"I wasn't even looking at the ball, it just ended up in my hands, that's a sign of me living right." - Bruce IrvinYou don't normally see this type of 'universe-controls-all' type of mentality from professional athletes. There's is a world where they control their own destiny. Countless repetitions on the practice field, hours of film study, and a lifetime of hours spent in the weight room are what separate the have's from the have not's. However, things are different in Seattle. You hear newly minted, 4-time All-Pro Earl Thomas III articulating those differences all the time. Love, passion, perseverance, unity, togetherness, all such vital components to life, but so rarely associated with professional football. In Seattle, however, they are imperative to success.
Perhaps that is why the ball seems to bounce Seattle's way, more often than not, especially during "crunch time?" Throughout my own 34 game journey, I too had seen the value of "living right," just as Bruce had, and where greatness might manifest itself for Bruce in the form of the easiest pick six of his career, for me it had manifested itself in the form of things almost always going my way when it came to traveling. Even when I had finally missed a flight two weeks earlier, after the home win against the 'Niners (the first missed flight since Training Camp of 2013, the very beginning of the qwest), the universe had still smiled upon me and gifted me the opportunity to meet Marshawn Lynch on my eventual trip home.
There was something to be said for Bruce Irvin and his idea of living right equating to unexplainable success on the football field. In fact, he had been living right. After a troubled past, Bruce had kept his nose clean for the better part of his tenure with the Seahawks. Some wondered if Pete Carroll and his staff would ever be able to get through to Irvin, but the few doubters that remained probably are all on line to buy #51 jerseys after his latest performance.
When looking at the Seahawks refreshing, positive atmosphere with regards to winning football games, that same name keeps popping up. Pete Carroll, for whom none of this would have ever been possible. The Super Bowl victory, the hope of more in the future, it all starts and ends with the vision that one man had. He's surrounded himself, from coaches down on to players, with the very best in the business and those around him usually become the best at what they do because Pete inspires them to do so. Self-belief and always pushing yourself, or competing as he would say, are the keys to bringing out the best in someone, even if they don't see it themselves, and Pete had become a master of the craft.
It was easy to see that Pete's positive outlook on life had reached deep into the souls of all of his pupils. How else could you explain Bruce Irvin channeling his inner Bruce Lee? I, too, had bought in long before, so I knew where these young men trying to find themselves were coming from. Your past transgressions and who you once were did not matter so much as what you stood for and who you might one day become. Your weaknesses accepted, while your strengths maximized. What the Seahawks were doing in terms of player development, both from a physical and mental standpoint, was something that we could all strive for in our day-to-day lives. Hence, the explosion of Seahawks fans that we've seen over the past few years. How could you not be absolutely enthused with this group of Seahawks?
Things weren't always so bright this season, though, as all will remember, and the fact that we stood at 11-4, needing only a win against the Rams to clinch the division and in all likelihood, home-field advantage, further illustrated the genius work of Pete Carroll and his partner-in-crime, John Schneider. In fact, many had given up on the season after the shocking trade of malcontent receiver, Percy Harvin. I still remember the strife and misery in the moments and days following the trade. Looking back at it now, one can't help but laugh at the massive overreaction on the part of the masses.
And in fact, there were plenty of overreactions from media and Seahawks fans alike. The Marshawn Lynch "saga", the Russell Wilson "black enough" embarrassment, the rush to judgment over the 2013 draft class and their lack of contribution and value, the unexplainable desire of so many Seahawks fans to see Darrell Bevell and Tom Cable fired. Many of these issues and the way fans handled them made an even more difficult season tougher to deal with. Where as last year was a miracle run filled with delightful plot twists at every twist and turn, this season was a test of endurance and commitment. Life had kicked me down, just like it had the Seahawks, and we were faced with two choices.
We could either call it quits, or we could keep going. I'd be lying if I said I hadn't given it thought. After the Chiefs game, things appeared to be at "rock bottom." I say it like that because it can't really be "rock bottom" just months after watching your team win the Super Bowl. Still, such was the belief in the possibility of a RePete in Seattle, that anything short of doing so would have to be classified as a failure, of sorts. At 6-4, people told me to give it up, that it wasn't worth it. In a world where time is money, I had no time, and I had no money, either. I had sacrificed a great deal in order to come that far, and I wasn't going to turn back.
Not only that, but my friends and loved ones had shown me a great deal of support, as well, and I just couldn't stand to let them down. If not for some of the greatest people populating this earth, the whole qwest would have died a long time ago. It would have suffered the demise it was supposed to, logically at least, a dream too immense to be tackled. Not by me, not at that point in time. However, many a miracle had transpired and logic had been overcome by destiny, or so it seemed.
