Life has a way of bringing you back down to reality in the most humbling of ways. One week you're on top of the world, thinking about how nice life is at the moment and even about the possibilities of witnessing an undefeated season. The next, you're unemployed and watching those chances quite literally wilt away in the heat and crumble like the decaying stadium around you. C'est la vie! Especially life in the NFL. And while life might sometimes give us a whoopin' like the Chargers gave the Seahawks on Sunday, we must answer the bell.
Fresh off of losing my job earlier in the week, and with my heart heavy as my buddy Leif was on the mend after a random assault, things were not looking too great heading into the trip to San Diego. The separation IS in the preparation though, at least this time, as fellow road warrior Greg and I had planned this trip months in advance. At the time, we saw this as a sort of reward after an amazing 2013 season. Now, as father time crept up on us as he saw often does, it felt like we were heading to paradise. A chance to get away, clear my head, reflect, plan ahead, and enjoy life in it's simplicity and all it has to offer.
Life hardly ever seems to follow the script though. Even in instances like last season where dreams come true and the improbable happens, life has a way of putting it's own signature on it just to let us know that we don't know as much as we think we do. Many predicted the Seahawks to win it all last season but could anyone have guessed that they'd do it in the fashion that they did? 43-8 against Peyton Manning and the greatest offense of all-time was equal parts improbable and amazing. Similarly, when it rains it often pours, and sometimes life just wants to see what you're made of.
Greg and I flew out from JFK on Friday night. It's a six hour flight, just like flying to Seattle, so we took solace in that. Our body's were used to that trek by now. We were seasoned, grizzled vets like Chris Gray and Robbie Tobeck. With a little luck, we got in to San Diego earlier than expected. After checking in at the Kings Inn Hotel, we hit up our first order of business. Finding the closest In-N-Out Burger. After devouring some animal style double-double's we met our friend Giuseppe at his friend's house near Qualcomm Stadium.
As fate would have it, Giuseppe also made the trek out west from back home, only on a different flight a few hours later. As expected, he is in his orange Von Miller jersey. He's always been a diehard Broncos fan, even since childhood back in New York City, which in reality was the only tough part about the Super Bowl for me this past February. Giuseppe was in attendance at MetLife as well and it was tough knowing that a good friend of mine was having to endure that kind of trauma. The matchup we dreamed of as children had turned into a personal nightmare for him. The young man has always had high spirits though, so he handled the defeat gracefully, even offering me his seat after the Super Bowl ended so that I could watch the trophy presentation from a better seat.
We spent the night reminiscing and talking about the matchup in Week 3 that loomed. Afterwards, Greg and I called it a night and headed back to our hotel after a clutch ride from one of Giuseppe's friends. We retired for the night, interested to find out what this seemingly beautiful city looked like while it was illuminated.
We awoke from our slumber as the sun rose, our bodies still in tuned with the timezone back home. After our attempts to stream the Athletic Bilbao vs. Barcelona match failed miserably, we decided to hit the town. First order of business though, of course, was securing some fish tacos. We went to Blue Water Seafood Market & Grill, and although they were out of the shark for the day, the food was absolutely fantastic and worth the wait. The seared ahi tuna tacos were amazing! Greg pulled his best Marshawn Lynch imitation, going full beast mode and devouring six tacos!
Afterwards, we hit the beaches of San Diego for the first time. A ferry takes us over to Coronado Island, as the blistering heat of the sun intensifies. After a decent trek from where the ferry drops you off to the actual beaches, our reward was getting a chance to lay down in the sand and just relax. It was exactly what the doctor ordered for two weary travelers. The sight of the sun setting in the distance as we headed back to the ferry is now etched in my mind forever. It was rare beauty and I could see why people would want to call this place home.
After the ferry brought us back downtown, we decided to link up with some other 12's to get the festivities for the weekend started. After all, the scenery and food was great so far, but we were here to watch the Seahawks go to 2-0 on the season with a win over the Chargers. Or so we thought.
The Whiskey Girl sounded like the place to be on Saturday night, and on our walk there the streets were polluted with blue and lime green. Seahawks fans were everywhere you looked, and they were making their presence felt and heard. Before making it to the Whiskey Girl our buddy and Seahawks.Net creator, Todd, told us that there was another Seahawks party going down at Thrusters. As fate would have it, Todd and his friends were also staying at the Kings Inn. Amazingly, Todd's room was just two doors away from ours! It seemed that the football God's were lining up another amazing weekend for us.
Unfortunately, morale was pretty low. Earlier in the day, the Seahawks.Net community had learned of the passing of Les "The Radish" Norton. Radish, as he was affectionately known, was well-liked and respected in the community and was a man who always wanted to make sure that newcomers and regulars alike felt welcome. His loss is a big one for everybody, especially for Todd who had known Les personally for many years. Football took a backseat for a moment, as real life took the wheel for a minute.
