The Beautiful Struggle

“If you are depressed you are living in the past. 

If you are anxious you are living in the future. 

If you are at peace you are living in the present.”

- Lao Tzu 

It had been a grueling season. A tumultuous journey that tested the limits of the soul. A war of attrition waged between the mind and the body. They say the sequel's never better than the original, but that depends on your perspective. If you love the storybook ending, then last season's seemingly destined first Super Bowl run can never be topped. However, if you grew up romanticizing the struggle, then maybe this season could top last? There were blood, sweat, and tears waged on this quest. Nothing came easy, yet the true warrior heart of a champion still shone through.

Great moments were plentiful down the stretch, however, earlier in the season it appeared that the 2014-2015 Seattle Seahawks would not get the chance at a repeat. After a heartbreaking, hard-fought loss in Kansas City, everyone could have thrown in the towel. Having accomplished so much just a season ago, it would have been easy for the team, both players and coaches, to pack it in and be resigned to their fate. Maybe all of the critics were right? Maybe the "Super Bowl hangover" was real and maybe the repeat was increasingly more difficult than winning it for the first time in franchise history.

As such, I'd be lying to you if I told you that I didn't think about giving up. There were people in my life who suggested that I do as such. It's not so much that they wanted to see me fail, as it was that they didn't want to see me hurt anymore. I live and die with this team, always have since I first fell in love with them back on December 16th, 2000. The 6-4 start, coupled with mind-numbing bus trips from NYC to Charlotte, St. Louis, and Kansas City, were starting to take it's toll on me. My loved ones saw a version of me that wasn't what they had become accustomed to after all of these years. 

Sure, those that had been with me long enough knew that this was nothing. This was just an exercise in character building. I had shed tears when Al Harris intercepted Matthew Hasselbeck's overtime pass and took it to the house. That one was a dagger placed right through my heart. And if they knew me long enough, they knew that I was quite literally depressed for months after the sham that was Super Bowl XL. Heck, my first Seahawks experience was a disaster in and of itself, and resulted in tears. 

The stage was set. After a year of being a Seahawks fan, the 'Hawks would invade the original Meadowlands on December 23rd, 2001. My dad was able to get us two tickets from his scalper friend, Spiro. Back then, in New York City, it seemed like everyone knew a scalper, or a bookie, so these types of things were pretty common. Spiro hooked us up for years with excellent tickets, always for face value. I still remember that frigid December day, and not just because it was my first live Seahawks experience, or because it would ultimately end with me in tears.

I remember it mostly because it was actually a great game. Both teams traded hay makers, with Shaun Alexander pacing Seattle's offense while Kerry Collins, Amani Toomer, and Ike Hilliard did the same for the G-Men. Back and forth they went, and the Seahawks actually held a 24-17 lead heading into the fourth quarter. It wouldn't last though, as Ike Hilliard would place the final dagger in my heart at the ripe ole' age of 14, with a late touchdown that would prove to be the gamebreaker. I remember the tears flowing down my face, my father attempting to console me, and ultimately the Giants fans who were sitting around us came to offer me words of encouragement as well. 

If you would have told me back then, that 13 years later on that same plot of land I would witness the Seahawks win their first Super Bowl in franchise history, I probably wouldn't have believed you. The point is, being a Seahawks fan had trained me for disappointment. Fast forward back to the not-so-distant past, and the 24-20 defeat to Kansas City at Arrowhead Stadium, which is a pit to play in, suddenly didn't seem so bad.

All of the hard time and the struggles were now a thing of the past. Every day is an intense grind in the NFL, so sure, there were still the daily struggles and rigors of day-to-day football life, and there were even still some more hiccups for yours truly down the improbable 6-0 stretch that helped make this team NFC West Champions and the #1 seed in the NFC once again, but they could not break the Seahawks and they could not break me. The warrior spirit had already been forged long ago, and it was destined, or so it seemed, to carry on no matter what.

After a week of normality, spent watching other NFL playoff games without a care in the world, it was now time to get back into focus. During my downtime at the pickle stand, my mind would drift as it has for the past 15 years of existence. Visions of Earl Thomas interceptions, Kam Chancellor decapitating receivers, and Russell Wilson weaving through defenders before a perfectly-timed slide had taken over my mind. The week of normality, was just a formality, because inside there was nothing normal about the way I was feeling.