Fittingly enough, as we fast-forwarded through reality, it was the season of the miracle. Greg and I had returned from Arizona feeling victorious, and I was set to spend Christmas with my lady and her family in Cooperstown, New York. Despite the new and interesting places I had been grateful enough to explore over the past two years, Cooperstown still had the most raw beauty. A sleepy town stuck in a simpler era, it's a place where everyone went to get away from the hustle bustle of the city. A place to escape the hectic life that accompanied living in "the big city." With tensions running high back home, I felt especially lucky to have spent as little time in the city as possible, with bookend trips to Phoenix and upstate New York making my week.
Good times were had, gifts were opened, and excellent food most certainly was devoured. Still, I was unfortunately in need of a Christmas miracle. With not enough money, or flyer miles, to make a trip to Seattle for the season's final game, I was staring at the prospect of having my consecutive games streak end at 34. It wasn't the ideal situation, but I had no choice but to keep my head held high after such an amazing run that saw me catch so many breaks. By Christmas Day, I was at peace with whatever was going to happen, and continued to focus on enjoying my time with my lady and her family.
That's when I received my very own Christmas miracle, in a year filled with good deeds. I had been chatting with an old friend of mine, Norbert, exchanging holiday pleasantries while also catching up. I was telling him about my situation and he told me to keep the streak going, and that he would front me the ticket out west. This wasn't the first time that Norbert had helped me out in the past, and despite not getting to hang out as much as time has worn on, he's still remained the class act that he always was, and most certainly always will be. My lady gives me a huge hug and kiss, knowing what this gesture meant to me.
After spending Friday at the pickle stand, grinding out another tough shift in the freezing cold temperatures, it was time to make my somewhat-weekly pilgrimage to my home away from home. The only way I was able to even find a flight out to Seattle, was by taking the road less traveled. From LaGuardia to Philadelphia on to Dallas Fort Worth and then finally reaching Seattle, it was a day slated for 14 1/2 hours of travel and four different airports. I had become accustomed to travel, and flying especially, but even this was a tall task. Luckily, my living right manifested itself in the form of some more luck from the aeronautical God's.
Once in Philly, my flight to Dallas had been delayed for 10 minutes. Normally, that wouldn't make even the most impatient of travelers flinch, let alone someone who has had to endure 66 hour bus rides like I had during the year. This was different, however, because I only had a 40 minute layover in Dallas. With a 10 minute delay, at least, that was now only 30 minutes to connect flights. Knowing how insanely large everything is in Texas, especially DFW airport, I knew that the odds of me making the night's final flight to Seattle weren't too good. I decided to speak up and tell a representative about my situation.
I'm glad I did, as within minutes a hero working for American Airlines named Peter, saved the day. He was able to get me on a direct flight from Philadelphia to Seattle, instead, which meant that I wouldn't have to worry about missed connections and the ensuing, inevitable headaches. Once I got to the gate of the flight, I was told that I was placed on standby and that I would only get to fly out if another traveler missed their flight. Having just missed a flight a few weeks earlier, I knew how awful that would be for that poor person, but also knew that whatever was going to happen was going to happen, and that I couldn't concern myself with the specifics. Marshawn Lynch does not worry about the well being of would-be tacklers, no, he simply runs through them without second thought, because that is what he must do.
In typical Philly fashion, the woman working the US Airways customer service desk, where my new flight was scheduled, guaranteed me that I would make it on to the flight. There were other connecting flights that wouldn't make it in time, and one seat would open up for me. I was skeptical at first, but her insistence on placing a financial wager with me helped let me know that she meant business, like most people in Philadelphia do.
She was right, though, I have to give her credit for that, and after waiting for about an hour or so, I was off on my flight to Seattle. As luck had it, or destiny perhaps, I was given seat 12C. There was that number again, even if you weren't into numerology, you couldn't deny the consequences over the past two seasons regarding that special number. The flight's a smooth one, smooth as Marshawn's cutback ability, and before I knew it, I was in Seattle two hours earlier than expected.
This was perfect, as Steve was playing the drums for his band, Nowhere Near Nashville. Originally, I wasn't sure if I'd be able to make the show, but my new itinerary meant that I'd make it there with time to spare. Christmas, the Seahawks, and Steve are all synonymous to me, as it was Steve and his lovely wife Jackie who allowed me to crash at their place for Christmas last year. The Seahawks were looking at two home games to close out the season, and with holiday flights being insanely expensive, I was going to have to stay in Seattle for the holidays. Steve took me in, and helped me complete another major step in my qwest to watch the Seahawks win their first-ever Super Bowl.
