You've just crossed over into the Twilight Zone

Never in my life have I been happier for a Week 4 bye.  Any other year, I'd hate it.  I remember the days of not too long ago, when it seemed as if the 'Hawks got jobbed annually with the early bye week, as a sort of reminder as to how little the league cared about their existence.  This was different though.  Having been recently cut from my last job's 53 man roster because of my love for the 'Hawks, things weren't looking so good for the prospects of witnessing the 'Hawks Super Bowl repete performance.  Still, we soldiered on despite the cloudy forecast and stepped into the future to embrace what the universe had in store for us, because it's the only way we know how.

The week got off to a great start with a new work opportunity.  During the bye week, I bumped into an acquaintance that I had met about a year and change earlier at a NYC Department of Health exam.  Yes, I passed...  with my usual score in the 75 range.  It turns out this acquaintance, Nicky, needed help with his personal business, Horman's Best Pickles.  I had never had any interest in pickles before, other than I loved them, but I figured I need the work and it was a pretty great coincidence.  So my life as a pickle hustler began.  Whatever it takes, I told myself.  Whatever it takes to witness the Seahawks win it all again.

Luckily, the Seahawks week 5 opponent resides not too far from yours truly.  DC is about a 4 hour bus ride from Manhattan, and a round trip ticket will only set you back $30.  This game absolutely could not have come at a better time.  And if not for the kindness and generosity of my friend's, Jazz and Juan, this would have never happened at all.  The three of us sat at Olde Prague in Astoria, Queens a few weeks ago and watched the Jets self-destruct against the Bears on Monday Night Football.  It was then that Jazz and Juan pledged to help get me to my next two games.  That kind of friendship and loyalty is so impossibly rare to find these days, I just know that I'm one of the lucky ones in this life.

My good luck continued during the week, as my buddy Jeff who works at The Huffington Post, was able to get me the rare opportunity to ask Russell Wilson a question during his segment on Huffington Post Live during midweek.  What's really weird about the whole situation is that Jeff and I imagined a scenario like this unfolding just a week earlier in my backyard.  It went something like this...

Me: "Come on man, get me on Huffington Post Live." 

Jeff: "Look, I know you've been in the newspaper and a bunch of other things but it doesn't work like that.  Now, if Russell were to come on the show, I could probably get your question read on the air." 

The two of us laugh it off due to it's impossible seeming nature and carry on. 

Literally about a week or two later, that scenario that we had laughed off became reality.  I was going to be asking Russell (Wilson, sorry Okung) a question, live and on the air.  I thought about what to ask him for a little while and rolled with it.  In my head, I knew what his response might sound like, but just hearing it was enough for me to get the message loud and clear.  Having been going through what I've been going through, it's exactly what I needed to hear, at the exact right time, from the exact right person.  If not for my buddy Jeff, Russell Wilson still doesn't know of my existence.


Not only have my friends been there for me, but my lovely lady Laura has been also.  Big time.  Unlike Adrian in Rocky, she's stuck with me through thick and thin.  As a newly crowned Super Bowl champ (that never gets old), and as someone trying to find their way in this life.  Short on cash, high on aspirations, but needing to strike a balance between the two.  That's not why we do this though.  Just like with the Seahawks on the field, it's the love of the game at the end of the day, that's why we do this.  Nobody ever said that attempting to go to every Seahawks game over a 3 year span would be easy, but I do it because I love it.  That's how much this team means to me, and it's my way of expressing it, just like everyone else has their way.

Right before the game on Monday, my lady and I were able to make it up to Cooperstown for a relaxing weekend.  We would get away from the city, do nothing and be okay with it, enjoy the views, and relax and clear our minds for a minute.  There were birthday festivities too, Happy Birthday Jen and Brian, and a great time was had by everyone.  Even if going hiking wasn't the greatest idea in the world.  Everyone survived, it happens.  Getting away from the city is an instantaneous stress relief, especially when going to a beautiful little town like Cooperstown.  It's an awesome little place where you leave all your problems at home before heading up there, only to realize that those problems aren't as bad as you thought when you were so wrapped up in them.

