The Harder They Come

The week leading up to the Seahawks massive tilt with the division-leading Cardinals felt like it just flew by. Originally, my lady and I had hoped to make the trip out to Seattle together. It would have been her first time. We were going to stay at a friend's place in Oakland after the Cardinals game and check out the Thanksgiving game against the Niners before finally flying back home to the East Coast. The recurring theme of this season has been that things don't always go according to plan. This would be no different.

I was grateful for the job at the pickle stand, but it wasn't getting the job done. My inability to find a job that paid well enough to support my lifestyle, let alone the both of us, meant that my lady was making the ultimate sacrifice. She was going to stay behind while I got to go out West. All week while I worked, I thought that I didn't deserve this. I didn't deserve to go and have a good time while she missed out on all of the fun. Being the amazing woman that she is, she assured me that I needed to go, and that I couldn't get down. Things would be alright and there was always next year. That wasn't good enough for me.

As I made it to the airport on Sunday for my 6 AM flight from Newark to Detroit, I had come to terms with the fact that this might be the end of the glorious run that had started a year and a half earlier. I didn't care about making it to 30 games in a row. None of that stuff matters in life if you don't have anyone to share it with. Totally resigned to my fate, I was pleasantly surprised when my flight left 5 minutes early. I'd never been to Detroit before, and truth be told, I was only there for 48 minutes. I was cutting it close with a 48 minute layover, but it's all that I could afford.

In fact, I couldn't even afford it. The journey really should have ended earlier in the week. With two games in a four day span, it meant that I wasn't going to be able to make it back to NYC and work in between games like I normally do. I would have to stay out on the West Coast for the week. Flights around the holiday's aren't cheap. I was tapped out for cash, but yet again, I've been truly blessed to be surrounded by the amazing people that I call friends and loved ones. Especially you, babe.

All year long, I've gotten by on this journey through sheer luck, perseverance, and the generosity of those who I love. Laura, Glen, Cindy, Luis, Greg, Jazz, Juan, Margaret, Steve, Bart, Eli, Jordan, the Midwest Seahawkers... the list of those who have gone above and beyond the call of duty just to help me is extensive. Add three more names to the list. Mike, Darryl, and Matt. When they heard that I needed help, they reached out and gave me a lifeline. None of these selfless acts will ever be forgotten, they will all be repaid in many ways, and I've got a special place in my heart for all of them. It's amazing feeling when people join together as a collective to help you achieve a dream or goal that you're passionate about.

This wasn't the way I wanted any of this to go down. Last year was full of acts of generosity and kindness, which is why we came up with the phrase "Hawk it Forward." Still, I busted my tail at work and felt like I could look in the mirror at the end of the day and say to myself "earn everything" and truly believe it. This year, I looked in the mirror and I saw something else. I don't know what it was that I saw, but I didn't like it.

Perseverance is in my blood though. My parents have always been legendary fighters, battling life's many twists and turns and always making it through to the other side regardless of the odds. I've inherited that and there's no turning back now. The going had gotten tough with the Seahawks sitting at 6-4 after a tough loss in Kansas City, but the the grueling travel and devastating manner of defeat had taught me a lot about not only myself, but life. Everyone knows it's easy to be a part of something when things are going great but that the true test of character comes when things get tough. You hear that all the time, and you see people quoting cliche's like that all over the internet. It doesn't mean anything anymore, but it's still true. And you don't learn it until you learn it for yourself, first hand.

Granted, I had been through much worse in my life than a 6-4 season after winning a Super Bowl, but this was more about real life than the Seahawks. I had family in the hospital, loved ones I missed at home, life on the road was taking it's toll. In fact, I was very proud of the Seahawks 6-4 record despite all of the injuries, the brutal schedule, the miserably lopsided officiating in every game, the underperformance of key players and depth alike. They weren't dead yet, and that's all I could ask for. It made me think though. If they haven't given up, then why should I?

So, as I boarded that Delta plane from Detroit to Seattle, I thought instead about how fortunate I was. How lucky I was. Yeah, I'd be away from my loved ones on Thanksgiving, but I'd be learning the true meaning of Thanksgiving instead. A valuable life lesson that I'd never forget. When you've got nothing but the people around you, you start to realize what's really important in this life. Those same loved ones had afforded me the opportunity of a lifetime. They saw my vision and believed in my dream. I had to honor them by making the absolute most out of it.

Once I sat down, I saw how lucky I really was. That middle seat didn't seem so bad anymore. The woman next to me tells me about how she was scheduled to fly out the day before, but the airport was closed due to icy conditions. Luckily, with no time to spare at all, things cleared up in a 24 hour span. There were no delays, and within minutes, we were off to my home away from home.

Making the most of the opportunity meant staying true to myself and to tradition. I hadn't written about the Week 11 game at Kansas City, so I used the entire flight out West to write that and make sure that it was posted before game time. I truly believe that if I hadn't, and if I had just given up on it, that things would have turned out quite differently on this trip. The Seahawks still win, but would I have enjoyed it as much knowing that I wasn't able to deliver? We'll never know.

We'll never know because I did finish writing. The first thing I did when I landed at Sea-Tac was post the writeup. Then, I made my way downtown on the Light Rail. Once downtown, I can see that there's a different buzz in the air. It's not really different, in fact it's that familiar feeling that seemed to have left everybody. That playoff-type atmosphere that was so prevalent atevery game last season. A rush of confidence comes over me, as I start to imagine visions of Drew Stanton running for his life, making horrible decisions, and getting pounded into the turf by a Seahawks defense that promised to be hungrier than ever.

I get to Temple and I'm greeted by the usual suspects. I'm talking with Steve and his son's friend Tim, who I met in Arizona before the Cardinals game last year, when Matt shows up with two beers in his hand. He hands one to me and says hello. I'd be sitting with Matt in his seats on this odd, rainy yet sunny day. He didn't ask for a dime for that ticket, although he could have. He could have asked for many dimes. However, he had told me before Training Camp that he wanted to take me to a game, and he followed through with his word. An increasingly rare trait now a days, so to say that I was grateful is a bit of an understatement.

Todd, Dom, Jordan, Eli, they're all there. The topic of conversation shifts towards the game at hand. Such a huge game that could define the Seahawks season. We had all read the quotes heading into the game. Bruce Arians talking about how his team, while 9-1, hadn't accomplished anything yet. Seattle was the team that was defending Super Bowl champs. Then, you had Pete Carroll talking about how cool the opportunity at hand was. I love the way Pete speaks to the media. He's optimistic, positive, and upbeat and he treats the media with respect. Even if they don't deserve it most of the time.

With both coaches talking up the opposition, and with so much at stake, you knew that both teams were going to bring their A game. Matt and I brought ourselves to finally leave Temple and head to the game. We're waiting in line to get through security as the clock clicks ever closer towards game time. It's taking longer than usual, and as I turn away for a second to talk to another Seahawks fan, a man cuts me in line. I don't even notice, but Matt does. He stands up for me in the most diplomatic way possible, and eventually, the line cutter sees his point of view, apologizes, and there is peace in the air. It was pretty amazing, actually. Already knew that Matthew had excellent character, but this just further solidified that.

Hey Paulie, do you think we could get a few more security/bag checkers down by the North End Zone? Thanks. Once inside the CLink, the raucous atmosphere is music to our ears. We run to our seats, stopping at each lookout on every level on the way up to watch the upcoming play. Hauschka's kickoff is foolishly taken out of the end zone by Arizona, only to be blown up inside the 15 yard line. The crowd gets even crazier. Once the defense takes the field, it's apparent that these guys are locked in. The sort of defensive performance that was lacking for most of, if not all, season. The intensity, the fire, the passion, it's all on display on this opening defensive stand. The Cardinals are forced to punt, and you can see the defense feeding off the crowd's vibrant energy.

The offense takes the field and quickly gets to work, as pleasant surprise pickup Tony Moeaki is on the receiving end of a 17 yard pass from Hustle Wilson. Shortly after, Beast gets the train rolling with a 9 yard gain. The Cards Defensive Line showed it's mettle with a stuff on 2nd and short, but a third carry in a row for 'Shawn netted the Seahawks 4 yards and that was good for another Seahawks, first down! The drive would stall out at the Arizona 9 yard line though, as Beast couldn't quite get the extra yard, as he usually so often does, on 3rd down and 7. Seattle settles for a little bit of Hausch Money, as Steven bangs home the chippy from 27 yards out. Seattle 3, Arizona 0.