I was getting a serious case of deja vu as I walked to the Sea-Tac exits, when I suddenly bumped into an old friend of mine, Jamila, from Carlow East! We hadn't seen each other in ages, so it was great to get to catch up, before she had to head off for her flight back to the east coast. While speaking with Jamila, a friend of a former co-worker also bumped into me, and it was then that I knew that this was all meant to be. I had been met with support immediately upon arriving back in Seattle. I had worried about whether I would even make it out for this week's game, and now things were unfolding in a manor that made my worries seem ridiculous. It was as if the universe were the Seahawks defense during a pregame huddle, yelling "we got yo back!" at me, directly in my face, if I didn't somehow know already after 2 years of it's fervent support.
After my chance encounters with some familiar faces, I make my way to the Little Red Hen, in Northern Seattle. The place is a mob scene, as the first thing new visitors are greeted with is the sight of a packed dance floor, with men in cowboy hat's spinning and twirling their dames around the confined wooden space. Nowhere Near Nashville are driving the crowd wild, as the dance floor remains packed. I make my way to the bar and buy a Rainier for $3 just to quench my thirst. I make the mistake of walking across the dance floor with my bar, and to my seat in the corner, where Steve's wife and other band members' ladies are waiting. It's clearly a mistake because an elderly gentleman in a cowboy hat and long, grey beard comes up to me and grabs me and escorts me off the dance floor. "Get that drink off the dance floor!", he yells. I listen, and keep it moving, having considered it a valuable life lesson learned.
As I sit there talking with Jackie and company, my mind drifts towards back home. My lady loves country music, and I can't help but think about how much she would love this little piece of real-estate. I try not to let it get me down, and I continue enjoying the moment. I catch the final 2 hours of an impressive 4 hour set, before helping Steve break up his equipment and pack it in his van. It was just like last year, only with a different band, as I had roadied for Steve around Christmas time last year as well. Regardless of the band that surrounded him, Steve was the consummate professional and a fantastic drummer. It was an honor to be his roadie. His fellow band members razz him about being so big-time that he called in a roadie from New York City. We share some laughs with the rest of the band and the cool bouncer, Shorty, before making the trek back to Arlington.
I was a long way from home, but Steve's place always feels like home. It's about 3 AM, but neither of us can get to bed because Steve is reminiscing about a game from back in 1979. It was the Rams visiting the Seahawks, and Steve had won a contest at his job that meant he would get tickets to the game at the Kingdome, as well as being taken around Seattle in a stretch limo. It was the type of promotional giveaway that you seldom see nowadays, with company's getting stingier and stingier with their prizes.
It was a banner day for Steve, who had earned his free ticket with some hard work over the previous quarter year. He had outsold his competition and his fellow workers, and would be repaid with a glorious day of Seahawks football. Only, it was hardly glorious. In fact, it would go down as a day of infamy for the Seattle Seahawks. It was a day where they had their worst offensive output of all-time, even to this day, with a total of -7 total yards on offense. Steve explains the scene and how pathetic it all was. If the Seahawks made the Broncos look like pop warner kids during Super Bowl XLVIII, then the Rams made the Seahawks look like infants playing against NFL legends, that's how great the disparity was.
Still, despite the horror story, it all ended with a laugh from the both of us as we retired to our beds. That's the luxury we had suddenly been afforded, now that the Seahawks were the greatest team in the NFL. You can look back and look at some of your most painful memories, even, and still give a smirk or a laugh, because all that pain was in the past, and all that mattered was the present and the future. Our present, and our future, were exceedingly bright. Brighter than they had ever been before.
I woke up earlier than I probably should, as always with my Sunday pregame ritual. I sat in bed, awake, staring at the ceiling, imaging what might unfold at the CLink in just a few short hours. Steve rises from his slumber, and we continue our Seahawks talk from the night before, while also reflecting on times past, like when Steve was driving me to the airport in Phoenix the morning after the Seahawks victory over the Cardinals on Thursday night football. I had the earliest flight out of Sky Harbor, and Steve was a trooper for taking me, but I almost had some issues because we drove past the airport. We were so wrapped up in Seahawks talk that we had driven clean past the airport, a sign of how strong our Seahawks bond of brotherhood truly was.