After collecting ourselves, it was here where Greg and I first met our eventual tailgating buddies for the weekend. Todd's friend, Ross, had made the trip from Tokyo for this one. He stands wearing his finest Jim Zorn jersey. He is flanked by his two friends, Jesse and Micki, the pregame and tailgate crew now set. After getting acquainted, we headed over to Thrusters to check out the party.
Of course, rolling six deep in an SUV that's only got five seats meant that yours truly would affectionately be known as "trunk guy" for the rest of the trip. Upon arrival, we saw that this place was legitimately packed with Seahawks fans. Once there, we meet another 12, Den. A true gentleman, Den buys our entire group a round as we head towards the back and away from the utter chaos towards the head of the bar. Todd is in shock that there are so many Seahawks fans at a bar in San Diego. We talk about how probably five or so years ago, this bar would probably be empty. Not tonight. Not anymore. The Seahawks are winner's now, and when you're a winner, everyone wants a part of you.
We sit and watch the Seahawks 2013 DVD and relive all of the high's and low's from last year. As my Guinness nears completion, out of nowhere Den swoops in with another one! As someone who's spent a lot of time in the service industry, I was definitely impressed with the Russell Wilson-like awareness. After polishing off our drinks, we made our way back to the Kings Inn. It was the night before gameday, and we didn't want to go too crazy and regret it in the morning.
Finally, Sunday Bloody Sunday. Greg and I woke up and did a little last-minute shopping for our game tickets. The decision to wait it out paid off for us as we were able to find tickets for less than $100, which is what we were hoping for. Without a job, and with resources dwindling, every dollar counts at this point. Despite the potential crisis that looms, it mattered not at the moment, as it was time to get down to business.
After Todd and the gang finished up with breakfast, we hit the highway and head down towards Qualcomm Stadium. Not before a stop for some supplies at Costco of course! Once again, I was trunk guy. In an attempt to channel our "inner Dale" from our trip to Indianapolis for the Colts game last season, we went with a bottle of Maker's Mark as our weapon of choice. Dale is a friend of ours who was also in Indy last year. Greg and I had arrived at the tailgate just a few minutes before gametime, but Dale was ready and handed us a bottle of Maker's to catch up with the rest of the crowd. This was our attempt to honor Dale.
As our group tried to coordinate our last minute shopping as if we were the Seahawks in the two minute drill, we bumped into DeShawn Shead's family! DeShawn's uncle excitingly exclaims, "that's my nephew!" Our groups share a "GO Hawks!" and then we head our separate ways. Once we arrive at the Qualcomm parking lot, we can see that the crowd is split about 60/40 in favor of Chargers fans. Still a pretty impressive showing from the traveling 12th Man.
Time wasn't on our side on this day. After walking with two coolers halfway around the stadium, we finally set up shop next to a massive Seahawks tailgate in P2 and set out find some of our other friends who had made the trip up for the game as well. Unfortunately, time didn't allow us to find our buddy Bart, who was no doubt wreaking havoc somewhere around that lot. After some rapid fire consumption, we stashed our beverages with some friendly Seahawks fans and headed towards the entrance.
It was flashbacks of the Houston game from last season, as security couldn't seem to get a proper handle on the sea of humanity entering the stadium. The line to get in was moving at a snail's pace but finally we got in, not before missing the Seahawks opening drive. Well, most of it. We got to our seats just in time to watch Russell Wilson get sacked by a swarm of San Diego defenders. Seahawks punt.
I'll be honest, I wasn't prepared for the heat. You hear all these things about San Diego having the perfect weather all year round, as a first timer, I didn't even check the weather for any of the days we were supposed to be in town. Just like Pete Carroll and the Seahawks, taking the heat lightly was my first mistake. I don't know if it was the heat, or the Maker's Mark (or both!), or what but I was not my usual optimistic self.
This was not a fun one to watch from the stands if you were a Seahawks fan. Despite signs of life and a rapid fire offense that wasn't struggling to score points against the Chargers defense, the Seahawks just couldn't get the Chargers offense off the field. This would ultimately prove to be their demise. A combination of the heat, flawless execution from Philip Rivers and company, and the renaissance of Antonio Gates would ultimately be their undoing. Along with some horrendous penalties to go along with it. If last week was a banner day for the Seahawks, then this week's game was more like report card day in elementary school, and the Seahawks had just flunked everything.
