'Du schaffst das schon!'
(You will make it!)
These words, given to me in the form of a note on a small piece of paper by a German man named Andre, on my way back from the Chiefs game, could not have come at a better time. It's funny how sometimes all we need are just a few simple words of encouragement. It doesn't even have to be anything groundbreaking, sometimes all you need to hear is that you're on the right track. Looking back at it, that Chiefs experience was full of people telling me to keep on going, and not to doubt what I had believed so steadfastly in for all this time.
Things had changed since then, dramatically. All for the better of course, much to the chagrin of those who can't wait to see the Seahawks fail. Just 4 weeks later, the team was now 10-4 and appeared to be primed for another legendary stretch run that defied logic and convention.
However, despite officially ending the 49ers season (and perhaps Jim Harbaugh's tenure with the team) and bumping into Beast Mode at Sea-Tac, there were still dark days ahead. All was well within the Seahawks bubble, of course. However, back home in New York City, things were about to go from bad to worse.
December 20th, 2014 was a day that New Yorkers will remember for as long as we're around. I won't forget where I was. LaGuardia Airport was the scene, as I sat watching some unexpected Saturday night football in the form of an Eagles/Redskins game. I sat there awaiting my flight to Philadelphia, when Greg sent me a link containing the news. 2 NYPD officers gunned down in broad daylight, not too far from my home in Brooklyn. Things had already been ugly for weeks, and this was just going to escalate things even further.
Upon hearing the news, my thoughts immediately shifted towards Luis, Greg and I's friend from back in the day who had since started working for the NYPD. Luis is one of the biggest Giants fans on this planet, and had made the trek out to Seattle for the game earlier in the season. Luis is a generous man, a great friend, and an excellent father who is always there for someone when they need it. I tried to imagine the thoughts racing through his mind, but decided against it when I saw myself getting too worked up thinking about the subject.
Luckily, Greg and I were leaving the strife and misery behind, if only for a little while. The desert awaited. It called to us like wolves howling at the moon. Of the road games over the past two seasons, Arizona still remained one of my favorite places that I had visited. Somehow, you just seemed to feel more connected to the earth in Arizona.
The road we traveled was quite an interesting one. We both arrived at Sky Harbor at around 11 PM, except Greg had a stop in Chicago, while my connecting flight was in Philadelphia. I must admit, it was pretty fun watching the Eagles game at the Philly airport. Eagles fans, known for their boisterousness and intensity, were yelling at the television, as Jay Gruden's squad continued along with their upset bid. Airport workers, TSA agents, it didn't matter what their position was, Philly fans were livid and not afraid to let everyone hear about it.
Despite some pre-flight concerns, everything worked out smoothly, as they so often have on this amazing journey. We were now both in Phoenix, the cold, pain, and suffering now in our rear view mirror's. We can both tell that this is going to be a great weekend, as our airport shuttle driver is a pretty cool dude who engages us about where we were coming from and what we were up to in Phoenix. We tell him that we came from New York City to watch the Seahawks play the Cardinals, which usually gets some interesting responses. Most people are usually pretty taken aback when they find out the road Greg and I travel to watch the Seahawks play live.
I guess it does sound pretty crazy on the surface. Two dudes from Queens in New York City, who flock to American cities near and far for a chance to witness a tale of Seahawk greatness. Two weeks ago we were in Philadelphia, and now we were in Phoenix, distance was no obstacle for either of us. Every game, every play, is another chance to bear witness to a legendary moment. A moment etched both in time and Seahawks lore. Having witnessed last season's magical Super Bowl run, we were now playing with Hausch Money.
Like Lazarus, the Seahawks had risen from the dead. Despite having been 6-4, there were still incredible moments and rare feats of Seahawks greatness crammed into each and every game. Whether it be the historic team rushing performance against the New York Giants or the all-time historic performances by Russell Wilson in St. Louis and Washington DC, this team has still been amazing to behold. Earlier in the season, the ball seemed incapable of bouncing the Seahawks way. There was Maxwell's dropped pick six against Dallas and the fumble no-call at St. Louis, among a host of others. Somewhere along the way though, balance had been restored to the universe. Perhaps Kam Chancellor literally provides balance to the universe, with his bare hands, and him being injured earlier in the year had knocked the planet out of alignment.