Soon though, after Steve whips us up a stellar breakfast, and after the coffee is slurped down, it was time for the Seahawks final act of 2014. A year so great, for the Seahawks, that it was highlighted by the winning of their first Super Bowl in team history. Now, with New Years looming, it was the year's final performance, against a St. Louis Rams team that had nothing to lose. Sitting at 6-9, and with another disappointing season under Jeff Fisher's belt, and having already beaten the Seahawks earlier in the season, this was the exact type of team that you don't want to play at the end of the season. Divisional rivals no less? On top of that, the Rams were a team with an outstanding defensive line, while the Seahawks offensive line was tattered and torn with injuries, you could see why more than a few Seahawks fans were worried walking into this one.
Steve hands me my ticket, which he has gifted me due to his son Zack being unable to attend, and with that, my Christmas miracle was officially complete. I wondered, was it possible that I was the luckiest person of all-time? Earl Thomas' intense gaze graces the ticket, a fitting player to be honored on the final game's ticket having been the glue that kept this team together during it's darkest times a few months back. We drive to the 512 bus, where we board and embark on our voyage down south to the CLink.
Not a minute goes by on that bus where Steve and I aren't talking Seahawks football. Names like Whitehurst, Herrera, Doornink, and Watters pollute our neighbors' airwaves, as our collective energy continues to grow as we get closer and closer to downtown Seattle. Soon, the entire bus is packed with blue and green clad fans, all with the same mission at hand. We deboard at Jackson and 5th and make our way over to our favorite local watering hole, Temple, for Steve and I's ritualistic pregame bloody mary, complete with a glorious sprig of pickled asparagus. Downstairs, we meet up with Todd, Eli, Dom, Jennifer, Cindy, and all the usual cast of characters who were all, in one way or another, brought together by Seahawks.Net.
The feeling in the air is that of anticipation and excitement. It's different from last year, as the Seahawks were limping into the season finale with the Rams after a tough loss, at home, against the Cardinals that had many Seattleites wondering if their team was cut out to win the Super Bowl that so many had envisioned for the month's leading up to that point. The rest, as they say, is history, and the Seahawks defeated the Rams en route to an amazing Super Bowl victory in New Jersey just weeks later. Now, a year later, Seahawks fans were generally relaxed and excited at the prospect of repeating what they had done just a year earlier. Much like the players who had practiced the preachings of Pete Carroll, constantly being reminded that embracing the big moment was in this team's DNA, fans expected victory. It wasn't a sign of cockiness and disrespect towards the Rams so much as it was a sign of immense confidence in the home side.
It's about a half hour until game time, so our crew begins the march towards the CLink. We've done it so many times now, we could practically do it blindfolded. Steve and I take our usual detour, and pick up some hot dogs prior to entering the stadium. Positioned directly outside of the North End Zone entrance, Joe's Grilled Gourmet Dogs are some of the best I've ever had in my entire life. I opt for the Thomas Dog, in honor of the man who's face is gracing the game ticket, which is white brockwurst, adding cream cheese and sauteed onions to the mix. Steve opts for a Largent, which is fitting, with the premium kosher polish dog being respect to my buddy Norbert, who's Polish, having made this all possible.
We devour our pregame meal before finally heading in to the stadium through Touchdown City. I don't want to give away the secret, but that's the quickest way to the seats that I've ever encountered. The line is usually pretty small, and you get through quick and in a hurry. Now that the cat's out of the bag, Steve and I make our way to his charter seats in section 133. We enter the crowd, just as the Seahawks are making their entrance to the field. It seems like the music that is blaring, is blaring for us, and that the crowd is cheering for our entrance. Visions of grandeur now behind us, we join our fellow blue and green clad brethren in welcoming these living legends to their coliseum.
After George Karl gets the honor of raising the 12th Man Flag, the crowd is in a frenzy and ready for blood. Hausch Money gets the game underway with a booming kickoff that prevents the Rams from making a return. It only takes one play for me to remember how much I love the view from section 133. Shaun Hill passes to the flats, where St. Louis Tight End Cory Harkey attempts a nifty one-handed grab. He almost completes the task, except that he's met by Kam Chancellor in the open field, who greets him with a thunderous hit that I could see unfolding before Hill even releases the pass. This is the advantage of sitting eye level with the playing field, I thought. Two plays later, the Rams are forced to punt after Earl Thomas stops the Rams a yard short of converting a 3rd and long. There's no trick plays this time, from Jeff Fisher and his men, as Johnny Hekker booms the first of many great punts from him on the day.
However, things wouldn't be as easy as some of us originally thought.