A big issue in this game was the officiating, and that was evident from the early going. On 2nd and 5 from the Arizona 28, Drew Stanton heaves up a prayer downfield to scintillating rookie sensation John Brown. The throw is a duck, and Byron Maxwell times his leap and defends the play cleanly. Or so it seemed. A flag comes flying in, and B Max gets tagged with a 39 yard pass interference penalty. The crowd is absolutely livid and more than a few obscenities can be heard echoing throughout the mob. It was an absolutely brutal call, and it gives the Cardinals excellent field position. Even Pete Carroll is giving the officials the business, even chasing down the sideline and giving the official a real piece of his mind.

Sometimes, the ball doesn't lie though. After the Seahawks defense continued to prove too stout for the Cardinal ground game and Drew Stanton, Chandler Catanzaro pushes a 49 yarder wide right, and the Seahawks remain on top 3-0. The crowd's salty mood from the horrid call just minutes earlier already a memory of the not-so-distant past. The ensuing Seahawks possession goes absolutely nowhere however, and after 2 of the 3 plays ran go for negative yardage, John Ryan comes in and gets off an absolute beauty of a punt. It's a 58 yarder that pins the Cardinals deep inside their own territory at the 10 yard line.
 
Once again, the Seahawks defense proved to ultimately be overwhelming for their weary visitors from the desert. The drive is highlighted by a sack by Jordan Hill, who uses Drew Stanton's jock strap to help take him down on a key 3rd down stop to force a punt. With my friends and I's annual Turkey Bowl on the horizon, I don't know how such a play would go over with my friends. There's been complaints after shirt grabbing and shirt neck stretching before, I highly doubt that everyone would be cool with a getting taken down by the jock. I must admit, I had never seen that before, and I actually didn't even notice that it happened when it happened live. 

Hustle Wilson wastes no time on the following Seahawks drive, hurling a 48 yarder on a broken coverage to Ricardo Lockette who was completely unguarded on the right side of the field. Hustle pulls the no-look pass, looking deep left before throwing it right to wide open Ricardo at the last possible second. In what was a recurring theme for the afternoon, Hustle takes a shot after releasing the ball, but he showed impressive toughness by standing in there and taking the hit while still keeping his eyes downfield. The quarter draws to a close with the good guys in front 3-0.

Arizona's defense continued to live up to it's lofty billing. 2 sacks in the red zone immediately after the teams switched sides putting a halt to the Seahawks hopes of finally punching it into the end zone. After the game in Kansas City, this appeared to be a consistent problem. Credit goes out to the Arizona defensive front though, their scheme and execution impressive from the view in 336. Hauschka drills another one from short range, this time from 32 yards out, as the 'Hawks push their lead to 6-0. Still, the crowd groans in frustration and laments the missed opportunities on offense already. Arizona's defense wasn't about to roll over and let the Seahawks into the end zone, and Seattle would need something special in order to create some distance on the scoreboard. The last thing you wanted was for the Cardinals to hang around and pull out a close one because the Seahawks couldn't close it out when they had the chance.

Thankfully, the Seahawks defense was intent on ruining Drew Stanton's day. Byron Maxwell is the lucky recipient of an interception donor from the Cardinal backup, and the Seahawks have absolutely fantastic field position to start their next drive. Matt and I, along with the rest of 336, jump and high five, yelling to the heavens like it was 2013. The fans in this section were great. They were in the game and making noise the entire game. However, besides a nice pitch and catch from Hustle to Kearse for 19, the Seahawks offense continues to be unable to contain the Arizona pass rush. The constant harassment of Mr. Wilson leads to the 'Hawks having to settle for another field goal, despite having started the drive at the Cardinal 48. Hausch Money continues to be as reliable as they come, his 52 yard boot officially making it a two possession game.

Although Matt and I breathe a sigh of relief, we're still concerned with the Seahawks lack of movement on offense. Hopefully it doesn't come back to haunt us. Not on the defense's watch, no. Not today. Yet another Cardinals drive is virtually non-existent and they are forced to punt, a 35 yarder from Drew Butler not being quite the result they were looking for. Once again, the Seahawks start at the 48, and once again they fail to move the ball down the field. Marshawn Lynch is being stymied by Calais Campbell and his wrecking crew up front, and the sacks continue in the passing game. A combination of poor design, late releases, and poor blocking conspiring to stall the Seahawks offense yet again. Only this time, Steven Hauschka's 49 yard attempt is blocked. It appears that momentum has shifted over to the visitor's sideline, as they celebrate a big play that helps keep the score 9-0.

And wouldn't you know it, the Cardinals finally start moving the ball after the block. Luckily they've got red zone issues of their own, or catching issues more specifically, as rookie wideout Jaron "I'm not John" Brown drops an easy touchdown pass without a defender near him to contest the throw. We'll take it though, especially against a division rival. Especially against a division rival as a matter of fact! Catanzaro comes on and drains a chip shot of his own. The rookie's 23 yarder makes it 9-3 with the end of the first half quickly approaching. Despite allowing the points, it feels like a win for the Seahawks D after getting away with the dropped touchdown. It took the Cardinals 15 plays to get within scoring range, and only coming away with 3 had to be disappointing, despite having made it a one score game again.

It's halftime and I'm on my way back to our seats from the restroom when I see a woman being removed by security. "You can't kick me out!", she yells, as stadium security clearly disobeys her wishes. She is kicking and flailing, as 3 or 4 guards are assigned to restrain her. The man she is with is not too far behind her, an army of security and police there to escort him to the rampway as he shouts "1,000 dollars down the drain because of you!" at the woman as the two are jettisoned to parts unknown. I reminisce for a minute about last season's Cardinals game, when it was one of my own friends that was the one getting tossed. That was a really weird day. I'll never forget it. Everything was off, from the play on the field to the vibe up in the stands. It didn't surprise me that the Seahawks lost on that day, it was perfectly fitting.

With that behind me, quite literally, I make it back just in time for the start of the second half. The teams trade punts to start the third quarter, however, it's quite the unfair trade as the Cardinals punt attempt is blocked by the other 'Shawn, DeShawn Shead! The only thing that could top this play that sends the CLink into a state of euphoria is the tackle that Cooper Helfet puts on the sorry Cardinals special teamer who picks up the block and tries to advance it down field. It's something in between a German Suplex and a Razor's Edge from my vantage point in 336, the little kid who loved wrestling in me brimming with excitement after a gargantuan slam. The ball flies out and Seattle takes over at the Arizona 24. Surely, this must be the chance to put this game away.

"Not so fast", says the Arizona defense. Once again, they proved too much for the Seahawks offense to handle up front. After a few meager gains, sandwiched around another false start penalty at home, Hausch trots back on for his 5th attempt of the day. Steven wasn't about to miss another one, or have it blocked, and he slots the 40 yard attempt through the uprights. It's 12-3, once again a two possession game, but once again a stalled drive from the offense when it would have been nice to seal the deal after a huge momentum shifting play on the blocked punt.

Still, there was no need to fear, because the Seahawks defense combined with the Cards not having Palmer or Fitz, meant no more points for Arizona. Drew Stanton continued to look inept, and after another Drew Butler punt, the Seahawks offense would finally engineer their first touchdown drive of the game.

The tight ends for Seattle were the standouts of the drive, and of the game, I thought. Russell was incredibly efficient, despite ultimately finishing the game having taken 7 sacks, but the tight end position showed incredible improvement. Moeaki showed that he's still a smooth receiver who has the ability to block in-line like he was in KC before the injuries began to mount, Willson threw some key blocks on some big plays while once again catching everything thrown his way, and Helfet, well Helfet might have had the best game out of all them. Not only did he have the monster tackle on special teams after the blocked punt just a bit earlier, but he would also be on the receiving end of a nifty 20 yard touchdown from Hustle Wilson. Textbook Seahawks football, play action, Wilson rolls right and finds an open Helfet who then follows the lead block of "Itula 2.0", Tony Moeaki right on in for six. His dive to cross the pylon a nice exclamation point to a sweet play.

The game wasn't in much doubt after that. Drew Stanton just wasn't inspiring any fear in anyone, and the Seahawks were playing with way too much confidence and desire. The return of Bobby Wagner and his immediate impact on the game and the middle of the Seahawks defense in particular can not be overstated. B Wagz negated the loss of Brandon Mebane, at least for a day, and Travian Robertson played well in Mebane's place in the snaps that I made sure to watch him closely. It was impressive to see Seattle's run defense recover so quickly having been gashed repeatedly by Jamaal Charles and company. Sure, Andre Ellington and the Cardinals OLine aren't adept at running between the tackles, but it was still a boost of confidence that Pete Carroll and Dan Quinn will gladly embrace. Hats off to Wagner for being sharp upon his return.