The only thing that could break my concentration on all things Seahawks, was my right hand crashing through the ice and digging through the now-chunky pickle brine to dig for pickles. 

"Hey brotha! Quart of sours, please? Thanks boss!"

Thank god for these requests, because surely otherwise I would have gone crazy and frozen to death with Seahawks on the brain. As the time grew closer and closer to Saturday though, there was no avoiding the reality of the situation. I realized, who cares about what everyone else thinks? I was content with thinking about the Seahawks 24/7. After years of futility, we were just days away from another chapter in Seahawks history. The playoffs were set to begin for our beloved osprey's of the Northwest, and with that meant an opportunity at the seemingly improbable.

Finally, Friday had arrived. It was too cold to sell pickles, so I was spared the torture and agony and was able to concentrate solely on meeting with Greg, and heading to Newark International Airport. When I link up with Greg, at 'New York Pizza Suprema' on 31st Street and 8th Avenue, a familiar feeling suddenly returns. That feeling that everything was going to be alright, and that great things were destined for our future, and for the future of the Seattle Seahawks. We devour our slices, then make our way across the street to Penn Station. After pounding a few beers at Rosa's Pizza down near the subway to help ease the pain of two upcoming flights, we hop on the NJ Transit bound for Newark International.

The two of us can not stop talking about the game. Despite being a Jets fan born and raised, Greg's knowledge of the Seahawks had come a long way. It was nice having someone back home who was also able to talk Seahawks. Most other people had no interest in the Seahawks, some even hated them, but with Greg I had someone who genuinely enjoyed and appreciated the team, and did the homework to know what he was talking about, which made it even more enjoyable.

After checking through security and the hassles that that entails, we make our way to our gate and wait for our flight to depart. Still, all the while, talking Seahawks football and running through all the possibilities of what could happen in their Divisional Round game against the Carolina Panthers. Soon enough, it's time for us to board and depart. Away we go, in to the frigid atmosphere up above, our next destination being Phoenix, Arizona.

It was a fitting place for a layover, and one that Greg and I hoped we would get the opportunity to return to in less than a month's time. Going to Phoenix in December was outstanding, and Greg and I both had a blast, however we really wanted to be back in February for the big game.

As fate would have it, a familiar face was also boarding that plane from Phoenix to Seattle that night. Bob, or 'PredatorHawk' as he is affectionately known, was also making the trip to Seattle for this week's playoff game. Back at the Eagles game, in the Lincoln Financial Field parking lot, Bob had vowed to sell me his extra ticket for each playoff game for face value. This gesture was absolutely indicative of the outstanding character that Bob possesses. His goal in life, or so it seems since I've never actually asked him, is to help others and make sure that other people are happy, putting that even before his own needs. It magnifies when it's a Seahawks fan in need, and Bob is always there to try and do his part.

Staying true to his word, Bob reminded me that his extra ticket was mine, if I wanted it. Of course, I said yes, however I told him that Greg would be coming along with me, and that we were going to try and sit together if at all possible. Luckily for Greg and I, Bob had purchased another seat a little bit closer to the action. Being the gem that he is, he offered us both of his tickets, for face value. I'm sure he wouldn't want me including these details, because that's the type of person the man known as the PredatorHawk is, but someone must tell the tale of his good deeds.

"Hawking it forward" was indeed alive and well. The three of us chatted for a bit, even mixing it up with some Panthers fans as well. It appeared that everyone, no matter the team they rooted for, was just excited to be going to the game. These two teams had had a past, with the Seahawks winning 3 in a row in Charlotte spanning over the past 3 seasons. Before that even, the Seahawks disposed of the Panthers en route to Super Bowl XL, so it was safe to say that folks from the Carolina's were not the biggest Seattle Seahawks fans in the world. However, this was one of the beautiful things about the Seahawks now being a great team. Other teams fans hated us!

Rivalries were now popping up seemingly out of nowhere, with teams with no geographical affiliation with the Seahawks at all. Redskins fans absolutely despised us, as did New Orleans Saints fans. This wasn't because the Seahawks were "cheaters" or because they played the game dirty, but instead because the Seahawks kept beating their teams, especially when it mattered most in the playoffs. The same could be said for Panthers fans, who after talking to some at Sky Harbor International Airport, had revenge on their minds.

We thank Bob for his generous act, and send him some more thanks in the form of a man named Jack Daniels, once we ascend into the picturesque Arizona night sky up above. The good karma tour was officially underway, and it's next stop was Seattle, Washington.