As expected, the Rams defensive line presented problems for the Seahawks banged up OLine from the Seahawks first snap on offense. Aaron Donald immediately flashed his outstanding interior ability, knifing through two Seahawks linemen before erasing a couple of plays in the backfield. The 'Hawks don't do much with their opening offensive possession, and it isn't long before the Rams offense are back on the field.
Shockingly, Shaun Hill looks like a somewhat capable NFL quarterback, marching the Rams down the field despite David vs. Goliath type odds. Yes, the Rams had beaten the Seahawks 28-26 back in October. Please, let's not rehash the gory details. Living it was already bad enough. Trick plays and botched calls by the refs had made for a nightmare-type scenario under the Gateway Arch. However, the Seahawks that were on the field at this moment in time were far cohesive and superior to the unit that graced the Edward Jones Dome turf with their presence two months prior. Still, despite handing the Seahawks one of only 4 losses on the season, they faced long odds in this one with Shaun Hill at the helm and the Seahawks only needing a victory to win another NFC West crown, as well as virtually lock up the #1 seed in the NFC in the process, barring an improbable tie in the Lions/Packers game taking place simultaneously in Wisconsin.
A respectable drive nets the Rams a field goal, and with that, the opening salvo is fired. Greg "The Leg" Zuerlein, which is a much better nickname than "Legatron", puts St. Louis up 3-0, then boots a kickoff to Paul Richardson, who returns the kick to the Seahawks 30. The 32 yard return marks one of PRich's better kick returns on the season, and the Seahawks are set up with decent field position. However, despite an impressive 14 yard run from Bobby Turbo, who continued to spell Marshawn early (in order to keep teams off balance and keep Marshawn fresh for the playoffs), the drive comes up empty. A risky decision (one that I like) to go for it on 4th and 5 comes up just a yard short. Luke does well to make the catch near the sticks, but fails to reach the ball over the first down marker. Section 133 let's out a collective groan and the Seahawks defense is shuffling back on to the field.
Jokes about the metric system ensue, as the defense trots back out on to the field. They answer their offense's call, and come to the rescue with a 3 and out. Before the game, I joked with Steve about Bryan Walters scoring on a 65 yard touchdown, and how that would make my day. It doesn't happen on this punt, though, and the Seahawks offense makes another cameo. Only, despite moving the ball decently and getting into St. Louis territory, they could not close out the drive. Instead, Hustle Wilson steps up in the pocket and tries to make a play on the move, but gets laid out midthrow and has the throw sail on him and over PRich's head for a fairly easy interception for Rams defender Marcus Roberson. The Rams are ecstatic, while 133 let's out another groan of agony.
Despite great field position, starting at their own 40, nothing materializes on the ensuing drive for the Rams. However, the Rams have a weapon and the Seahawks know him all too well, and his name is Johnny Hekker. He pins Seattle at their own 10 with another beauty of a punt.
Things quickly go from not great to worse, as Beast fumbles on the 2nd play of the drive, despite a nice effort and a near-solid run. Instead, the ball gets punched out from behind just before Marshawn hits the turf, and the Rams once again have excellent field position. This time, they capitalize. Despite a useless drive that nets them a total of 0 yards, "Greg the Leg" comes to the rescue, launching a 52 yarder that goes straight down the pipe.
It's 6-0 Rams midway through the 2nd quarter, and fans are beginning to get restless. I figure that people must have forgotten games against St. Louis last season, or the Tampa Bay game, or the Houston game, or the Tennessee game, the list goes on and on. It wasn't as pretty as the 16-3 final record, or the 43-8 Super Bowl victory over the Broncos might indicate. There were definitely close calls along the way. I chalk it up to human nature and try not to think about it too much.
The 'Hawks appeared to be getting something going on offense, as Marshawn was now firmly entrenched in the game, ripping off big gains, and gashing the Rams for chunks at a time. On 3rd and 1, Hustle Wilson fumbles and can only fall on the ball and recover the fumble behind the line of scrimmage. If there's one thing I've noticed, it's that Russell always does a great job of jumping on top of the loose ball and securing the fumble recovery. You just can't teach that.
The half ends with the team trading possessions and with both coming up empty handed. The Seahawks are down 6-0 to a spunky Rams team who are playing far more disciplined ball since they had ever in the past. No doubt, they knew that the league was watching them after their brawl against the Giants a week earlier, so Jeff Fisher's guys were on their best behavior. It made for a better game than most against the Rams, and they were actually looking like a fairly capable football team. Still, despite the score, and the balance of play to that point, Steve and I aren't worried. Most of the folks around me don't seem to be too worried. They had seen this script before. It felt like another one of those games that was destined to be a tale of two halves.