The 4th quarter rolls around and by now, the Seahawks have cemented their dominance over their divisional foes. Matt and I continue to watch on as the Cardinals struggle to muster up anything closely resembling offensive production. The Seahawks ultimately seal the deal with an outstanding final drive to chew up the remaining 6 minutes and 53 seconds of clock. The game clock strikes zero's, and the Cardinals trot back to their locker room. Meanwhile, the crowd roars in appreciation of an outstanding performance from the home team. The players run to the locker room excitedly, and deservedly so, as General Manager John Schneider waits to congratulate his team once they walk through those locker room doors. The synergy, camaraderie, and togetherness that appeared to be just off this season look like they're making a comeback. Players are smiling and having fun. It's said that winning cures everything, this stands to be exhibit A.

Matt and I exit the stadium and walk past Blue Thunder giving the fans a final performance for the day. We head to Temple and meet with Jordan and his friends and the lot of us discuss an outstanding defensive performance and what it means for the team moving forward. Eventually, we head our separate ways, as I thank Matt for everything one last before he heads home on his own journey. I join Jordan and his buddies in their quest to Beacon Hill, as we grab a beer and munch on some popcorn. Things aren't perfect in Seahawks land, but the win against the Cardinals meant a lot for the team and it's fans moving forward. To not only beat your 9-1 division-leading rivals, but to smack the soul out of them in the process, that feels great!

We head back to Jordan's and call it a night. I've got my customary spot on the couch that I've occupied numerous times over the past year and a half, for which I'm deeply thankful for. The next day, we just chilled. It was nice being able to play some Madden, grab some excellent Mexican food, and watch an NFL game that I wasn't heavily invested in for a change. Watching Justin Forsett tear up the Saints was great to see, as I always had a soft-spot for that guy when he was with Seattle. Temple's empty for the game, but it's a nice spot to sit, relax, and reflect. I also purchase a bus ticket to San Francisco from Seattle while I'm there. It would be leaving the following morning and arriving in San Francisco the day after that. 25 hours in the Greyhound world, once again. It had become a recurring theme.

I woke up the next morning and walked from Beacon Hill to the Greyhound station near CenturyLink. It's raining, and the rain picks up it's intensity as I continue on my trek to be with the dregs of society. Who knows, maybe people thought I was one of those dregs when they see me riding the bus with them? It's a nice, early morning walk that only takes a half hour but has much more of a lasting effect on me, as I get to see the Seattle morning commute with my own eyes. I walk across a bridge that overlooks a Seattle highway, cars backed up and stuck in neutral, the morning traffic crunch seemingly in full swing.

I get to the Greyhound, pick up my ticket at will call, and make my way on to the bus. The TV's are littered with images of riots, destruction, and anarchy in Ferguson, Missouri. Despite the wild images, I try to keep my mind focused on the task at hand. I was in my own little world, on a mission that most don't understand or even care to understand. And I was okay with that. Understanding is one of the key virtues in life, even when we can't comprehend or disagree with something.

As our bus was set for departure, I thought about what was in the offing. Thanksgiving Day against the Niners in Santa Clara. You couldn't have scripted this any better if you were the NFL. Both teams standing at 7-4, a huge turning point game that could decide the bitter rivals' future. I figured there would be the usual hostility and bad blood between the fan bases, but I didn't want to let that influence me as a person or what I believe in. I wanted to reach out to Niners fans on Thanksgiving. Maybe even tailgate with them. We were enemies in the stadium and on the field, but that didn't meant that we couldn't respect one another as brothers and sisters of this world outside of it or off of it.

It was just a few moments later, as our bus stopped for a break in Portland, that a young man sitting towards the back of the bus with me asked if I was going to the game. "Of course!", I replied, to which he responded with a "yeah, me too" of his own. I asked if he was a Seahawks fan, to which he replied "screw the Seahawks, Niners baby! We're gonna beat you guys bad! I've been waiting for revenge for months!" I laugh and figure that this was the universe's way of teaching me to respect my brother, even if he's supposed to be my enemy. 


We continue chatting as we walk off the bus, another 22 hours of travel remaining for us to talk trash, life, and everything in between. I was excited for the ride down the West Coast, an excellent game on Thanksgiving, and whatever else I was sure to find in between. I missed my lady, my family, and my friends back home but it was their memory and their faces that kept me going and kept me inspired. No matter what happened next, I would always have them to love, and I was thankful for that. Life was great and hopefully just about to get better!

Highway To Hell

Real life and the Seahawks appeared to be morphing together. The ups and moments of positivity this season have been less prevalent than last year. It was easy riding the wave of good vibes and momentum en route to a Super Bowl championship last year, anybody could have done what I did. It just felt so right. This year though, this year was different. Trips to the doctor, hospital visits for my loved ones, being fired, and things just not bouncing the right way generally. Life has a way of balancing things out and after last year's miracle run, I really can't complain about anything. The phrase, "playing with Hausch money" comes to mind.


Still, the belief that there would be a repeat was strong. Seahawks fans believed it, front office folks believed it, and I'm sure the players did too. There were catchy sayings like "rePete" and who wouldn't want to believe after having witnessed the beauty that was 2013. I especially believed, so much so that I sit here on this flight from Detroit to Seattle to continue to try and witness a Seahawks Super Bowl repeat. It's game day as a matter of fact, and the Seahawks are about to hook it up with the NFC West leading Arizona Cardinals. In all likelihood, a loss here and the chances of another Seahawks Super Bowl were probably sunk.

Nobody said repeating was going to be easy though, and this is the reality that stares us in the face. However, one can't lose sight of the lessons learned along the journey. Even when things don't go your way, especially when they aren't going your way, it's important to find the silver linings. Life's beauty and it's meaning are evident in nearly everything we do. Sometimes, it's more amazing when we fall because then it sets up our opportunity to redeem ourselves. I've always relished the opportunity at redemption in this life because it isn't always guaranteed. 

Despite redemption not being guaranteed, this was exactly the opportunity I was being afforded when the Seahawks traveled to the Midwest to take on their old AFC west foes, the Kansas City Chiefs. Just a few weeks earlier, I had traveled 22 hours on a Greyhound to St. Louis. The Seahawks were taking on the Rams and well, we all know how that ended. An impressive comeback attempt by Seattle that fell just a bit short. Jeff Fisher and the Rams opening up the bag of tricks to pull off the upset. After tasting the bitter taste of defeat I flew back home, a less strenuous 5 hour ride than the 22 hour trek to get there.

It may have been a more manageable trip home, but I couldn't help but feeling that I sold my self short. I could have saved even more money by bussing it home, but I didn't think I'd survive 22 additional hours on a Greyhound home. Especially after a loss, I thought the effects would have been devastating. When it was all said and done though, I was left with regret. Regret for not pushing myself to my limits. Regret for not finding out what I was truly capable of. I had doubted myself, and now I was full of regret. That's the ugly thing about self-doubt. It's a dangerous cycle to fall victim to, and it can be very tough to pull yourself out of it and start believing in yourself again.

Here was the opportunity though, knocking on my door. The Seahawks were traveling back to Missouri. I was still hurting financially, so the bus would be the only mode of transportation that I could afford. This time, I had no choice. Life was deciding for me. I'd be taking a series of busses from Manhattan to KC and there was nothing I could do about it. I embraced this opportunity knowing that not everyone gets a shot at a mulligan and this time, I was. Now hopefully the result of the game would be more pleasant.

What a difference a few days can make. One day you're enjoying an excellent trip with a friend, watching the Seahawks beat said's friend team into submission. A few days later and you're rushing from your job selling pickles on a New York City street corner just to catch a Megabus to Chicago. As I boarded that bus, I had literally no clue what to expect of this upcoming journey. All I knew was that I was ready for whatever life was going to throw at me.

You've got to follow your dreams in life, even if those dreams cross through Toledo. In fact, especially if they cross through Toledo! Penn State, Cleveland, and Chicago were the "bigger" stops along the way, but Toledo was the one I was most excited about. After years of watching the MAC on TV since childhood, I could not believe that I was at the home of the Blue Rockets. What can I say? I'm weird. The bus is pretty empty, so no need for people to be stuffed in together like a can of sardines. 

This 17 hour trip to Chicago would have been your run of the mill bus ride to the Midwest, if not for one man. This man was sitting just two rows behind me. After hearing the man talk to those around him, I could tell that he was a person with a lot on his mind and with a lot to say. A storyteller if you will. Much of my life I've been considered a storyteller as well, so I took interest to the tales he was spinning for our fellow weary travelers.