Whatever it was, be it the football god's or just pure chance, things had turned around. It started in Seattle against these same pesky Cardinals. Back then, which feels like an eternity ago but was less than a month ago, the Cardinals were the hot team in the West and had jumped out to an early lead in the division, surprising many as they continued to pull out tough, gritty win after tough, gritty win. They were now being dubbed "the best coached team in the league", as it gave media pundits and homer fans alike a chance to validate their belief that Pete Carroll isn't the best coach in the league. After all, it was Bruce Arians, not Pete Carroll, who seemed the odds on favorite to win Coach of the Year honors. However, it was Carroll's Seahawks who now seemed more likely to win the game's ultimate crown, the Lombardi Trophy.
I'm sure Pete would be content with that trade off every year for as long as he coached, but success hadn't come easy this season, it was being earned. The truth is, Pete Carroll had done a masterful job of coaching his players and coaches alike, and helping reach a common goal. With the team sitting at 6-4 after a tough road trip to the Midwest, it would have been very easy for this team to have a mini-implosion ala the Niners. Having gotten fat after winning the Super Bowl, it would have been excusable to mail it in the rest of the way. That's how most teams would operate, however, not this resilient bunch. That's just not in their DNA and that all stems back to Pete Carroll and John Schneider.
Not many coaches would have been able to get a group of individuals to rally the way Pete Carroll has with the Seattle Seahawks this season, but it's clear that Pete Carroll isn't like most of the rest and is instead part of the elite group of history's greatest sideline minders. John Schneider, for his troubles, has never won an Executive of the Year award, despite having helped build one of the greatest success stories in NFL history. All of these oversights would have had me seething as a kid, but now, they didn't matter anymore. Life was too short, and opportunities like these were too rare, to get caught up in the slights.
Those slights tend to inspire you and drive you though. Part of what keeps me going is knowing that no one would be surprised if I couldn't continue or if I failed. Just like Richard Sherman wanting to prove that he was better than a 5th Rounder, I wanted to prove that I would not quit. I could not quit. I was physically incapable of it. Being back in Arizona was good for the soul. The hustle and bustle of the city was nowhere to be found, and less than 24 hours remained before the Seahawks would take back their division crown.
Greg and I listen to Mike Francesca rant about Jets GM John Idzik for a while before calling it a night. As per usual, I couldn't get much sleep the night before the game. It was 5:45 AM and I was already awake and ready to go to the stadium. Something about game day gets me psyched up straight to my soul. Sleeping is impossible, I'm like the opposite of Russell Wilson, who gets most of his sleep on the night before games.
Once Greg rose, we took a quick walk around Phoenix to check things out. Much like in Atlanta and Houston, downtown is deserted. A ghost town, the only thing missing being the customary tumbleweeds flying around in the distance. Greg and I were always amazed at city's where downtown is shutdown. The thought of that, coming from New York City, is absolutely preposterous. It was an interesting change of pace and I was definitely down with having the city to ourselves, something that could never happen downtown in New York City. Only at 4 AM, when chances are you don't want the place to yourself.
We get back to the hotel, watch a little bit of the Lions/Bears and Chiefs/Steelers games, and then make our way to the first of what would eventually be three pizza places that we visited in Phoenix. It was a pizza adventure hidden inside of a Seahawks adventure. Every Seahawks adventure should be a pizza adventure, I am sure of this now.
After filling up with a couple of delicious pies, we bought our tickets and waited for a cab to take us to the game. This was one of the few games all season where ticket prices didn't plummet just prior to game time. We waited and waited, but ticket prices never dropped. We would later find out that this was probably due to the fact that there were so many Seahawks fans in town, so there was an extremely high demand for tickets. Either way, no regrets, Greg and I were just considering ourselves lucky to make it to the game.
Our driver, Alex, is a laid back dude from Tuscon. He gets us over to the stadium in no time, and before we know it, we are walking around in a red sea of humanity. Glendale is another one of those places where they just do tailgating right. Last season, Steve and his family and I had tailgated with Jay, a big time Cardinals fan who was super hospitable and friendly. Unfortunately, Steve wasn't able to make it down to Arizona this year, with the hopes that he'll be able to make it down in February for the Super Bowl instead! Despite being disappointed about Steve's absence, Greg and I knew that it was for good reason and that Steve's prophecy would be fulfilled in February.
As we wade our way from tent to tent, one thing is clear. People are ready to party, just as their teams are prepared to battle under the lights in just a few short hours. Greg and I continue wading, until we finally decide to make our way over to Jay and his group in the furthest recesses of the stadium's parking lot. A few cordial words and we were on our way. We wish each other the best of luck, may the best team win, and all that jazz. Jay's a good dude and a great de facto ambassador for the Cardinals as well.