With a refocused mind, fresh and rested up both physically and mentally, I felt rejuvenated and ready to conquer the rest of the journey.  Bring on Week 5, and bring on the Washington Redskins.  Making the quick trip up to the national's capital would be road warrior Jazz, who would be attending his fourth Seahawks game overall, and his third road game.  Also joining would be my roommate Cole, who made it out to the Giants game last season, and my friend Michelle, who was good friends with my girlfriend and an avid fan of football in general.  Both Cole and Michelle are Ducks fans, so I don't mention much about Oregon's catastrophic loss to Arizona.  It's quite the motley crew we have, one that doesn't even make sense to the naked eye from afar. 

However, we all shared one thing in common on this day.  The desire to watch the Seattle Seahawks pound Washington into submission.  It was a feeling that called to us for one reason or another, like the wind crying Mary, as good ole' Jimi would say.  I still maintain that Jimi Hendrix would love this team, by the way.  I'm pretty sure Marshawn Lynch would be his favorite player, wild, reckless, and an innovator much like Hendrix himself, but Kam Chancellor or Earl Thomas might strike a chord within the Voodoo Child as well.  Regardless, he would love the passion, energy, aggression, reckless abandon, and raw talent that this team possesses an abundance of.

It was me, and not Jimi, who was walking through the clouds.  I was in a dreamland.  The same dreamland that I've been since before last season.  I keep pinching myself to make sure that I'm awake, and I think I am, or am I just stuck in this dream forever?  Either way, I'm fine, it's the best dream ever.  The Seahawks are champions and taking the world by storm.  It's everything I ever wanted, everything I ever imagined, and then some.  Suddenly, I rise from this dream sequence and my eyes try to adjust to their new surroundings.  I had slept through pretty much the entire four hour ride, a rare occurrence for me when traveling.  Something about cars, buses, and trains makes them infinitely easier for me to sleep on then planes.  We had reached our destination, now came the fun part.

Except, D.C. isn't really any fun.  At least not on a Monday afternoon.  We walked up and down the same block three or four times, trying to find anything that remotely resembled a good time.  Or at least something that wasn't a museum or a federal building.  The first person we see, someone working at the bus station, is not a fan of my Marshawn Lynch jersey, or my Seahawks beanie.  With the Seahawks having eliminated the Redskins from the playoffs three times in the past ten years, I had expected a bit of hostility from the 'Skins fan base and they did not disappoint!  A man riding passenger in an oncoming car yells "Hail to the 'Skins!" at me as his car speeds by.  These people are not playing around.

Well, actually, they were.  A few more people offered quips about our Seahawks allegiance but we come to find that they were really just busting our chops and messing around with us.  It's obvious to us that this isn't Philadelphia, or San Francisco, and we aren't going to get knifed in the middle of downtown in broad daylight. 

Most of the fans are actually quite apathetic towards the home team and expect the Seahawks to win, and win big.  Even one of the bartenders, Marcus, at the bar near my house, thinks that "it's going to be a slaughterhouse."  Confidence in the 'Skins among the locals isn't at an all-time high.  Conversely, I'm feeling very confident that the Seahawks will at least walk out of the nation's capital with a W, if not a blowout.  Having watched the New York Giants go to work on them, you just knew that it was going to take a Herculean effort to upset Seattle.  Even the weathered and beaten Seahawks fan in me, the one who had seen the Seahawks fail to show up against weaker competition routinely in years prior, was looking at this game as one in the win column.

After printing our $19 tickets at a random FedEx, we tried to find some form of existing life form in downtown D.C.  The sun beat down on us as we navigated our way through the poorly constructed and wobbly streets.  Seemingly none of the sidewalks were completed, and random tiles would pop out at you.  We wondered if we had somehow traveled into another dimension on that BoltBus and ended up in the Twilight Zone.  With Rod Serling thankfully nowhere in sight, we traveled onward, to the Penn Quarter Sports Tavern.  Apparently, this place is DC's Seahawks bar, or sort of like their answer to Carlow East.  Although their BBQ burger was absolutely delicious, they could not compare to the watering hole of mythical lore from back home.  Still, there was a strong gathering of Seahawks fans present, and a pretty cool framed jersey of the Boz!