It wasn't until I heard the man mention his aspirations as a writer that I turned around and took note. He's positive of the fact that he's written a great book, the only thing is he needs someone to publish it. I could definitely relate. I struck up a conversation with him and the rest was history. Within minutes of introducing myself, the man and I were deeply engaged in conversation. He tells me that his name is Castro, only it's not really Castro, that's just a pseudonym of created because of the nature of his business. Castro needs to transfer in Cleveland to a bus headed towards South Bend.

I ask if he's a Notre Dame fan making the trip to watch the Fighting Irish play Northwestern. He replies with a wry smile and a story about his life. Like myself, Castro was born and raised in Queens. Fate had brought us together for a reason, we believed, as we continued to share stories about life, ideas, and the things that made us tick as humans.

After giving me the background details of who he is, Castro finally tells me what's bringing him to South Bend. Cigars, and lots of them. As a matter of fact, he tells me that he hasn't had to work for 2 1/2 years. His routine consists of traveling to Paramus, New Jersey and picking up $366 dollars worth of cigars. He then goes to the biggest football venues of the week and proceeds to sell the cigars individually in the parking lot to partying tailgaters. Shady, sure. Illegal, yeah. However, you've gotta pay the bills and everything else about Castro's character screamed genuinely good human being.

He gets off in Cleveland and we agree to keep in touch. This chance encounter gives me hope that maybe this trip wouldn't be so grueling after all. If there were enough people like 'Castro' along the way, I'd actually enjoy myself rather than dread the hours lost along the way.

I eventually get to Chicago, and it's freezing out. The Windy City earned every bit of it's reputation, but reports were that it was even worse in Kansas City. My layover until my next bus is 12 hours, but I'm too broke to really do anything in Chicago. I wanted to try some alligator sausage per Greg's recommendation, but I stuck with a cream cheese bagel from Dunkin Donuts instead. Besides, after walking around the city for a bit and seeing all of the skyscraper's, I had had enough. It's like New York City and DC had a kid.

Next up was the bus to Kansas City. At first, I had planned on staying awake and writing. With nothing to look at outside though, the desolate non-stop rolling hills literally put me to sleep. I'm one of 10 people on the bus, and I have nearly the entire top deck of the bus to myself. When we arrive in Kansas City 12 hours later, I'm feeling refreshed after all of the sleep I was able to catch up on. 

The first thing that greets me in KC is a power plant with plumes of smoke billowing out from it. It's a classic Americana image, and immediately reminds me of the trip to Indianapolis that Greg and I took last season for the game against the Colts. Unfortunately, Greg was unable to make it to KC this time, which hurt because I knew how badly he had wanted to check out one of the crowned jewel's of the midwest. We had hoped that this and the Chargers game would have been switched around when the schedule's were released, and that we'd be able to catch a game at Kaufmann Stadium. Little did we know what a season the Royals would end up having. That would have been one for the ages.

However, real life matters called and Greg would have to skip out. It was just me getting off at that makeshift bus stop on 3rd Street and Grand. It's my first time seeing snow for the year, as there's an inch or so of the white stuff accumulated on the ground below. I walk in to a random Midwestern diner asking how to get to Arrowhead Stadium. The friendly waitress playfully asks one of the patrons if she should serve me or not, considering my choice of attire. My lime green and navy beanie and matching Seahawks scarf making my allegiances known right from the get-go.

That's the thing about Kansas City though. She was only kidding, and ended up helping me find my way to the next bus stop over on 10th and Main. People in Kansas City might take loud and tough, but underneath it all they're warm and hospitable and want to make a good impression for their underrated city. It's 6:45 AM by the time I get on the bus to Arrowhead, and immediately a dude with dreads starts ragging on me because of my gear. "Hey man, we did you guys a favor! We took care of the Broncos for you in the Super Bowl", I said, as the man starts to laugh hysterically.

''That's my team, dude! I AM a Broncos fan", he retorts, as I start laughing just as hysterically. He says he'd rather not rehash the events of February 2nd, so being a gentleman, I oblige. He starts talking about how the Chiefs are going to take us down because of the power of Arrowhead, although he would love it if the Seahawks proved him wrong. It pains him to have to root for the Seahawks with those wounds still so fresh, but such is life as a fan in the NFL. Before I know it, I'm talking with the entire back of the bus about the game. They're confident in their Chiefs, and I admit that the prospect of Charles, Houston, and Smith having big games is something that worries me.

About an hour later and our bus pulls up to a gas station across from the Kansas City stadiums. I hop off the bus and directly in front of me stands Peter Flores, the head of the Midwest Seahawkers. We catch up for a minute before he asks "you ready to bartend?" I'm beyond thrilled at this point, as I had had a blast bartending at the tailgate prior to the Rams game. I had thought of the possibility of doing it again in KC, but didn't know if my services would be required. Luckily, they were. At one point, there are 15 Seahawks fans in this random gas station, and it's starting to look and feel like some of the road games from last season.

We hop in a white SUV and cross the road to enter the parking lot area. After the quickest tailgate setup in league history, we were up and rolling and ready to serve. Thank god for that propane tank I was parked next to, otherwise the 20 degree weather wouldn't have been fun, at all. I'm pouring drinks and chatting fans of both teams up. The atmosphere is fantastic, as KC's version of Blue Thunder swings by and starts jamming as Seahawks respond by dancing to their beats.

I was devouring some absolutely heavenly KC barbecue, when some familiar face peeked under the tent. It was Leif and James! I scream out a scream of pure happiness, as this mark's Leif's first game of the season. Hopefully this would help with rediscovering the magic of 2013. Leif brings an amazing positive energy to Seahawks games that can not be denied.

Not only was Leif there, but PredatorHawk made an appearance as well. I was making a drink when all of a sudden I got a request for a "Beast Mode." The Beast Mode was the drink of the day, as it had been in St. Louis just a few weeks earlier. This request was special though, as PredatorHawk was the one holding up the cup and I couldn't disappoint.

We continue pre-gaming and just a few minutes before kickoff, a man named Ben comes up to me and offers me an extra ticket. I had purchased a ticket for $20 the day earlier in Section 307, but this ticket was in section 108, which was where the Midwest Seahawkers would be sitting! Luck had smiled upon me once more. The group makes it's way to the stadium entrance, a massive tilt between two 6-3 teams waiting in the offing.

Once inside the stadium, it's apparent that the atmosphere is legit. I had heard the legends of Arrowhead, and they appeared to be real. This is what it was all about. These were the types of day that I lived for. Two great teams, a hostile environment, sprinkle in some great food and pregame antics, and you have a recipe for the perfect "football Sunday."

The game didn't get off to the perfect start, as Paul Richardson fumbles on the opening kickoff. Luckily, Jeron Johnson jumps on top of the ball and danger is averted. The opening drive sags however, and the Seahawks are forced to punt the ball away. It had been 29 games since the Seahawks defense allowed a touchdown on their opponent's opening drive, but that's exactly what happened on this day. Jamaal Charles glides into the end zone after Alex Smith pitches it to him on a perfectly executed option run to the right pylon. It was a crumby start, but no one said winning at Arrowhead was going to be easy.

What's important is that the Seahawks responded. Throughout the day in fact, they did a pretty good job of responding to adversity and to Kansas City scores. After Hustle Wilson marched the lads down the field, he finds Doug Baldwin in the end zone to tie the game at 7. Doug does an excellent job of keeping the play alive with Russell evading pressure, something that has been lacking from the Seahawks receiving core this season. This touchdown showed that this day would be no different from most for the Seahawks under Pete Carroll. The Seahawks were going to be in this game to the very end.

However, the loss of Brandon Mebane in the middle of defense coupled with the continued absence of linebacker Bobby Wagner meant that it was always going to be a long day for the Seahawks defense. Their efforts to contain the Chiefs rushing attack which was spearheaded by Charles, Davis, and Thomas did not go according to plan. Charles especially was effective at reaching the second level and creating missed tackles while picking up chunks of yardage for KC in the process. These critical losses for the Seattle defense would create problems for them all day long.

Still, the Seahawks resiliency was on full display. Despite allowing another Charles touchdown, they answer with a nice drive that continues to eat up yardage as well as clock. Unfortunately, this drive stalls out and the 'Hawks have to settle for a field goal from Hausch. It would be a prelude of things to come.