Greg and I decide to make our way to the stadium early, a marked difference from games in San Diego and Philadelphia where we made it to our seats after a few plays had already been ran. We figured that now was a good time to beat the eventual swarms of people, which would no doubt be a nightmare. As we say our temporary goodbyes to the desert abyss around us, with it's red, fiery sunset, we enter one of the league's finest stadiums, in my humble opinion.
University of Phoenix Stadium is both a marvel to look at from outside of the stadium, as well as a technological one for it's rolling grass turf which gets wheeled into and out of the stadium before and after each game. Football on grass is football at it's purest, most beautiful form. I wished that Seattle were able to somehow, someday implement grass, but the odds of that happening were virtually slim to none. With the Sounders also sharing CenturyLink, it was a near certainty that this would never happen.
We walk around the lower deck of the stadium for a while, before bumping into Jay and his crew. We talk about the upcoming game and what we expect to see once things get underway. Jay is confident in his Arizona team that has stunned many this season, however, he does note that Seattle is playing extremely well heading into the game. Another big issue is the injuries to Cardinals QB's Carson Palmer and backup Drew Stanton. Carson was hardly one of the league's elite signal callers, but he was a steady hand whom the Cardinals could rely upon. Stanton was capable of being solid, but not much else, and even he had struggled mightily when the Cardinals got thrashed 19-3 up in Seattle a few weeks prior.
Arizona was turning to Ryan Lindley, who had yet to throw a touchdown in his career in 181 previous passing attempts. Greg and I remembered him well, for his part in the Jets legendary 7-6 win over the Lindley-led Cardinals back in 2012. Greg McElroy was the quarterback for the Jets, and both quarterbacks had equally horrendous performances in a dreary game that few would ever want to remember.
After saying farewell to our friends in enemy colors, we make our way to our seats. For the third time this season, I'm sitting within 2 rows of the back of the stadium. Much like at FedEx Field for the Redskins game, all that separated us from non-existence was a hopefully-sturdy chain link fence. In St. Louis it was at least a concrete wall. Either way, in all 3 instances, our view of the field was actually pretty good and the high altitude made it easier to watch plays develop. It was a stark difference from Section 124 in CenturyLink, which is right there in the heat of battle.
While not taking rally towels upon entrance like the rest of the raucous, blood-thirsty crowd, we did take notice of the amount of Seahawks fans around us. It seemed that everywhere you walked, there were just as many Seahawks fans as Cardinals fans. In the end, I'd say that we were outnumbered, as you should be at an away game. It wasn't quite the record turnout of last season's Thursday night game, but with the Cardinals actually fielding a great team this year, that just meant that more Cardinals fans would actually want to watch this game.
The rally towels are waving and the game is about to get underway. Greg and I are ready, ready to watch the Seahawks take back their division! Luckily, there's two Seahawks fans sitting directly in front of us, wearing Seahawk foam hats, who would be joining us in rooting on the away team. A few seats over, there's a guy wearing a Seahawks fire helmet and 12th Man Flag as a cape, while a young lady a few rows in front of us has a home made set of lime green and blue wings. The stage was set for an excellent football game, as if it were destined or pre-ordained by the cosmos, or the stars in the sky.
My heart sinks as a man wearing a Cardinals jersey, flocked by his lady and their young son, both wearing Cardinals jersey's as well, make their way to their seats. "Wow, I guess I couldn't have done any worse", the man proclaims. For he had gotten him and his family the last seats in the joint. They were directly up against that chain link fence that boisterously marked that you had reached the stadium's last row. He gives his son a hug, and his lady shoots him a scowl, as if to say that this was not the type of gritty experience she were hoping for on a Sunday night at the Cards game. Still, to his credit, the kid was absolutely loving the game and had more heart than 99 percent of the people sitting around us. Most Cardinals fans are laid back and aren't as loud and wild as their rival fans from the Pacific Northwest. They are excellent, polite people who are a blast to tailgate with, but it takes a lot for them to get excited, generally.