The second half is set to begin and you can feel the sense of urgency start to pick up within the crowd. The kickoff results in a touchback, so Hustle and the boys set up shop at the 20 yard line. My favorite thing about Section 133, is that they never sit down. On offense, and on defense, we were always standing. That's my favorite way to watch a football game, too. I never was one for being able to sit and watch. Call it insanity, call it whatever it is, I just feel more comfortable watching a game when I'm standing.
You get the feeling that the Seahawks need a big play, or a spark, something, anything, to get them going in the right direction. That spark comes in the form of Paul Richardson, as Russell lofts a ball in the direction of the Seahawks emerging rookie wideout deep down the left sideline. With Janoris Jenkins mistiming his jump and fading away from the ball, PRich is able to swoop in front of Jenkins and pluck the ball from the sky before Jenkins can recover and swat the ball away. It's a 32 yard reception for #10, and probably the biggest play of his young Seahawks career. However, the drive ultimately stalls out after Luke Willson drops a critical 3rd down conversion.
Hausch Money gets a chance to get things corrected before the playoffs, and he starts the road to recovery with a 42 yarder that's true through the uprights. The Seahawks are finally on the board, now only trailing St. Louis, 6-3.
I still remember being at the draft the year that Kevin Williams went pro, back in 2003. My friends and I always used to go to the draft back in the day, as we were the ultimate loser's that Bill Burr talks about in his new comedy special, 'I'm Sorry You Feel That Way.' Looking back on it, it was a pretty decent draft class. The Seahawks ended up with Wazzu corner Marcus Trufant, and if I must confess, I was hoping they would draft Penn State Defensive Tackle Jimmy Kennedy instead. In my defense, I hadn't attended Washington State University yet, which no doubt would have changed things. Although there were some pretty epic draft busts in the class including Kennedy, such as Dewayne Robertson, Kyle Boller, Charles Rogers, and Johnathan Sullivan, there were some great players that came out of that class as well.
Kevin Williams was one of them, along with the likes of Troy Polamalu, Terrell Suggs, Jordan Gross, Trufant, Andre Johnson, Dallas Clark, Larry Johnson (for a little while), Carson Palmer (okay, not great, but definitely serviceable at times, which probably isn't what you'd hope for from the draft's #1 pick), Nnamdi Asomugha (again, for a little while, at least), Anquan Boldin, Osi Umenyiora, Lance Briggs, just to name a few.
Landing Kevin Williams was a pipe dream for Seattle back in in the '03 draft, but he was a player that you just knew could have helped Seattle turn things around defensively. He was quick, strong, and agile for the position, and had made a habit of wreaking havoc on the opposition's backfield in college at Oklahoma State. It was no surprise to me that he ended up dominating for nearly a decade with the Minnesota Vikings. When he signed with the Seahawks this past offseason, I was ecstatic. It was the same way I felt about Michael Bennett coming back to Seattle last season.
Now 34, and a bit past his prime, Williams was trying as best he could to imitate injured DT Brandon Mebane. Clogging up running lanes, occupying blockers, and eating up space so that Seattle's other playmakers on defense could reap the benefits. He was no longer the younger, more spry version of himself, but Williams was beginning to come on late in the season. He had taken to his new role, and along with the unheralded Tony McDaniel, and 2013 draft class sensation Jordan Hill, the three formed together to give Seattle a menacing bunch along the interior of defense.
The dream that I had in the back of my mind, that one day Kevin Williams would play for the Seahawks, had been made a reality. That's why it was so great to see him start the Rams first drive of the second half with a sack of Shaun Hill! The crowd loves it, as Williams stellar play continues. The Rams continue to go nowhere, before sending out Hekker once more to unleash a 55 yard torpedo to erase poor field position.
The Seahawks offense gets back to work and quickly starts to establish their presence. The Rams secondary gets gashed for big gains on back to back plays, as PRich and Tony Moeaki find soft spots in the defense on the right side of the field. Richardson's big gain is especially big because it comes on 3rd and 2, while Moeaki's is big because it chews up 21 yards and gets Seattle within field goal range. That's about as close as they would get though, and Hausch Money bangs home a 45 yarder to tie things up at 6.
At this point, the crowd is worked into a frenzy. The Seahawks are on the verge of taking over the game, and with it, sealing the NFC West division crown, as well as the #1 seed for all intents and purposes. Highlights from around the league flash across the jumbotron's, but few actually care. Everyone is so focused on what's about to occur on the field of play to care about what's happening elsewhere.