In some ways, this regular season had to finish the way it did. The Seahawks just had to have the #1 seed in the NFC yet again. Last year was just too much fun. I was not ready for it to be a one and done. In fact, I had visions of perfection before the season started and even after the Packers game in early September. How foolish and naive I was, however, the Seahawks were still the #1 seed. It was part of the reason why Greg was so intent on making his way to Seattle for both playoff games, because of course there would be two. He had an amazing time in Seattle last January, spent with amazing people who showed us so much generosity and the warmest welcome that we had ever seen.

Seeing people that I had created bonds with from both coasts get along so well was one of the greatest things that happened on last season's entire journey. Watching my worlds collide was what I lived for, and it was something that I tried to continue this season.

True to last year's form, things broke our way right off the bat. We would be staying with Steve that night, and with our flight landing after 11 pm, we would need a bit of luck to get us to the 512 bus stop at 4th Street and Jackson. That luck came, in the form of our flight landing at Sea-Tac 20 minutes earlier than scheduled. We didn't even get to say goodbye to Bob, who was seated towards the back of the plane, as we sprinted off of the flight, through the airport, and to the Light Rail. I advise Greg that we should probably hustle the rest of the way, and as soon as I say that, a train appears in the distance. We give it all that we've got and make it just in time, as the train departs shortly thereafter.

It was truly an "earn everything" type moment. That was the phrase that Greg, Jordan, and I would use continuously during last season's epic title run. Ran through the airport to catch your flight as the door was closing for boarding? Earn everything! Had a tooth pulled instead of getting a root canal just to save money and keep the improbable dream alive? Earn everything! It wasn't just a slogan anymore, at this point it had become a way of life. A new purpose to our existence. A key component to our genetic makeup and what set us apart from the rest. We owed it all to Pete Carroll and his amazing vision. 

We actually make it to the bus stop a few minutes early and soon we were on our way to the Everett Transit Station. We were definitely weary travelers, as being 34,000 feet in the sky had taken it's toll on us. We were both dehydrated, and I tried my hardest to take a nap, but to no avail. However, our poor condition improves, as Steve's car cuts through the fog and pulls up in the adjacent parking lot.

We run over to his car and hop in. It's all smiles as we were reunited once again and under such incredible circumstances. Steve's forgotten more about the Seahawks than I could ever know, so it's always great to hear stories about Seahawks teams of yesteryear. We use the drive back to Steve's place to catch up, especially Steve and Greg. They'd not seen each other since last January, as this was Greg's first return to the Pacific Northwest this season. They had met in Houston last year, when Steve, then still a stranger, had offered to store our bags in his car before the game. As luck would have it, the game ended up going into overtime, and Greg, Dah-Un, and I were on the brink of missing our flight back home. Steve sprung into action, offering to drive us to the airport despite not having to depart on his own flight in some 7 hours or so. He zipped across the massive, sprawling Houston highways and to the airport, where we made it on to our flight with about 5 minutes to spare. It was the type of moment that defined the year, only there were seemingly hundreds more of those moments. It was also the type of moment that defined Steve as a person, a billing that he would end up living up to time and time again.  

After a quick stop for some fuel in the form of sirloin burgers and curly fries, we reach our destination and our day of travel is complete. Now it's time to kick back and relax and discuss the week's game, which is less than 24 hours away. It seems that we are all in agreement, and the consensus feeling about the game is that it might be tough for a while, but the Seahawks will ultimately win in convincing fashion. Having so much confidence is weird for the lifelong Seahawks fan. Even weirder, is having that supreme confidence be justified.

We laugh until we can laugh no more, listening to clips of Mike Francesca tear John Idzik apart, and soon it's 4 am, which was actually 7 am for those of us traveling from the east coast. With a big day ahead of us, we decide to call it a night.

Although I usually don't get much sleep before Seahawks games, I logged a solid 6 hours this time. My body was simply too shot to keep going any longer after a brutal week of working in the cold and the grueling travel to get out west. We rise, and Steve serves us up a delicious breakfast complete with some of the best bacon I've ever had in my life. I'm not even much of a coffee drinker, but for some reason, I get in to the mood when I'm in Seattle on gameday. The confidence has turned slightly into nervous anticipation, as we discuss whether or not 'Scam' Newton would be able to enter the CLink and leave it in the same condition he arrived in.