The kid continues to bring it as the game starts off with the Seahawks offense stalling out at around midfield. That was the modus operandi for the early part of this game. Outside of Hustle Wilson's career-best 55 yard scamper to end the first quarter, things were looking pretty bleak on offense. To make matters worse, Marshawn had apparently come down with a stomach bug and was working through it on the sidelines. Our buddy Norbert shoots me a text to let me know that all seemed to be alright, as Marshawn was now being seen chomping on some Skittles in an attempt to appease the desert spirits with his own homemade elixir. At one point, I looked to Greg after another Seahawks offensive failure and proclaimed that they might not score a single point on this night. Oh, how I was wrong.
Almost seconds after that proclamation, which was only minutes after Chandler Catanzaro's opening field goal put the Cards up 3-0, the Seahawks opened up my eyes and the eyes of many with a quick, 80 yard strike from Wilson to Willson! Greg, who to his credit never flinched at the sight of the Cardinals defense and remained steadfast in his belief that they could be beat deep, goes nuts as Luke hauls in the pass and takes it the rest of the way for the distance. We wonder aloud where Mike Willson, Luke's father, is and keep on celebrating with the folks in front of us, who were from Yakima, Washington. We botch the high five's and the man lets us know that we're going to have to continue to work on that.
Luckily, we continued to get the chance. It wasn't too much longer before Marshawn re-emerged and further restored balance in the Seahawks universe. His touchdown run to close out the first half was very reminiscent of a similar touchdown he scored against the Giants last season. In fact, this game was starting to look and feel a lot like that game last year, except with an apparent offensive explosion lying in wait. It was the final road game of the season, just like that Giants game last year, and it was at the location of the Super Bowl. A dress rehearsal of sorts. We saw the Seahawks dominate the dress rehearsal last season, were we witnessing history repeating itself?
It certainly felt that way, and with the Seahawks leading 14-3 at the half, we couldn't help but notice the similarities. Still, there was a lot of game left to be played and despite having suffocated Ryan Lindley and the Cardinals offense early, Bruce Arians was well-noted for his halftime adjustments as head coach of the Cardinals. Much like the Super Bowl, we miss the halftime show, as we wander around the stadium, taking in as much as we can. Seahawks fans are everywhere, and they are growing louder and louder. They can feel that victory is within their reach. Their pilgrimage to the desert to pay homage to their living football god's will not all be for naught.
The Cardinals refuse to go away in the third quarter, which is even complete with more rare missed field goals from Hausch Money, who was normally as reliable as they come. One miss was weird enough, but after his second miss Greg and I shoot each other a look as if to say, what the hell's going on here? The Cardinals were hanging around, but to the credit of the Seahawks defense, Ryan Lindley couldn't even begin to attempt to get things on track. He wasn't taking a bunch of sacks, or getting intercepted, but his rushed delivery and release were resulting in inaccurate passes and erratic play in general. Bruce Arians kept dialing up the deep passes, but the Seahawks Legion of Boom were ready for it, taking Cardinals receivers Larry Fitzgerald, John Brown, and Michael Floyd out of the game completely.
However, Floyd finally makes a play for his quarterback, and after another field goal from Chandler Catanzaro, it was just a 14-6 game and the Cardinals were not dead yet.
That wouldn't be true for long. Once again, the Seahawks respond. After an excellent blitz pickup and throw from Hustle to the Willverine, Hustle once again looks to his Canadian tight end and former Toronto Blue Jay, and this time finds Luke for his second touchdown of the game! Greg and I can't believe our eyes, Luke Willson was absolutely going off. Our cheering section goes nuts, and the crowd silences as the fourth quarter gets off to a horrendous start for the folks dubbed the 'Red Sea.'
Lindley was again no match for the Seahawks defense, and not long after, the Seahawks found themselves with possession yet again. Wilson hands off to Lynch in what appears to be your basic Marshawn Lynch style run. He patiently hits the hole before meandering around defenders with the lateral quickness of a crab on sand. Soon, he bursts down the right sideline, as everyone rises from their seats to see the dramatic conclusion of an already great run. As if in a video game, Beast Mode activates and plows through Cardinals defenders Patrick Peterson and Rashad Johnson, before accelerating through another arm tackle at his feet. Now having thrashed nearly the entire defense, he turns his back to the end zone, flies through the air, and pulls his best MJ imitation to cap it off.
The Seahawks fans in attendance are going absolutely insane. We can not believe what we had just witnessed. I had seen the BeastQuake on TV, but to see something similar in person was something that you almost never expected. Once again, something utterly amazing had happened and we had been lucky enough to witness it. Much like New Yorkers will never forget December 20th, 2014, I will never forget December 21st, 2014, either. Minutes later, the stadium is still abuzz. The ensuing challenge due to it being a scoring play and trying to deduce whether or not Marshawn had stepped out of bounds on the play, meant more of an opportunity for Seahawks fans and the Seahawks themselves to revel in the glory of Marshawn Lynch.