The Seahawks defense continued to fight on before the half, despite generally being gashed by the Chiefs running game and unable to get consistent pressure on official Seahawks-killer Alex Smith. It looks like the Chiefs are going to put up another score before the half, but Earl Thomas plays hero and forces a fumble from Travis Kelce at around midfield. It's an opportunity for the Seahawks to redeem themselves and get into the end zone before the half, which we know isn't always guaranteed in this life. However, once again the Seahawks offense just can't seem to make that final big play to get themselves into the end zone for 6. Hausch bangs home another gimme, and the Seahawks head to the half down 1 at 14-13.

Leif, James, and I agree that although the team left some points on the board, this was a pretty good start all things considered. Down 1 at the half in one of the league's toughest environments? We all agreed that we'd take it, and that we believed that Russell would lead the Seahawks to victory in the second half. The half is about to end, when our old friend Garret from Super Bowl weekend in New York City last season appears in the corner of my eye. We call him over and he joins are section of 40 or so screaming Seahawks fans.

The game continues on in the second half with Kansas City's offense picking up where they left off in the first. It's become apparent to us in 108 at this point that the 'Hawks just aren't going to be able to stop the Chiefs ground game with all of their injuries. We must outscore Kansas City in this second half if we want the win, the defense won't be able to held them back for too long. They're able to hold KC to a field goal, but the threat that the Chiefs are posing is definitely real. 

This game marked a banner day for Leif and I. It was the first time we actually got to sit together during a game. We had been to countless games together, but never had the chance to sit in the same section. Just two seats apart now, we were finally getting the opportunity. Sitting next to him and James was as much fun as I've had cheering for the Seahawks since last season. We left it all out there in the stands on this day. Not only the three of us, but the rest of the Midwest Seahawkers made Seahawks fans all around the globe proud. Our voices were loud and constant. In fact, we rivaled the noise that Chiefs fans in our section were able to muster up.

I'm sure some are wondering, what about the crowd noise? Is it really louder than the CLink? I'd have to say, no. While I thought it was great that Chiefs fans rarely, if ever, sat down at all during the entire game, that was probably more due to the fact that it was 18 degrees and you might get frozen to your seat if you did try sitting down. Generally, noise wasn't an issue, unless it was 3rd or 4th down. When the CLink is really rocking, it's rocking on every single down. We'll need that kind of non-stop atmosphere for the Cardinals game, that's for sure.

This incredible game of back and forth, old school type football with a focus on the ground game continues to entertain. Once again, it's Earl Thomas saving the Seahawks defense' bacon, this time forcing a fumble by stripping the ball from Jamaal Charles as Charles fights to keep the play alive and get every yard possible. It's Longhorn on Longhorn crime in the Midwest, as Earl's play gives the Seahawks a jolt in the arm they greatly needed.

The Seahawks continue to drive well and pick up yardage, however, they can't seem to punch the ball into the end zone. It's 4th and goal from the Kansas City 2 yard line now, and Seattle is going to go for it. I love the call, but it ends unfavorably for Seattle with Doug Baldwin's plea for pass interference falling upon deaf zebra ears. Our section agrees that it probably was PI, but that the refs will never call it down there in that situation. Funny enough, the league issues an apology on the call just a few days later. Doug wasn't lying. It's all fitting though, as the game was being officiated by Seattle antihero Bill Leavy. He of Super Bowl XL infamy, of course.

And wouldn't you know it? Of course it would be ex-Chief Tony Moeaki who would be on the receiving end of a floater from Hustle in the back of the end zone. The Seahawks were now up 20-17, their first lead of the game. The moxie and perseverance they were showing was truly impressive. It was far from the perfect game on display, but the Seahawks didn't need perfection, just a win would do. 

The Seahawks first lead of the game didn't last for long though. Unfortunately, the Chiefs did what they had been doing all day long, and gashed the Seahawks defense en route to an easy touchdown for Kniles Davis. That momentum swing seemed to take the air out of the defending Champions from Seattle. That, as well as the loss of Center Max Unger. We knew it was bad in 108 when the cart drove out on to the field. We didn't want to speculate on the severity of the injury, but we knew that Max was probably done for the day.

And wouldn't you know it, the loss of Unger would play a vital role in the ending of this game. It's not like the Seahawks didn't have a chance to get even. They continued to move the ball downfield, and Marshawn Lynch continued to be a magician on the field. His performance stood out to me as the best performance of any Seahawk on the day, his unbelievable balance and power making him almost impossible to bring down for KC defenders. Even Marshawn was playing hurt though, his balky back once again making things harder on the big fella than it had to be.

When the Seahawks faced another fourth down at around midfield, we knew that this would probably be the play of the day. We were calling for the Beast in 108, and we got our wish. Only, the outcome wasn't what we had imagined. Stuffed, Dontari Poe and company absolutely throttling JR Sweezy and the Seahawks O-Line. It was another massive defensive stand for the stifling Chiefs defense. We were down, but we weren't out. However, a comeback in the waning minutes of the game in such a tough environment would be extremely tough.

The Seahawks defense did it's part though, and held strong. The ball continued to NOT bounce our way though, as on the ensuing punt a bevy of Chiefs special teamers collaborate on pinning the Seahawks offense deep inside their own 5 yard line.

We're so used to seeing Russell lead this team through the improbable, that I still believed. After all, he had done it once before during his rookie season in Chicago. The 98 yard drive he engineered to force overtime is the stuff of Seahawks lore. That's the game I had on my mind as Russell started his newest comeback effort. This wasn't Chicago though, and it wasn't 2012. Instead, this one ended for Seattle on an incomplete pass to Paul Richardson. It was uneventful, and it hurt. It stung badly.

I tried to not let the defeat get to me it, but for some reason this one hurt so bad. Maybe it was the 33 hour travel just to get there, maybe it was the prospect of 33 hours back home with a fresh, tough loss on my mind. Whatever it was, this one hurt more than most. As people, we want to think that when we believe in something and work hard at it, that it'll work out for us. I was foolish in thinking that my travels would make a difference in the game's outcome, but I had known this all along.

The Midwest Seahawkers gathered in the parking lot before heading back to the hotel. Leif and James bid farewell, a drive back to Minneapolis staring them in the face. Garret and I hitched a ride with Peter and the Seahawkers, but the rest of what happens is a mystery to me. Jameson playing the part of great equalizer. Before I knew it, it was time for me to head to the bus station to catch my ride back home. I think it was Garret who helped get me to the bus station in one piece, only it was the wrong bus station!
I had hit rock bottom. My cab driver drops me off in a random hotel parking lot, right beside my bus home for the night. He tells me that all I have to do is go inside the hotel where the bus driver is staying and wait for him in the lobby. Unfortunately, that's not how things work, but it only cost me $6. A police officer and the hotel receptionist inform me that I'll have to walk to the bus station a little way's away instead. I was lost, the Seahawks had lost, and the trip home was looking brutal. I did the only thing I knew how and called my lady to hear her voice.

She worried for me. She could tell that I wasn't in a great situation. I'll never forget her telling me to get it together and go find my bus home! I'll never forget the worry in her voice and how it made me feel. I took my lady's advice and trekked it to the bus station, not before falling face first on a patch of grass that was missing a divot. I picked myself up, and carried on.

I finally did catch that bus. I was exhausted from the events of the past 3 days and passed out straight through until we made it back to Chicago. My layover wasn't quite this long this time, and as I boarded my noon Greyhound bus home to NYC, I thought that finally the end of this marathon journey was in sight.

I make my way on to the bus and there's a man with a mohawk and tattoos talking to himself. I figure it's no big deal, but then he stands and blocks the aisle way to say "I know you all hate me, please, someone punch me in the face!" The nervous bus riders look around at one another, wondering if they should do anything. He sits back down and everything appears to be okay. Our bus is about to depart, and the man stands once again with the same speech. I think of the 17 hours of travel ahead, and decide that I can't put up with it. I tell the bus driver about the man and she passes the message along to security. Security removes the man from the bus, as it turns out he's schizophrenic and his mother did not show up although she was supposed to be riding with him.

It was a sad turn of events, but it had to be done. A mother with her newborn child thanks me and suddenly everyone is no longer on edge. I look up at the bus number and laugh, #6660 of course. Bus #6660, 66 hours of travel...it was a truly hellacious trip. I spoke too soon though, as the front door to the bus breaks in Indiana. Luckily, we're at a rest stop in the middle of nowhere, but we remain stranded waiting for a repairman for over 2 hours. The repairman finally comes and saves the day and we're on our way, but now I miss my connecting bus in Cleveland.