As we sat there watching various highlights from the previous day's action in the NFL, some familiar faces walked through the door.  Originally, months prior, the plan had been for our old friend Leif and his buddy James to meet me in D.C. and to sit together in the 'Dream Seats' at FedEx Field.  Unfortunately, Leif was still at home recovering and would be unable to attend.  The plans fell through and James and I made our own plans.  My "plans" weren't really plans though, just good timing, excellent luck, and 48 dollars.

Now, in to the bar walks James with his buddy Peter, who I had also met last season prior to the Vikings game.  We catch up and talk about James' experience volunteering at Russell Wilson's Passing Academy over the summer in Madison, Wisconsin.  As you'd imagine, he says it's a great experience and that Russell was a stand-up dude.  Exactly what you'd expect to hear about Russell.  Thank god he's our quarterback.  I can only hope that I won't be as annoying about Russell Wilson at the end of his career as Derek Jeter fans were at the end of his, but I think it might end up that way.

Our group decides to head to the Seahawks tailgate that would no doubt be ongoing upon arrival.  That's just what happens at these road games nowadays.  A stark contrast from the times I froze my butt off at the Meadowlands with two other dudes in ragged Ricky Watters jerseys.  We part ways with James and Peter and agree to meet in the parking lot.  Our original motley crew of four now faced with the challenge of navigating the DC subway system.


Which you would think would be no problem for a group of New Yorkers.  Instead, we looked like a fish out of water.  The locals could definitely tell that we weren't from around those parts.  After literally 10 minutes of trying to figure out how to put money on the card, we were on our way.  The trip over included discussions about why their version of the Metro Card was on a piece of paper and why would they ever install carpeting on a subway car.  To those questions that Jazz, Cole, and I asked, we received no answers.

After unknowingly buying a Kirkland Sport Drink pawned off to me as a Gatorade, we made our way down a street named after Joe Gibbs in a random suburban neighborhood to the stadium.  The parking lot is a sea of humanity, most wearing Redskins gear.  Large groups gather with TV's, jacked up sound systems, and there's even a Redskins diesel truck that looks pretty cool.  Still, we were having no luck finding the tailgate.  As I was trying to check up on the specifics, my phone died.  We decided to walk around the parking lot in the hope that we would eventually bump into it.  Little did we know that the parking lot was enormous.

Our effort may not have been valiant, but we decided to head in to the stadium early and watch the players warm up.  If you ever wonder how one can watch an NFL game for 18 dollars, one needs to know that you might be sitting directly in front of a chain link fence.  That's the unique experience we had in Section 433.  Still, the sight lines were pretty good because of our altitude and the view of the game and the ability to watch plays unfold was still great as well.  18 bucks, to watch the Seahawks on Monday Night Football?!  Count me in!  It might not have been the "Dream Seats" that I had imagined a few months earlier, but they were a seat, and that's all that mattered.

The Seahawks look sharp in warmups, especially Russell Wilson, as gametime quickly approaches.  A chill that let's you know it's just about time for some autumn football rolls in with the wind.  One of the Redskins defenders stays out at midfield, over the team's logo.  He looks to the skies above with his arm's raised and the crowd begins to roar.  David is ready to try and slay Goliath once again, only this time with a national television audience watching too!  Another Seahawks opponent wins the coin toss and elects to defer, an obvious response to Seattle's preference to defer that we'll see mimicked throughout the entire season in an effort to throw the Seahawks off their game.  Much like Denver in the Super Bowl earlier this year, the Redskins kick it short to mah boy, Luke Willson.  

The Seahawks come out throwing everything but the kitchen sink at Washington.  Unfortunately for Washington, they tried coming out aggressive as well, and this cost them a few times early on when it came to containing Russell Wilson and not letting him get into acres of space.  It didn't take Russell long to realize that this option was going to be open for him repeatedly, and he took advantage.  If you were a Redskins fan, you could at least take solace in the fact that Robert Griffin Tres was probably watching and might have taken a few pointers when it comes to sliding.  Russell was putting on a display.

Add to that that the defense was absolutely stymieing the Redskins running game and you had a recipe for the early 17-0 lead that the Seahawks had posted.  Which brings us back to our buddy Jazz, who was sitting in Seat 12 today as an shameless attempt to appease the football god's by yours truly.  With the 'Hawks ahead 17-0, this meant that in the three Seahawks road games Jazz had attended, the Seahawks were ahead 82-0!  Add to that the 36-16 pasting of the Packers back in September that he also witnessed, and he was at 3-0 all-time with 118 points for and 16 points against.  It must be true.  He must be the Seahawks good luck charm!  The evidence is just so overwhelming...  Guess who's making the second trip to Zona this year?!  That means you, Jazz, if you're reading.