Steve comments on my beanie, and how much he likes it, and I think back to a story about Marshawn Lynch. In this story, the writer mentions how Marshawn was once hanging out with a friend when someone commented on Lynch's shirt, and how much they liked it. Marshawn, without hesitation, took the shirt off and gave it to the person. This story was not told by Marshawn as a way to gloat about his great, kind act, but by the friend, who said that Marshawn then walked around without a shirt on the rest of the time. With that story in mind, I decided that I wanted to be like Marshawn, so I gave Steve the hat. It was an example of the Seattle Seahawks being more than just a football team, and inspiring something positive off of the football field. As silly as it sounds, it felt great to be able to give Steve the beanie, especially after the circumstances of how I obtained the beanie. It never belonged with me in the first place.

My lady was sweet and kind enough to buy me the sideline beanie for Christmas last season, but me being me, I lost it on the 7 train on my way to my mother's house prior to heading to the airport for the Cardinals home game in Week 16. Rather than be a standup guy about it, and tell the truth and admit my gaffe, I lied about it instead, with the thought that I'd be able to purchase another one in Seattle within the next few days. Only that proved to be impossible. The beanie was a hit all over town, and it was sold out for months at every Seahawks Pro Shop in town. Week after week, she would ask if I got it back "from my friends house", and week after week I replied no.

Finally, during the off-season, she went away for a week to go see her family upstate. I ordered up a beanie on ebay and it arrived a few days later. I thought I had somehow gotten away with it. To my surprise, upon opening up the package, it was the same beanie alright, but it had a Super Bowl champions patch on one of the sides! As she had originally given me the beanie before the Seahawks became champions, this made no sense! I took it as a sign of life proving me a valuable lesson, and came clean about the whole ordeal.

Now, the beanie had a new head to call home. I could think of no one better than Steve, who's son Zack had tried to get one for his dad for Christmas last year but with no luck. Steve had gotten the hat he truly deserved, and would cherish, complete with a Super Bowl champs patch and all. It was the universe restoring order.

After breakfast, Steve takes Greg and I back down to the Everett Transit Station. We were heading down to the CLink especially early because Mike Flood had invited me down on to the field for player warmups! He was even so kind as to allow Greg and old friend, Eli, to come as well, upon my request. The drive down was filled with nervous anticipation, as the magnitude of what was about to unfold started to sink in. The three of us do the best that we can to focus on the task at hand, which is getting ready to be as loud as humanly possible to help our team to victory.

We arrive in Everett and board the bus headed back downtown to Seattle. We're the first people to board, and the driver lets us on for $3 instead of $3.50. It's the first minor victory of the day. Stop after stop, the bus starts to fill in with men and women clad in blue and green. Some wear masks, others wear fake dreadlocks, regardless of the specifics, nearly everyone is representing the Seahawks in one fashion or another.

We notice a man sketching as he talks to the Seahawks fan directly across from him. We're engaged in our conversation with an ex-convict on work release, who loves the Seahawks just as much as everyone else, so we can't hear the specifics of what the man sketching has to say. He is sketching a man with a Seahawks mask that he has handmade. It is an impressive bit of work, and serves it's purpose of intimidation.

Shortly after, the man with the notepad slides over to the seat next to ours. He informs us that he's an artist for the Seattle Times, and that his name is Gabriel. I can tell from his accent, that he's not from around here, and that perhaps he was from Spain. In fact, he is from Spain, he says, to which I retort with the fact that my mother is from Spain as well. We connect on that for a minute, and then he's back to asking us about the game. He asks us where we're from, and he can't believe his ears when we tell him that we're from New York City. I tell him that not only did we make the trip out for this game, but that I had been to the past 36 Seahawks games as well. He begins to start sketching me as he continues with his questions.

Gabriel is a nice man. Non-imposing and polite, he's a laid back guy with an inviting smile and a calmness about him. Greg and I engage him with conversation about travel, the Seahawks, and the specifics on good living. When we finally get off the bus at 5th and Jackson, he makes his way to the stadium, as Greg and I keep walking along Jackson towards Temple Billiards. They are at capacity, so there's no time to mingle with our friends before the game, but that's okay because we were big things in store in our future.