Luckily, I did, because it was there that I met Andre. Andre was a German traveler who was also traveling on bus #6660. He strikes up a conversation with me and we discuss a wide range of topics varying from Dirk Nowitzki, the universe, Kevin Willis, traveling, and the 1995 Houston Rockets. After I tell him of my Seahawks travels and the struggles they've encountered during their quest for a repeat, he reminds me that it's always harder to repeat than it is to win it the first time. He mentions that, as a big fan of basketball, he remembers the '95 Houston Rockets repeating despite a relatively unsuccessful regular season. They got in as a #6 seed and then proceeded to steamroll the 3, 2, and 1 seeds en route to a convincing finals victory against the Orlando Magic.

Andre inspired me, because I was starting to think that maybe it wasn't the Seahawks year. Maybe it wasn't meant to be and I had misread the tea leaves. Maybe it was time to go home and put this journey on hold and return to my family and my amazingly understanding girlfriend. Faithfully by Journey was playing on my headphones, and it struck a chord with me. It made me think of Laura and everything she had done for me. For the first time during my travels, I had thought about calling it quits. I won't lie.

Andre talked me back from that ledge, reminding me that life can still be beautiful even when you don't win. Even if the Seahawks didn't win, it was still a remarkable story that needed to be told. Life is full of up's and downs. I couldn't get too high, and I couldn't get too low. I had to bounce back and stay the course with the plan.

I finally made it back to New York City on Tuesday afternoon. I was down, but I wasn't out, just like the Seahawks. I had survived the toughest travel of this year and a half long journey to date, but it wasn't about to get any easier. The Cardinals were 9-1 and looking for blood. This season hadn't followed the script, at all, but it wasn't over yet, despite what the bandwagoners who were jumping overboard might think. History was littered with teams who struggled throughout the season, only to sneak into the playoffs, catch fire, and go on to win it all. Why not Seattle this year? Why not us? I headed straight to work after my bus arrived in Manhattan, and I was ready for the stretch run that would ultimately decide the fate of the 2014 Seattle Seahawks.

Mo Injuries Mo Problems

It's only fitting that it would come down to this. With the cyst that reared it's ugly head last season reappearing on the scene, I would have to go under the knife. It was fitting in so many different ways on so many levels. There was the fact that, of all the games to miss, the one against the hometown Giants in Seattle would be quite poetic and doubly hilarious, in a twisted sort of way. All you can do is laugh though. You can't take yourself too seriously, especially when what you do is basically the equivalence of following around Led Zeppelin back in the 70's. They followed the best band of their time around the globe, I sometimes follow the best team in the NFL to St. Louis, Missouri.

Well, maybe it's a little different. It also would have been fitting for me to miss this game due to injury because of all the man-games the Seahawks have lost due to injury this season. However, luckily my buddy Dev had my back, quite literally. I wouldn't have to miss the game due to injury because Docter Dev was going to take care of my cyst and sew it up so that I'd be good as new. I could barely get through the work week with Nicky at the Pickle stand on Carmine, the discomfort from the cyst on my back was getting so bad. Within minutes though, the non-stop annoyance was gone, replaced instead by the feeling of stitches right across your spine.

The procedure wasn't pretty, no, there was blood, puss, and little to no glory. It was necessary though. In a way, it was almost like the Percy Harvin of my body. It had to be removed in order for me to continue forward. Like Percy, the less said about it the better. All there is to say is that if not for an amazing act by an awesome friend, I would have been watching this one at home. Not only did my friend see to it that I was comfortable and relaxed, but he did an outstanding job as well. What could have been a nightmare wasn't, instead I was already thinking about the weekend's travels.

Along this journey I've been lucky enough to experience, my friends have come through for me in ways that I could not have imagined, seemingly always in the clutch. It's monumental to never lose sight of these acts, no matter what twists and turns life takes. They're as big a part of the odyssey as the games or myself, if not bigger. A homeless man in Seattle asked me last season, "do you believe in random acts of kindness?" I answered yes, knowing that if I knew anything, I knew that acts of generosity and kindness still exist all over the globe. Sometimes random, sometimes planned, either way, acts of kindness do exist and it's always been a mission of mine in life to prove it.

Another person who's mission in life, literally, is to be a beacon of civic virtue is my friend, Luis. Big Lou is one of New York's Finest. It is his job to serve and protect, and he puts his life on the line every day just by suiting up and going to work. Lou's also a diehard New York Giants fan and season-ticket holder. The big man bleeds blue, even sporting a tattoo of the Giants classic 'NY' logo on his bicep. While football players put their well being on the line every Sunday and they get paid millions and millions tune in to watch them work, Luis' job doesn't come with that kind of adoration, or price tag. It's not about the money though, and it's definitely not about the fame. It never should be when it comes to that line of work. Frank Serpico would agree with me from his cabin in Harlemville, New York.

Once again, it was a friend who had my back. A week earlier, Lou had booked our flights and hotel to Seattle. He was intent on checking out the game in Seattle with me, whether I had the funds available at the moment or not. Our itinerary was set, and we'd be flying out to Seattle on the morning of the game. That's always a risky decision, but it was our only option with both of us needing to fulfill our various obligations. For Big Lou, it was the graveyard shift. For myself, it was moving from Laura and I's room downstairs to the newly open room upstairs. Our roommates, Becca and Jay, were moving into new digs which meant a bigger room for my lady and I. They leave behind a legacy at our place, and we're left trying to fill their shoes as best as we can. A similar theme to the Seahawks, whose young players have adjusted to trying to fill the shoes of proven leaders past.

In life, and in football, it's a process. Now, the moving process is usually horrendous but with my back in the condition that it was, more help was on the way. Wael and Alex, both good friends of Laura and I, came through to help shuttle things up and down the stairs. I sat there in amazement at the outpouring of support. Just when you think you've seen everything, something else totally unexpected happens and makes you reassess that. As the guys grinded out a thankless task, my body got as much rest as possible before the impending grueling flights out west.

For Luis, it would be his first trip out west, ever. It was an honor that that first time would include a trip to the CLink. The fact that I would be attending as well meant it was an excellent opportunity to see my friend writhe around in discomfort. Our journey begins at 3:20 AM, Sunday morning. Luis picks me up at my place and we're on our way. We head to his place, where he picks up his Giants jersey, and where our buddy Dah-Un meets us to drive us to the airport. Dah-Un, unfortunately for him, was also in attendance at Reliant Stadium last season when the Seahawks came from behind to beat his beloved Texans. I won't lie, I felt bad for Dah-Un on that flight home. Even if the Fireball in my system didn't exactly allow me to display that bit of empathy for my friend.

After getting to the airport and getting through security, we board our flight bound for Sea-Tac. Both of us were exhausted. Our respective schedules and obligations for the week meaning that quality sleep was virtually non-existant. I finally wake up to see that the flight tracker on the TV in front of me says there's 3 hours left to go. Sleeping half of the flight is a win for me, as I'm usually a light sleeper in the air. This was magnified by the fact that my 6'4 1/2" friend's knees had no choice but to invade my leg room. In retrospect, that was the least of our worries. Seated directly in front of us was our own personal nightmare for the remainder of the flight.

No, it wasn't a screaming child or a crying baby. It was far worse. It was a man who had no control over his actions, who's body was being held prisoner. He throttled violently seemingly every few seconds, while Luis and I and the man next to him looked at each other puzzled at first. Were we just asleep and didn't notice this at first? What was wrong with this man? He continued throughout the remainder of the flight, the woman next to him never once telling him to relax or to control himself. What was going on? With every jolt, his chair went crashing back into both mine and Luis' knees. I sat there in discomfort, my back aching, crushed into a corner with a window view with no end in sight. We try zoning out and falling back asleep but our attempts are futile. We were going to have to tough this one out.

Finally, it was too much for Big Lou to bare. With fifteen minutes left in the flight, we tell the man to "please, stop." He turns around to us and reveals an eye covered by a metallic screen. He's obviously just had some sort of surgery on his eye. "I can't", he says, as the reality of the situation sinks in. With the worst of it behind us, it suddenly didn't matter to us anymore. There were more important things. We sat there for the final 15 minutes of the flight, not saying a word to one another. Our plane lands, and despite wanting to kiss the ground like the pope, we refrain and instead head towards the Light Rail to make our way to the game.

