallen straight out of my seat if not for the handrail breaking my fall and almost my face.  I was exhausted and could take no more.  I tried staying awake to watch the replay of the game to get another look at the beauty, but I was no match for the jet lag.  The next morning though, I woke up and watched the game in it's entirety, as well as the talking heads trying to pick up pieces of their dignity that had been blown to smithereens over the course of the night.  Trent Dilfer playing both sides of the fence and now talking about how great the Seahawks are, Ray Lewis calling Marshawn "Marshel Lynch", and Stuart Scott still referring to the Seahawks as a team that "struggles on the road."  You know, the usual that we've come to expect as Seattle fans.  All I could do was laugh because none of that matters.  What matters is that Seattle is 11-1 and the best team in the NFC, without a doubt.

My flight home to JFK wasn't until Wednesday, so I had a day to hang around Seattle and bask in the taste of sweet victory.  As I walked past bars and restaurants, all of the TV's were set to ESPN and the NFL Network, with highlights of Michael Bennett and Russell Wilson playing everywhere.  There wasn't a place in the world I'd rather be.  I headed to Pike Place Market, bought some things for my girlfriend and my little sister, and headed down to Temple to catch a Happy Hour before heading to Sea-Tac for the night.  There, I got to talk Sounders with Steve and Rob, two of the main guys behind the Emerald City Supporters.  It was interesting change of pace after having nothing but Football Americano on the brain.  The lasting impression I got was that people from Seattle, no matter which team they support, are some passionate and dedicated people and the teams of the city are lucky to have their support.  It was a nice way to wind down my stay in my home away from home.


And just like that, all good things must come to an end.  I hopped on the last Light Rail headed to the Airport for the day and prepared to spend the night there before hopping on my flight early the next morning.  Not the comfiest of confines, but who cares, and I'm used to it by now.  I woke up and took the same route home that I had taken to get there.  First stop in Phoenix, with the next one being JFK.  It's funny, the flights don't feel as long or as grueling when it's after a win.  Luckily, that's happened quite a lot this season so far.  Not so lucky if you're the Saints, who hilariously had their plane break down and were forced to spend some extra unwanted time in Seattle.  Apparently, they struggled to even find hotel rooms for their players.  Can you imagine Drew Brees and Jimmy Graham trying to share a bed, stealing the covers from one another before Brees finally audibles and tells Graham that Jimmy will now be sleeping on the floor?  I can, and it's hilarious! 

On my way home I sat next to a gentleman named John who worked for the airlines.  We had a good chat about football in general, he mentioned that he's a Bruce Irvin fan because he's a Mountaineer and he loved Bruce during his time there.  A Bruce Irvin fan is always fine by me.  That guy has gone through a lot to get to where he's at right now.  This man, upon hearing about my journey, then told me about how he had some extra buddy passes that his wife and daughter hadn't used that he'd love to give to me so that they "go to good use."  We'll see what happens with that, but even for him to so much as make the gesture is pretty cool in my book.  He owes me nothing, so I expect nothing from him, as the great conversation helped make the plane ride feel much quicker.

I finally made it home at around midnight to a hero's welcome from my girlfriend and one of my roommates.  It felt good to be home, but it felt even better to be 11-1.  What can I say, life is pretty great right now.  With the 49ers game in the distance but appearing closer and closer by the second, all I have to say is, who's got it better than us?

Nobody!