Despite having struggled on offense for most of the game, the Rams had occasionally shown signs of life. Shaun Hill wasn't absolutely horrendous, however, their running game was getting stuffed. A 9 play, 49 yard drive takes up 4 minutes and 54 seconds and sees us through to the fourth quarter. However, the game's final quarter begins with catastrophe for St. Louis.
The Rams should have known that disaster was on the brink. As the 4th quarter gets underway, a flock of seagulls starts to fly above the South End Zone. It's a large gathering of birds and one that should have had the Rams wondering what they had done to the football god's to deserve such a fate.
On the quarters first play, Shaun Hill looks like he was trying to throw the ball away on a screen pass that had been detected and blown up by Seattle's vaunted defense. Instead, Hill continued his remarkable progress as this year's version of Clinton McDonald, with a nifty diving interception and 8 yard run back that included a hurdle. DT interceptions are the greatest kind of interceptions. There's nothing like seeing a 300 plus pound man show amazing athletic ability, defy logic and gravity, and then rumble down field in an attempt to display even more athleticism. As their jolly rolls jiggle, we can only bare witness to this phenomenon and consider ourselves truly lucky.
It's Hill-on-Hill crime, and it helps set up the Seahawks ensuing scoring drive. A broken coverage by Janoris Jenkins, who seems to have some pretty bad games against the Seahawks, gifts Kevin Norwood a 31 yard reception that sets up the Seahawks with 1st and goal from the Rams 9 yard line. They cash it in on the very next play, as the Seahawks Offensive Line eviscerates the Rams defense, and Marshawn slashes his way through the seams and into the beautiful blue end zones for 6. Beast glares back at the Rams chippy, aggressive defense with a look of disdain, before turning to shake the hands of the offensive linemen who partially helped to make his touchdown run possible.
It's 13-6 now, and the Rams try and answer the Seahawks second half surge with a scoring drive of their own. Bruce Irvin seals the edge on a run and makes the stop, and I turn to Steve and mention how lights out Bruce has been playing. It seems like just two plays later when Bobby Wagner channels his inner Bruce Lee, one inch punches the ball from the hands of a Rams receiver, right in to the not-even-waiting hands of Bruce Irvin. Irvin blazes down the sideline untouched for the easiest touchdown of his career, and the second touchdown of his career. Coincidentally enough, the last time Bruce scored a touchdown was on an interception of Derek Carr and the Raiders. I just so happened to be sitting in the same exact seat as I was on this fine December day.
The crowd is in a state of jubilation. The defense celebrates in the end zone, as fans do the same in the stands. All of the early season struggles, the phony reports by the media, the Harvin drama, all of that didn't seem to matter anymore. In fact, it had only made us stronger. It had only made this moment even sweeter. That's the funny thing about life. You get what you need, not what you want.
Proof that Bruce Irvin was indeed, living right, and 6 more points on the scoreboard. Hausch Money slots in the extra point, and it's suddenly 20-6, Seahawks. Just like that, in the blink of an eye, Pete Carroll's group of men had turned things around. They had taken it one step further and turned the game on it's head.
Nothing personifies the Seattle Seahawks like the play that ended the ensuing Rams drive. With Seattle playing off-coverage on St. Louis' receivers in an effort to keep the clock running by allowing short to intermediate receptions, Shaun Hill was able to lead the offense down the field. A 10 play, 74 yard drive sees the Rams on the brink of scoring, and it appeared that that's what they had done on 3rd and Goal from the Seattle 6 yard line. Hill finds Bennie Cunningham in the flat, and Cunningham makes the grab, turning upfield to head for the end zone. He gets to the 1 yard line before attempting to extend the ball across the goal line for the touchdown. Seemingly from out of nowhere, ET comes flying in with his own Bruce Lee impersonation, judo chopping the ball out of Cunningham's hands, into the endzone, and out the side of the endzone for a touchback! It's an amazing play that shows that Earl Thomas is the master of his domain.
The remarkable play makes me think of the Seahawks and how they are almost like the Shaolin Munks of football. Two times last week, I had been in awe of their understanding and controlling of every inch of the football field. Both Marshawn and Sherm had tip-toed down the sideline, getting as close to the sideline as possible, without stepping out of bounds. Now this week, Earl Thomas had saved a certain touchdown score by karate chopping the ball from his opponent just a yard from the goal line.
The Rams were done after that. Their final attempt to muster up an upset had fallen just inches short. It must have been a strange yet familiar feeling for Rams Head Coach Jeff Fisher, who knew the feeling well from his time with the Tennessee Titans, as they were stopped just a yard shy of the goal line on the game's final play in their Super Bowl loss to, ironically, the St. Louis Rams. If you can't beat 'em, join 'em, I guess, however Fisher's future with the Rams now didn't seem as certain as when the day had started.