Before we could head to the Stadium, or to do any sort of tailgating, we first had to buy our tickets to the game and print them out! I know Luis probably didn't like the idea of heading all the way across the country without tickets in hand, but we needed to find the cheapest tickets possible, and waiting out the secondary market was the best way to ensure that. We find a pair for $110, the lowest that I had seen all week after prices started at nearly $200 on Stubhub. Unfortunately, they get sniped from us just as we pull the trigger. We settle for a pair for $116, still a massive win compared to the $198 tickets I saw in the same section for the same game just days earlier. With our tickets now in hand, we head down to Temple Billiards to kick off the festivities for the day and show my buddy Big Blue Lou, a taste of Seahawk Sunday's in Seattle.

On our way through Pioneer Square, I ask my friend one simple question. "Are you afraid of Marshawn Lynch?" "I'm afraid of no man", he says with added conviction. I tell him that I think his faith is misguided, but that I can't fault him for his approach to life. Upon arrival to Temple, we link up with the usual gameday crew. Todd, Dom, Jordan, Matt, Steve, and a slew of .Netters and those special to them are in attendance and getting properly geared up for yet another crucial game for the home team. Somehow, some way, we were all together again. Just like the Seahawks, we were finally starting to come together at just the right time, or so we could hope. Ryan, a bonafide .Net character if such a thing ever existed, is in attendance and just like Lou, it'll be her first game at CenturyLink. Even more impressive than Lou's milestone, it's her first Seahawks game ever. A battle of the good vibes probably sees her through to victory if the football god's have any sense of justice, rhyme, or reason.

Luis and I toast as we head for the exit's with the rest of those in attendance. The collective mood was optimistic. There was a genuine feeling that perhaps the worst was already behind us. Injuries, poor play, unexpected defeats. That was behind us and there would be more good things to come in the near future. Not to say that everything would be pleasant, no, that wasn't even the case last year when the Seahawks won it all. Just that the team was rounding into form and starting to show the toughness and perseverance that it took to hoist the Lombardi Trophy earlier this year at MetLife. How fitting yet again, as the team standing before the Seahawks as challengers on this day called that same field "home."

Luckily for Luis, he wasn't present last year when the Seahawks intercepted Peyton's brother five times and thumped the Giants. Being the standup guy he is though, he gifted me his two tickets before going away for the weekend. While he was out getting some sun in the Dominican Republic, his team was getting humbled in front of a half-filled stadium by the flock from Seattle. Even worse, half of the half-filled stadium were Seahawks fans. He didn't have to taste the shame of that day, even if I had to taste defeat in front of Luis numerous times before. There was the Giants hellacious destruction of the Seahawks, 44-6 at the Old Meadowlands in 2008. Then, there was me hurrying from my sister's baptism to watch the Seahawks and Charlie Whitehurst get baptized by the GMen by a score of 41-7, at home. Those were some dark days.

Even before then, my first live Seahawks game ended with the Seahawks crumbling late on a frigid day at the Meadowlands back in December of 2001, with Ron Dayne and Kerry Collins helping stun the away team late. I cried that day. A fourteen year old boy crying because Kerry Collins ruined Christmas. To further rub salt in the fresh wounds, the Giants spoiled the kid from Queens' day again the following year with a sloppy 9-6 victory over the team formerly known as the "Seabags." Life is cyclical, and Brandon Browner proved that, albeit in this case almost exactly ten years later. With his memorable interception return for a touchdown to seal the Seahawks improbable road victory at the then-newly named MetLife Stadium in 2011, balance was restored to the universe. After getting abused for four quarters by those around me, I walked out that day with the last laugh, as did every other Seahawks fan in attendance. My friend Luis was just a few seats next to me. He sat stunned, unable to comprehend that his beloved Giants had lost to the team he had seen his team handle numerous times before.

That game marked the swinging of the tide in many ways for Pete Carroll's Seattle Seahawks. It was a massive road victory, at a time when those weren't easy to come by for the Seahawks. The fact that it was a dreaded "10 AM" game made the victory even that much sweeter. You started to see players believe in themselves, no matter the opponent, no matter the circumstances. The Giants ended up winning the Super Bowl that year, despite the unexpected home defeat. Fast forward just three years later, and that same bunch who pulled the upset on that day in October back in 2011 were now Super Bowl champions. A true rags to riches story if there ever was one in the NFL.

Life had now come full circle for us. Both of our teams were Super Bowl champions now, and the Seahawks were the ones who had won the previous two meetings between the two. They entered this one as the favorite's, as Luis and I entered CenturyLink through the North End Zone. It's cloudy with a light myst falling. "Typical Seattle weather" if you were to ask someone from New York City. In fact, it was the perfect weather for the occasion, if I might say so myself. We get to our seats in time for player introductions, just as Luis had hoped. Soon, Capt. Scott Smiley, the first blind active Army officer is getting the crowd revved up as he raises the 12th Man Flag. It's Luis' first time witnessing the tradition, and it's the perfect candidate to raise the flag to show the true spirit of what the flag raising means.

As the action gets underway with a boot from Steven Hauschka, it's finally time to see what all the fuss was about. The cyst removal, the late shifts at work, the grueling flight, it was all in the rearview mirror at this point. The only thing that stood before us was the present. It was time to fully embrace the moment. It was time to live and die with every play. We had traveled too far and long not to. An NFL game can fly by right in front of you if you aren't truly focused. Luckily, both of us had been looking forward to this moment for a long time, so that wasn't a problem. The Seahawks defense fires the first shots of the day with a resounding three-and-out. In fact, it's a perfect double-tap, as the offense takes to the field and quickly marches down it to that magical place they call "pay dirt." It's Marshawn Lynch who gets in to open the scoring, clearly eager to pick up where he left off against his hometown Raiders just a week earlier.

At some point last year I decided that I was going to enter every game with the same mindset. A simple one at that, but I needed it to help me keep things in perspective. I expect every game to be a blood bath. I'll keep hoping for a Seahawks squashing of their opponent, but that's not what I expect. I expect a dog fight every game, especially with the rest of the league giving the team it's best shot every week with the hopes of adding that signature victory to their resume. So even though the Seahawks took an early 7-0 lead, I knew that there would be more plot twists sure to come.

The Seahawks defense answers the call again, and it's up to Russell and the offense to pad the early 7-0 lead. Russell's pass to Paul Richardson on the drive's opening play is read perfectly by Zack Bowman, who jumps the route before Richardson can finish it and snatches the ball for an interception. Eli Manning shows his savvy later on the ensuing Giants drive as he finds Preston Parker in the back of the end zone for a game-tying touchdown. Things get better before they get worse, as Luis now has something to cheer about. Andre Williams puts the final stamp on a Giants mini-comeback of sorts, as he plows forward into the end zone to put the Giants up by seven early on in the second quarter.

Just like last week, the Seahawks had flown out of the gates, but then stalled after some sloppy play. The sloppy play this week included two Russell Wilson interceptions and a Robert Turbin fumble. For the Giants, Odell Beckham Jr. was showing his immense potential, as he found holes in the Seahawks zones and flashed good hands to haul in several tough balls from the Giants quarterback and captain. Things were even sloppy in the stands, as a motley crew of Canadian women seated directly behind Luis and I start joining the ringing chant of "Seahawks." The only problem of course, is that the Seahawks now have the ball on offense! Admittedly, this is their first Seahawks game and NFL game, period, so I decided to help them instead of mock them. I told them that when the Seahawks have the ball, all communications must cease. When the Giants have the ball however, be as loud and obnoxious as you possibly can be!

With that reminder, and with several reminders from other fans around the 300 sections, the crowd slowly began to rise from it's dormant slumber. Almost like clockwork, so did the Seahawks. Marshawn scores his second touchdown of the game to tie the game at 14 in the second quarter. Unfortunately, the Giants got the ball back before the half and were able to march down the field and set up a Josh Brown field goal before the half. I still don't know how quite how I feel about Josh Brown after disowning him upon his move to the division-rival Rams many years ago. His parting comments weren't too classy, either, so he went from being one of my favorite Seahawks to someone I could care less about. It's weird seeing him in a Giants uniform, but I can barely muster up the energy to dislike him if I tried my hardest. Time truly does heal most wounds.

With the Giants leading 17-14 at the half, Luis and I try and walk around the stadium for a quick tour. The lines for the bathroom are outrageous. The lines for beer and food are equally depressing. Even the pathways to walk around the sections are horrendous, so after walking in place for about 10 minutes, we head back to our seats before we miss any action. Giants fans are excited. They high-five each other, chest bump one another, and mention how they're here to pull the upset no one expected. "I see a lot of big blue", Luis yells, as he high-five's a man wearing an Eli Manning jersey just like he is. Once we get back to our seats, I fixate on the fact that the Seahawks are a second half team. Remember Dave, it's not how you start but how you finish.