Of course, all good things come to an end, even Jazzy's Seahawks road scoreless streak.  Just like that, DeSean Jackson had torched the Seahawks secondary and the streak was up in smoke.  I tipped my Seahawks beanie and clapped in Jazz's direction, as if to commend him for his outstanding work in Seahawks fandom.  I could tell that the touchdown had stung, but that he had to be reminded of his mortality, and that winning in the NFL isn't easy.  At least, it's not supposed to be, although all he's seen in person is otherwise.

Not only was the streak no longer in play, but that feeling of comfort that came with the opening minutes of this game was gone as well.  With every Percy Harvin touchdown that came off the board, you could tell that things were going to get a little whack in the capitol on this night.  Still, no matter how many cooky things seemed to happen that seemed to give the home team life, the feeling of doubt never truly crept in.  There was frustration, and possibly a general failed sense of expectation, as well as many bright spots as well.

Marshawn Lynch continues to give his heart and soul for this team and there were multiple runs and catches of his where I'd find myself wondering about the future.  Life potentially without Beast Mode.  I don't like to think negatively, usually, so we'll save that for a rainy day.  Maybe life post-Marshawn won't be so difficult, if Russell continues to evolve into one of the game's most well-rounded talents.  It figured as much, that in such a historic town, Russell would have a historic night.  122 yards rushing, the most ever for a quarterback on Monday Night Football, and we were there to witness it.  It's a shame we had printed tickets, it would be nice to have a stub from this one.

I'd say the highlight of the entire trip occurred with 11:24 remaining in the fourth quarter.  With the 'Hawks lining up for a would-be 49 yard field goal attempt that would put them ahead 20-10, they instead ran the fake field goal with punter and holder Jon Ryan!  Ryan followed his blocks and got to the sticks, a masterful 5 yard gain and one that Marshawn himself would surely be proud of.  We went nuts because you have no choice but to go nuts when Jon Ryan runs for the first on a fake field goal on 4th down!  The legend of Ryan now surely will continue to grow, much like his career rushing totals.

Even then, after such an amazingly rare play like a fake field goal, I still can't say with complete certainty that that was the best play I saw all day.  Watching Russell somehow manage to not cross the line of scrimmage before getting off a slick pass was pretty impressive, as was his impression of Harry Houdini in the 4th quarter when he evaded pressure from Washington's front and was somehow able to float a pass to a waiting Marshawn Lynch in the flat.  That play defied the laws of physics, and summarized in one single play what makes Russell Wilson so special, and us Seahawks fans so lucky to have him.

As the Seahawks killed off Washington's final attempts at a rally with a Steven Hauschka field goal, our motley crew turned our attention towards the exit's and getting home.  The last train back to the bus station was set to leave at just past midnight, and it was nearly just past midnight.  I don't normally leave games early, but with the Seahawks up 27-17 and less than a minute remaining, this time I did.  It was a race against time to get back to the train, but we hustled like Russell and made it to the train on time because things usually have a way of working themselves out.  Of course, we made sure to trash-talk DC a little bit more on our way out the door.  As Jazz said, "it's constructed nicely, but it's not made for people!"

The 2AM bus from DC to Baltimore and then back to New York City might not have been the ideal trip home, but it was necessary.  Like Russell had said earlier in the week on Huffington Post Live, it's about that work ethic.  All of us had to get back to work, although we had the whirlwind memory of an odd, but ultimately interesting day spent in the nation's capital.  Much like the Seahawks victory, this trip might not have been pretty, and it might not have gone exactly according to plan, but at the end of the day it was a success and we all had fun.

  
There was no time to sleep, though, as an unexpected challenger loomed in the distance seemingly ready for a showdown.  Could it be true, that the Dallas Cowboys were finally for real?  I guess we'd soon find out.  Although, I must say that I'm a skeptic.  In the mean time, it was back to work.  Suddenly, things were beginning to feel a little bit like they did last year.