We get down around the stadium about 3:15 when we finally meet up with Eli. He's psyched about the chance to get on the field, and the three of us walk towards the NE VIP entrance. After being unable to find it for a minute, we're finally led in the right direction but some helpful stadium staff. We get through security and make our way towards our destination. Once we arrive, we wait, as the room fills with assorted family members of players from both teams. Members of the Tukuafu family walk by, as does a large group of people wearing Panthers jersey's with the name 'Benwikere' on the back.

Soon, Mike appears, alongside his brother. We are all given wristbands, as Mike takes a minute to personally greet everyone who he had invited. Mike is a shining example of why the Seattle Seahawks are the best organization in sports. He is authentic and genuine, and loves reaching out to the 12th Man, going above and beyond the call of duty to make sure that everyone is happy. After pleasantries, the moment that we had all waited for was finally upon us! Mike leads the way, as we walk through the concourse, out through the tunnel like the players battling it out soon would, and onto the field.

I had been here once before. Coincidentally, PredatorHawk had gotten me on to the field prior to the Titans game last season. I remember feeling an amazing feeling that day, the feeling that this is where I belonged. The stage didn't seem too big for me, and I loved the vantage point that being right on the field provided. It was here, as the offensive line galloped past us, that I realized the enormity of the size of some of these men. These men were giants, mythical titans that defied the laws of existence.

Now, I was back, and with two friends who were experiencing it for the first time, like I had a season prior. Seeing their eyes light up gave me an excellent feeling deep down inside. We immediately recognize Cam Newton, who is directly in front of us on the field, alternating between throwing passes and catching them, all while never moving his legs. The ball zips through the air, as his facial expression hardly ever changes, despite the work load. Newton is a massive figure, and he appears to be locked in and focused. Gone is the wide smile that has been his trademark up until this point.

A few feet away from Newton stands the Seahawks linebacker corpse. Their positional coach, Ken Norton Jr., is at the center of the group, inspiring his men as they dance, hoot, and holler around him. They break from their huddle, and start backpedaling before springing into action and leaping for the would-be, hypothetical interception. It's here that you really get to appreciate the wingspan of KJ Wright, who glides through the air and reaches out for the ball with arms that look like that of Inspector Gadget's. 

Soon, Kam Chancellor emerges from one of the entrances. He is wearing a white under armour shirt, shorts, and his customary blue and green spikes. His face never winces, smiles, or makes any expression really, as he jogs around the field a few times before settling in for some drills. Like the linebackers, he backpedals before breaking on the ball and making it his own. I think back to Training Camp, when I saw Kam, Earl, and Sherm leading the way in defensive back drills. I can't help but think about how I realized that these were what consummate professionals looked like, and that this is what it must have felt like to get to watch guys like Mike Singletary play back in the '80's.

I was at peace now, for as Lao Tzu had said many ages ago, I was living in the present. We continue our walk around the field, and just like that, Pete Carroll is standing a few feet away from us. He has his hands behind his back and is pacing slowly, looking out at the massive structure that was the CLink. He appears stoic and unfazed by the enormity of the situation at hand. This was, in fact, what he lives for.

As we make our way to the endzone, a few of the Seahawks run to the tunnel to head back to the locker rooms to get fully suited up in preparation for the game. On his way back, a young fan standing near the front railing, screaming his name, catches Bobby Wagner's attention. Wagner walks over, and hands the kid his beanie. Later, KJ Wright would stop and sign autographs for a host of children who were standing near the railing. Even Kam Chancellor, who was in all-business mode, made sure to stop by and hook the kids up with some gear. Even more impressive, none of the kids got laid out like their name was Vernon Davis. It was the type of moment that made you extremely proud to be a Seahawks fan.

Once we made it to the endzone, Mike introduces me to a man named Joe Jones, and his wife. Joe is a former running back and linebacker for the University of Washington. He was a member of the 1960 and 1961 Rose Bowl teams for the Huskies. I tell him that he must love Wil Tukuafu, as Tukuafu is one of the rare two-way players still playing in the league. In fact, he does, as he eventually tells me that back in his day, every player had to play on both sides of the ball. Despite being a Cougar, it was an honor to meet such a great man, and a kind man, who told me to continue pursuing being a writer, as that's what his wife does and she loves it.

Still in the endzone, I look to my right in the first row of stands behind the goalpost, when Greg and I see a familiar face. It was Michael Stentz, a Seahawks fan who was also traveling to every game last season! We had met him at the airport in Atlanta last season after the Falcons game. Although we didn't keep in touch, Michael recognized us and the three of us had an impromptu reunion in the back of the endzone. It was quite the coincidence, and definitely a cool moment.