As we sat and watched the Seahawks defense just get absolutely shredded, as players shuttled in and out of the locker sporadically for IV's, I struggled to keep it together. I started thinking of all the people who told me I was making a mistake coming to these games, all the people who told me that the 'Hawks didn't stand a chance this year, and I started to think "what if they're right?" What if it's not meant to be this year? I was newly unemployed for the first time in years, bills and pressure were mounting back home, and this year's quest was looking bleaker by the second. The seeds of doubt had crept in and now I wasn't acting like myself.
Still, I tried to hold it together and turn my attitude around for crunch time. The Seahawks, despite their misery on the day, still had a chance. Although I was finally able to turn my negativity around, it was too little too late. Greg and I were sure of the fact that Russell would march us down the field and win us the game as time expired. I was sure that the quest to go undefeated would continue. It was only Week 2 for crying out loud! This wasn't the way it was supposed to go down!
I was wrong on both fronts. The Seahawks final two drives on offense were absolutely abysmal, and just like they had done all game, the Chargers executed their gameplan to perfection. Just like that, as the clock struck zero, it was all over. The hopes of an undefeated season, the Seahawks streak of not losing by more than 7 points, it was all gone. Credit to San Diego though, they came to play. Their crowd was louder than anticipated, they dealt with the heat better, and they executed near-flawlessly against the defending Super Bowl champions. Sometimes you've just got to tip your cap to the opposition. Sometimes it's just not your day.
I say that now but I wasn't having any of that after the game. I was defeated. I wasn't a broken man, but I was definitely defeated much like the Seahawks were on this day. Luckily for me though, as I've known all of my life, I have the greatest support system of all-time. Greg and Todd were both there to let me know that these things happen and that we, and the Seahawks, will live to see another day. It sounds silly, but I needed to hear it. Todd stressed that even though the game hadn't turned out anything like we had imagined, we still had to have a good time and not let it break us.
So we headed to the Whiskey Girl to watch the Bears take on the 49ers. After witnessing what we had witnessed just minutes earlier, I was convinced that it wasn't meant to be our day and that the 49ers would roll over the Bears. And at first, it was looking like a self-fulfilling prophecy. Kaepernick was looking sharp, Frank Gore appeared to have found the same fountain of youth that Antonio Gates bathed in earlier, and the 49ers appeared to be rolling to a 2-0 start, and first place in the division.
Still, Todd remained optimistic through it all. He told us that Good Jay Culter would show up. He told us that Kaepernick would crap the bed and that the Bears would do the Seahawks a solid and take care of business. And as unlikely as it had seemed hours earlier, it started to happen! Soon, the 49ers and their beleaguered quarterback were in full-on choke mode! Brandon Marshall was catching everything thrown his way, Kyle Fuller was masquerading as the 49ers best receiver on the field, and Michael Crabtree was predictably being mediocre. Before we knew it, Cutler found Marshall for a 3rd time and the turnaround was totally complete! The Bears had pulled off what seemed impossible earlier in the day.
We took this as our silver lining. Todd had urged us to soldier and to continue to have a good time, we did, and the universe decided to throw us a bone in the form of a devastating 'Niners loss to open up their new stadium. You couldn't have scripted it any better. Afterwards, Greg and I were exhausted from the last few day's so we called it quits for the night. Todd, Ross, Jesse, and Micki met up with Bart back at Thrusters and kept the good times rolling.
The next day, we ventured back to the beaches, only this time we hit up Mission Beach instead. After a long, interesting weekend this was the perfect remedy. Just laying on the beach and relaxing. What was in the past was in the past, and only the future lie ahead, and it was still bright. After some beers at a local watering hole and some time to reflect on it all with "Dolphins" by Fred Neil playing in the background, Greg and I grabbed a cab and made a break for the airport. As we waited for our flight, we realized that things could have been worse. We could be the 49ers or the Colts, and we could have just endured absolutely miserable defeats at home. And just like that, we were in the air and on our way back home.
It wasn't until a few days later that I was actually able to cope with this all. I even re-watched the game on NFL Rewind as part of the healing process, and tried looking for positives instead of all the negatives. Life had taught me a valuable lesson once again. Stick with the plan and what got us to where we were, but take this defeat and life's defeats as a sign that not everything is sound within the plan and that certain details need to be ironed out.
A few minutes after the game rewind was complete, I realized what had doomed us in San Diego. As I was cleaning out one of my drawers at home, I found a random San Diego Chargers mini-helmet laying about. I don't even know how it ever got there, but there it was, sticking out like a sore thumb. I snatched it and tried thinking of a proper end for it. Burn it? Nah, its plastic, that wouldn't end well. Throw it in the trash and be gone with it? Nah, not good enough. I had something better in mind. Looks like the Chargers mini-helmet was making the next trip out west with me.
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