Seahawks fans could now rejoice, as the Seahawks were victorious, 20-6. The jumbotron flashes to the Detroit/Green Bay game, where the Packers had emerged victorious, meaning that Seattle had clinched the #1 seed in the NFC. Section 133 is high fives all around, as Steve and I hug in celebration of such a great turn of events. Somehow, the team that was left for dead by most at 6-4, had turned things around and made believers out of everyone. A murderer's row of games down the stretch, 6 to be exact, that were supposed to make or break this team (break, if national media pundits were to be believed) had not just made them, it defined them. This brutal stretch of games instead helped forge a bond within this team so strong, that most around the country are wondering, who can beat the Seahawks now?
The fact was, the Seattle Seahawks, against all odds, were NFC West Champions once again.
We stand in our seats for a minute after the game, as I thank Steve for everything he had done. We finally make our way out of CenturyLink, as Blue Thunder plays and marches away. The crowd is in a festive mood, and the rain from earlier has subsided by now.
After the game, I hang with Eli and his buddy, as well as Steve, as we talk about what the future looks like for the 'Hawks. The four of us are in a start of euphoria, as we think of the limitless potential of our beloved football team. I tell them of the story from just a few weeks ago, when I had gone to get ramen noodles at a restaurant near our house in Brooklyn named, Chuko. The line to Chuko was insane, so Laura and I went to a bar across the street to pass the time on the hour and a half wait. While we were there, we figured we might as well play Bingo along with the rest of the bar, and before I knew it, I had already one once. My prize was a hockey goalie's mask with a magnet and a bottle opener built in to it, so it was obvious that we were playing for pride, not for prizes.
Another woman had won for the second time, so after 3 rounds, there had been only 2 different winners. That's when I decided to channel my positive energy. I normally had had terrible luck throughout my life with things like bingo, the lottery, gambling, etc. however something felt different about this night on Vanderbilt Avenue. I decide to have fun with it, and before I knew it, I had won my 2nd round of Bingo. I looked to my lady and told her that I was going to win 3, just like I've always thought the Seahawks would. The man next to me is an admitted compulsive gambler who hates to lose. He starts losing it as I call the numbers before the girl running Bingo is even calling them.
"Give me G36", I say, just seconds before the woman says "G36." I do the same with G32, to clinch my 3rd win, as the guy next to me continues to absolutely lose it over a game of barroom bingo that netted me a hocky goalie mask/bottle opener/magnet, a Miller Lite koozie, and a free drink. We were all set to leave with 15 minutes left until our reservation, however, we decided that we had time for one more.
Before that round of bingo, I hadn't really thought of the possibility of the Seahawks potentially winning 4 in a row. Eli had always mentioned the "Win Fourever" season for Pete Carroll, but I thought of that as us just being crazy fans thinking of all the endless possibilities. More in jest than anything. As I sat there though, I thought, why not? Within 7 or 8 minutes, I was calling bingo once again! Laura even made a bet with me prior to the round starting, that she'd come with to as many games as possible in the 'Win 4Ever' season as humanly possible if I won for a fourth time. Looks like the qwest might continue longer than expected!
I eventually made my way back to Sea-Tac for the long journey home back east. I finally got a chance to think about what had just transpired. It was a long, winding road, but the regular season was finally over. Somehow, with the help of so many people, I had been fortunate enough to make it to two consecutive regular seasons. I thought for a minute about all of the people who had helped me get to where I was at that moment, and was overwhelmed with pride and joy. This was something to be proud of. Something all of us could be proud of.
Especially the Seattle Seahawks, of course. They had every right to be proud of what they had accomplished, but as I boarded that plane, I felt a feeling that I had never felt before. This feeling that I was feeling, that I could not explain, was the feeling of never being satisfied. I knew that the Seahawks were feeling the same exact way, no matter where they were. The division crown and #1 seed were a nice finishing touch to an exhausting, draining season, but the work was far from over, and everyone knew that without hving to say it. In years past, I would have been so elated after clinching the division and the #1 seed. Now, I just focus on the struggle that's sure to be ahead, as nothing has come easy on this wild journey that's spanned over 35 games and 2 seasons.
"I love you, Seattle, thanks always for the memories", I think to myself, as I bid my home away from home farewell. Our airplane departs, vanishing into the foggy skies above. I had seen what I had come to see. Don't worry though, Seattle, I'll be back. I wouldn't miss the next part of our journey for the world.
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