As Greg, Eli, and I continue our tour around the field, we can't help but marvel at the size of both Mike Tolbert and Kawann Short. These are two of, pound for pound, the biggest human beings I have ever seen in my life. Tolbert is right next to us, stretching in the endzone, and his jersey won't go past his bellybutton. He looks like a woman wearing a t-shirt that's tied above her waist at the beach, not an NFL fullback. Short, on the other hand, is the widest human being that I think I've ever seen. And unlike James Carpenter, who held that distinction before, he does not look like a gentle giant. He looks all the part of nasty, NFL defensive tackle.

We touch the turf, pick up rubber pellets, and mostly stand in awe. Soon, as our tour comes to an end, we walk past a tall man wearing a hat in the style of legendary wrestler, The Undertaker. It's Martellus Bennett. The enormity of this game starts to sink in as we exit the field and make our way back to the concourse.

We stand in shock for a few minutes, doing nothing and saying very little. We came, we saw, and we conquered. Blue Thunder sets up behind the 'Hawks Nest and performs for the fans as they begin to spill in through security and in to the CLink. There is blue and green literally everywhere, as only once in a while you'll spot a Panthers fan who was brave enough to make the trip out west. Greg and I walk with Eli to his seat, before we eventually make our way up to PredatorHawk's seats up in Section 327.

We cruise past the 12th Man Flag, which is about to be hoisted by Seahawks legend Kenny Easley, before stopping at a food kiosk in search of the commemorative '#31 Bam Bam' turkey legs that were being sold for $10 in honor of Kam Chancellor. As we finally get to our seats, our neighbors around us at the giant hunk of turkey that we are consuming. We look like two Vikings, utter savages with no regard for table manners or any of those useless pleasantries.

We're almost done with our feast, when the player introductions begin and the crowd whips into a frenzy. It's a typical Seattle night, with mist breaking through the clouds, making sure that no one goes home dry for the evening. The offense is introduced this week, and the largest ovation definitely goes to Beast Mode. The pyro continues to go off, before India Arie takes the stage to sing the national anthem. She delivers an excellent performance, as everyone's attention shifts to the 12th Man Flag above the South End Zone.

The crowd goes berserk, as Kenny Easley gets the call to finally raise the flag. After years of bad blood with the organization, it was great to see Easley finally etch his name into another part of Seahawks lore. As Hausch Money gets set to kick off, the crowd is now in playoff mode and ready to make life on Cam Newton as impossible as possible.

Neither offense can appear to get on track, whereas the Panthers struggle to move the chains, the Seahawks struggle to stay disciplined. The first big play of the night comes on a Panthers 3rd down, as Cam Newton heaves a pass deep down the right sideline, right into the waiting arms of Richard Sherman! It appears that the Seahawks might be able to capitalize on the early turnover, however, Ricardo Lockette's personal foul penalty moves the 'Hawks out of field goal range. It's still only the first quarter, however, it appears that this game will be much like the last few meetings between these two teams.

Although much was made about the Panthers losing record during the regular season, they were playing much better football by season's end. Plus, Seahawks fans couldn't talk, as one of their greatest victories in team history up to that point came as a team with the losing record in the playoffs. Furthermore, the Panthers always seemed to play the Seahawks tough in the last few years, and were built to take on the physical team from Seattle. As a kid, my dad had bought me a Panthers 'Tim Biakabutuka' jersey, and I always wore it proudly. So I've definitely got some love for Carolina. However, not during this game. Not in the playoffs. Sorry, Panthers.

The Seahawks open the scoring late in the first, with a beautiful lob from Hustle Wilson to Doug Baldwin, set up by a Michael Bennett fumble recovery. Wilson's strike to Baldwin shows the maturation of our fearless leader, as he tosses the ball up to the spot he believes Baldwin will be in, beating the blitz while in the process showing faith that Baldwin will beat his man as well. Section 327, and all of CenturyLink, erupts as Baldwin makes the grab before making sure the referee sees that his feet were in bounds and that it was a touchdown. It was a great start for the home team, and Seahawks fans everywhere might have thought that the rest of the night would be this easy.