After a field goal by 'Hausch Money' ties the game at 17, the two teams continue to fight. The Seahawks defense steps up it's game and the halftime adjustments made my the coaching staff appear to have paid off. Odell Beckham Jr. is no longer having his way with the Seahawks zone. The Giants running game is non-existent, despite the massive (pun intended) loss of Brandon Mebane for the Seahawks defense. Conversely, the Seahawks rushing attack is absolutely throttling the boys in blue from the other coast. Marshawn, Russell, even Turbin and Michael start ripping off huge run after huge run. It's almost as if the Giants have never seen the read-option in their lives before. With every first down, the Giants will to win gets crushed further.

The fourth quarter begins, and what ensues is one of the greatest beatdown's in recent memory. Beast Mode continues his utter domination with a 3rd rushing touchdown, and the defense continues to go to work. This is starting to look like patented Seahawks football. Earl Thomas snags his first interception of the season and races towards midfield on the return. Luis is demoralized as the 12th Man is in mass hysteria. At this point, the Giants are done. They have no chance. The Seahawks continue to run at will, and minutes later, Marshawn scores his fourth touchdown of the game! I turn to Luis and tell him that he clearly upset Marshawn by saying that he fears no man, even Beast Mode himself, before the game. We share a laugh, before focusing back on the action because the Seahawks aren't done yet.


I'll spare the gory details, but when it was all said and done the scoreboard read 38-17. Despite Russell Wilson's struggles through the air, and despite a mediocre performance from the defense in the first half, the Seahawks had dominated. Alvin Bailey filled in nicely for James Carpenter at Left Guard, Russell Okung and Max Unger made their impacts felt with their returns to the lineup, and the running game amassed over 350 yards in the finest single game rush performance ever by the Seattle Seahawks. On defense, the boys tightened up the ship after an uninspired first half of play. Kevin Pierre Louis continues to flash his studly potential in limited opportunities, while Jeremy Lane made a return to the lineup, and broke some poor guy on the Giants' leg in the process. Despite a never-ending list of injuries, the 'Hawks still stood at 6-3 and in control of their own destiny, which is all you can ask for in the NFL, especially with so much season left.

As the rain intensifies, we make our way out of the stadium and back to the streets. We head back to Temple to collect our bags that we had left behind the bar, and while we sit and charge phones, a gentleman in the truest sense of the word arrives at our table with a shot for Luis. A kind gesture from a Seahawks fan to an opposing fan that absolutely blows me away. I thank the man for being so cool, and then we realize that we had met each other just a few weeks ago before the Cowboys game! It turns out he was in the Navy, which is funny, because earlier in the day I had told Luis "I don't know what it is, but most of the people I know who were in the Navy are outstanding, generous people." This man had just proven me right, just like Marshawn had minutes earlier with four touchdown's. Luis and I get to know this man and his girlfriend, before we head on over to the J&M.

Now, the reason we were heading to the J&M was because I received a text message from a very special Seahawks fan to come hang out and catch up. Kam Chancellor's brother Cornel, who I met and befriended during last year's magical quest, was hanging out with friends and family who were all wondering where I had been. As we walked through the doors and towards the seating area in the back, my eyes lit up as I saw the people who helped make last season so special. Before I could sit down and catch up though, the drummer from the house band that's a fixture there known as 'James King and the Southsiders' gives me a shoutout over the microphone. Her name is Susan, and we met last year after a game and always made a point to catch up whenever we saw one another. It was our first time crossing paths this year, and Susan went out of her way to make me feel special with a warm welcome over the mic.

Afterwards, I park next to the Chancellor's and we all catch up. Despite his rival colors, the group is nothing but classy to Luis, as they always are. It's the first time we've seen each other since the Seahawks won the Super Bowl, so we relive the memories and good times one more time before we decide that the flight and everything in between have taken it's toll on us. It's time to go to bed. Luis and I walk to the Moore Hotel, our creepy resting place for the evening, and eventually pass out. I rest easy knowing that the Seahawks won, looked good while doing it, are 6-3, and even demolished my friend's favorite team in the process. It was a good day.

The following morning Luis and I catch up at the hotel before making the usual Seattle tourist rounds. After a Dungeness Crab Omelette breakfast, we stroll around Pike Place Market. Luis is definitely impressed, even purchasing some trinkets for his son, along with some teriyaki glazed salmon jerky. Next, it's the Space Needle and an unexpected trip to the EMP museum. Like Luis, this is my first trip to the EMP, and I must admit that I was blown away. Not only is the 'We Are 12' exhibit a really cool toast to the 12th Man and the Seahawks in general, but there's an outstanding horror film exhibit to go along with a great section on Jimi Hendrix. Jimi is one of my inspirations in life, his wild and untamable spirit a true example of how free people should be with themselves and the rest of the world. Forget the pretense.

After the EMP museum, it's over to Dick's for one of the best burgers in town at a classic Seattle institution. We head back down towards the stadium to Temple for one last drink before our flight home. Not before Luis inhales a Japanese gourmet hot dog though. He goes with Andrew Zimmern's favorite, known as 'The Samurai.' How could a chicken apple sausage with delicious traditional Japanese toppings NOT be amazing? So amazing, in fact, that Luis implores me to use my new-found knowledge of street vending at the pickle stand to create my own Japanese gourmet hot dog stand back in New York City.

The closer we get to CenturyLink, the volume starts to amplify. It's a Monday evening but not just any Monday night, no, it's the second leg of the MLS Western Conference semifinals, and the hometown Sounders are welcoming FC Dallas to town. With the score 1-1 after the first leg a week earlier in Dallas, the atmosphere is intense! Supporters gather in the park on Occidental Ave for their traditional march to the stadium. They stand behind their 'Emerald City' banner, as a man with a megaphone inspires the crowd and hypes them up with war cry after war cry. The crowd is electric, but with a schedule to keep, we keep it moving and make our way to Temple.

The place is packed with Sounders fans, not a Dallas supporter in sight. Damon, the doorman, is geared up and ready to go. A very passionate Sounders supporter, Damon had tried his hardest to snag me a ticket. My impending flight made that impossible, but the effort was still greatly appreciated. It appears this "Seattle Freeze" thing that I had told Luis about might have been greatly exaggerated. Luis can't stop mentioning how nice everyone is in Seattle! We finish our last few sips, watch the crowd empty out on their way to the CLink, say our goodbyes, and hit the road.

On our way to the airport, we ponder the future and discuss the possibilities. Things might appear dark now, but there's a light at the end of the tunnel. That light is growing brighter and brighter by the minute. It appears that the worst might be behind the Seahawks. Hopefully, the worst is behind yours truly. We breeze through security before boarding our flight home. A redeye to ensure that I can make it to work a mere four hours after we land at JFK. Again, the trip home is difficult due to the stitches on my back and Luis' long legs, but we make it in tact and with a new great experience under our belts. We part ways, a mere 48 hours after our epic adventure had begun.

On my ride home from the airport, I thought about what had just happened. Yeah, the Seahawks had won and that's always great and that's always the goal, but I couldn't help but look at the bigger picture. I stood where I was, because of the help and generosity of a few brave souls. Laura, Jazz, Juan, Steve, Margaret, Luis, Bart, Melissa, Steven... you get the point. The list goes on and on. To my little sister Chloe, if you ever read this, it's the experiences that make it worthwhile in this life. However, those experiences don't mean anything if you don't have anyone to share them with. This road that I've traveled over the past year and a half has been a lonely one at times, a lonely road filled with amazing experiences and memories. However, it doesn't mean as much to me as the continued love and support from the people I call friends in this life.

Much like the Seahawks, it was time to rise to my feet and thrive. Before you can thrive, you have to survive. The survival part was hopefully now over. The future wasn't too bright though, with a trip back to Missouri in the offing. I had traveled long and far to watch the Seahawks lose to the Rams just a few weeks earlier. After a 22 hour bus ride, I couldn't help but feel bad about "taking the easy way out" and flying home instead of bussing it back. With funds still low, I would get my opportunity at redemption. Funny how life works sometimes. The obstacles never seem to stop coming. Instead of 22 hours, this trip would be 29 hours. The forecast for next weekend? Horrendous. This would be the most difficult trip of the season yet, for myself and for the Seahawks. It was time to see what we're truly made of. The championship spirit never dies, the trick is, can you rediscover it in time before it's too late? There was no more holding back. Like the old slogan's from Seahawks seasons lost, it was now time!