Just one week earlier, I had met him in the airport. He seemed so calm, reserved, and focused. Now, one week later, he had laid waste to his opponent with a run so magnificent, that it was sure to be hailed as one of the greatest runs of all-time, instantly. Yet again, Marshawn Lynch, the young man from Oakland, had defied all odds and just kept going when there didn't seem to be a way forward. He would not take no for an answer. He seldom, if ever, does.
With the Cardinals and their fans' spirits broken, the Seahawks cruised to victory. Richard Sherman was the next Seahawk to dazzle with his ability to navigate the sidelines, showing that the Seahawks have an immense understanding of where they are on the field at all times. That type of awareness is often the difference between a few yards here or there and a few inches here or there. In the ultimate game of inches, the value of such understanding of the game and it's field in it's simplest form can not be understated.
Hustle Wilson puts the finishing touches on the flaming dumpster that is the Arizona Cardinals on this evening, as he freezes Alex Okafor with a nasty stutter step, stiff arms him to the turf with ease, and jelly legs Antonio Cromartie on his way in for six. Eli immediately dubs this touchdown, "Frozen", hopefully it sticks. My little sister would finally have a reason to cheer for the Seahawks.
The Seahawks had just released an onslaught. The fourth quarter was Seattle's, 21-0, and all of the air had been let out of the building. Fans head for the exits in droves, down trodden and dejected after what ended up being a humiliating loss. Blown out by 29, at home, in the biggest game of the season. Afterwards, there was only one way to celebrate.
I had remembered that after last season's game, Steve had taken us to an In N Out somewhere around the stadium. We look it up, and decide to make the 2 mile trek just for some quality burgers. We don't have In N Out in New York City, so any chance we get to consume mass amounts of burgers must be seized.
Our walk is an interesting one but along the way we talk about Marshawn's greatness, Pete Carroll's greatness, and everything else that was great about the Seahawks, which at that moment in time was everything. Our quest ends with those heavenly burgers, before we catch a ride with a cabbie named Ryan who believes in enjoy the experiences in life. He tells us that he's from Philly and that he used to go to Eagles games all over the country back when they had McNabb and they were still good. He mentions that you don't know how long your team is going to be good for, so you have to enjoy those experiences when they are good. Greg and I had just been talking about that hours earlier when reminiscing over the NFC Championship Game 11 months earlier.
We hit the sack, like Jordan Hill, with the sounds of the NFL Network ignoring the Seahawks game as if it hadn't happened. I drift away into unconsciousness to proclamations of the greatness of Tony Romo, hardly hearing a word about Hustle Wilson, who had just played arguably the greatest regular season game of his career. Good, I thought, as I faded away into the abyss.
The next morning, Greg and I continued our pizza adventure, before capping it off with the godfather of Phoenix pizza, Pizzeria Bianco. Known as one of the top pizzeria's in the entire country, Pizzeria Bianco lived up to it's immense hype and delivered with a delicious margherita pie, as well as an outstanding pistachio rosemary pie known as the 'Rosa.' Having tasted Phoenix's best pizza, witnessed the Seahawks signature 35-6 win, and having found Beast Mode, our mission was complete. We made our way back to Sky Harbor for our now-delayed flight.
Once we hit the skies, it was lights out, and before we knew it were back in New York City. It was wet outside, and a stark contrast to the desert weather that had been so kind to us for the past few days. Despite it being colder than expected at night time in Arizona, it was still a pleasant sight for sore eyes to see high 60's and 70's on those daily forecasts. We had become accustomed to the low 40's being a beautiful day in New York, and this was a mild winter it seemed.
Greg and I finally parted ways, but not before another outstanding trip was in the books. Good food, good laughs, good times, and a great game. That's the way we draw it up, every time. Rarely does life follow the script, but this time, it seemed to. In truth, we're only saying goodbye to the desert for a little while. It is not farewell. With the Seahawks marching forward, now 11-4 and with full control of their own destiny, home field advantage now even appears to be in sight. It was an amazing turn of events that could hardly be explained. Why waste the words? It needed no explaining.
It was the universe, and she still called the Seattle Seahawks her team of destiny.
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