The first quarter comes to an end, and soon, a man by the name of "The Seahawks Rooster", was now standing beside me. He had a plaque in his hand, with my name engraved in it, and was presenting me with this award for being a part of the Guinness record breaking crowd for loudest crowd roar last season. 'The Rooster' is all about connecting Seahawks fans, and giving them a platform to be celebrated on, and it was definitely a fun moment during such a tense situation. We shake hands, take some pictures, before getting back our seats to catch the action of the second quarter.

However, much to their credit, the Panthers hung tough. That includes Cam Newton, who in fact played much better than we had all expected heading in to the game. The Panthers march down the field and answer the Seahawks opening score with one of their own, as Kelvin Benjamin beats Tharold Simon on a slant for a quick score of his own. These pesky Panthers weren't just going to lay down and die. Their quarterback had been in a car wreck just a few weeks earlier and fractured his back, while their head coach had his house burn down just a few days prior. Carolina had the nation's sympathy, and they were going to use their momentum from their win against the Cardinals to try and slow down a red-hot Seattle team.

To be quite honest, I had hoped that the Lions would beat Dallas during the Wild Card round. I wanted a chance to see Golden Tate, Suh, and Calvin Johnson take their act to Seattle. Tate especially. I wanted to see what his reception would be from the Seattle crowd, as well as wondering what would happen if he were to catch a ball across the middle of the field, oh, say in the radius of Kam Chancellor?

Chancellor is becoming a bit of a playoff legend in Seattle. While Reggie Jackson is known in the baseball world as "Mr. October", Chancellor is becoming a sort of "Mr. January", if you will. His game reaches insane new heights when the games really start to count, and you can count on him delivering punishing hit after punishing hit on opposing players.  You can also count on their spirits and souls being crushed during or immediately afterwards.

January 10, 2015 was no different from any of the games last January, where Kam Chancellor was a one man wrecking machine. You could tell early on that he was in the zone, and that he was going to deliver another signature performance.

Another man who has become a big time playoff performer is #15, Jermaine Kearse. After an uninspiring regular season, "Big Play Jermaine" re-emerged from the abyss, with two especially outstanding grabs in the first half. On the second one, he beat his man off the line, before fighting through some illegal contact, reaching out with one arm and making a sweet grab, and jetting his way to the endzone, where he dove for the pylon and got in before his knee was down out of bounds. The crowd erupts, as Macklemore starts to play in the distance, and you immediately feel like you're back at the NFC Championship game after his massive touchdown catch.

We hurl Skittles into the air in celebration, and soon it's Kam Chancellor hurling himself into the air, not once, but twice, in an attempt to block Graham Gano's field goal attempt at the end of the first half. The first time, in an amazing display of anticipation and athleticism, Chancellor hurdles the center cleanly but misses the ball, as Gano's kick somehow goes through the uprights. A penalty on Carolina nullifies the score, however, and Gano attempts another field goal. Again, Chancellor soars over the center's head, timing the snap perfectly, and again he misses the block from point blank range! However, distracted by the frightening sight of Kam Chancellor leaping through the air and barreling straight towards him, Gano shanks the kick wide left and everyone begins to celebrate.

Hold on, there's a flag down. This time, it's on Chancellor, and running into the kicker is the call. It appears that Gano flopped, but what do you expect from a kicker? The teams head to the locker room, as Seahawks fans shower the referees with boo's, and Chancellor tries to catch his breath. It's 14-10, Seahawks, and Seattle is scheduled to get the ball to start the second half.

There's a few things you can count on in life, and that's death and taxes. You can add another thing to that list, and that's the Seahawks making halftime adjustments and making big plays in the fourth quarter. This game was to be no different.

After a scoreless third quarter that saw the team trade disappointing drives, the Seahawks were able to put up 3 points in the form of a Steven Hauschka field goal. With the score now 17-10, the Seahawks defense forces a stop and makes sure to put a stranglehold on the game with an efficient 6 play, 58 yard drive that takes only 2:27 off the clock. It ends with a Wilson to Willson connection, this one for 25 yards and six points. It's Willson's second huge touchdown catch against Carolina, the first being his game-winning touchdown reception in Charlotte back in October. Greg and I are elated, as Luke Willson is one of our favorite Seahawks, and we scream "Luuuuuuuuuke" along with the rest of the 68,000 plus frenzied fans in attendance.

Still, the Panthers never gave up. Despite being down 24-10, Cam Newton leads his men on a march down the Seahawks side of the field. An impressive drive that shows their character, as well as their resolve. All of that good stuff goes out the window, however, as that bad man, Kam Chancellor, arrives back on the scene. After a long, 31-yard pass play to star Tight End Greg Olsen, and a 6 yard run from Newton himself, it sets up a 2nd down and 4 from the Seahawks 13 yard line. With 6:11 to go in the ballgame, the Panthers still had a shot at this one. That shot goes up in smoke, as Kam Chancellor jumps the route, picks the pass, and takes it 89 yards in the opposite direction for a game-sealing touchdown! 

If we had still had our 'Bam Bam' turkey legs, we would have thrown them up in the air in jubilation! Kam had made the play of the night, on a night filled with many great plays by the Seahawks. What did we expect? It was under the lights, on prime time, the time when the Seahawks really come alive and show the world their greatness. The Panthers added a consolation touchdown late, Kelvin Benjamin yet again showing that I can be horribly, horribly wrong about football a lot of the time, but it meant nothing other than different scoreline at the end of the night.

31-17 was the final score, and as the Seahawks lined up in their patented victory formation, which has become a staple of Seahawks playoff football, step one of the three step journey was now complete. Fireworks shoot off into the sky, as fans high five and hug it out in the stands. Greg and I kick back and hang at the stadium for a little while longer, as we hang with the man in front us, Eddie, and his crew. Everyone's all love and smiles, as few things make us feel better in life than Seahawks playoff victories.

After the game, Greg and I head to Temple for some celebratory brewski's. Steve, Tim, Bart, Jordan, and the rest of the gang are already there, celebrating a nice, hard-fought victory. You could tell that some of our voices were tattered and torn, but that was to expected, and quite frankly, anything less would be an embarrassment. I couldn't help but get down about the absence of Leif, but I knew that he was out there, somewhere, watching proudly.

Shortly after, we made our way to another local establishment, and it was there that we met up with Kam's brother, Cornel, and the rest of the Chancellor clan. Mama Chancellor was there, and I gave her a big hug and told her that it was good to see her again. We had met after the Divisional round win over the Saints last year, and I made sure to tell her that I knew she must have been extremely proud of her boy and his amazing performance.

After kicking it with the Chancellor's for a minute, Greg, Eli, Eli's buddy Cam, and I decided to go back to Eli's for some post-game barbecue! We celebrate the night away, while devouring delicious slabs of brisket, and re-watching the game on Eli's TV. We don't make it too far in the game though, as we are too excited to stop from interrupting the game every few seconds to interject with stories of Seahawks greatness.

We wake up the next morning and pick up right where we left off. We turn on the TV and there's two more playoff games to be played. We watch with disregard for either team, as the Cowboys and Packers duke it out for a chance to face our mighty Seahawks in the NFC Championship the following week. Neither side hardly musters up any fear in us, as both quarterbacks appear to be broken men on the verge of hospital visits. Mercifully, the game ends in regulation, as the Packers prevail, and with it, the prophecy was fulfilled.

After the game on September 4th, I had told Juan and Jazz, who also went to the game, that the Packers would be back in town for the NFC Championship. Months later, albeit in an entirely different fashion then I had imagined, the scenario had indeed unfolded the way I said it would. It was a dream matchup for Juan and I, and one that we had talked about as a possibility since the beginning of last season. Now, it was reality. The harsh reality of the situation was, of course, that someone was going to go home very unhappy. Depressed even.

Still, it was all about living in the now, and that's what the four of us did. I hadn't laughed as hard as I did that day for a while, and the laughs continued as we joked about John Schneider, Steven Hauschka, and a variety of insane Seahawks alternate universes. We didn't care that we were watching the possible end of a great career during that Colts/Broncos game, because we knew that the Seahawks had actually ended his career months earlier at MetLife.

Sadly, it was time to go. Greg and I had a flight to catch at Sea-Tac. However, this wasn't the end of a chapter, no, this was the beginning of one. We knew that the great time we had had was something special, a part of something bigger. And we knew that all across the great state of Washington, people had that familiar, contagious feeling. The feeling that something beautiful was happening, something truly amazing was being forged.

The Seattle Seahawks were one win away from returning to football's ultimate showdown. The next chapter in Seattle Seahawks lore was ready to be written. However,this one was still up to the fates.

To Be Continued...