These games aren’t guaranteed.
But once, Pete Carroll spoke and everything seemed possible — infinite confetti, a perpetual parade. It was Feb. 5, 2014, three days after the Seahawks dominated the Denver Broncos 43-8 in Super Bowl 48. The franchise’s first championship parade started near the Space Needle, before sashaying along Fourth Avenue, past an estimated 700,000 bystanders bundled in green and blue. Running back Marshawn Lynch manned the hood of a duck boat, beating a drum and firing Skittles to his hungry fans.
At the parade’s end point, CenturyLink Field, Carroll stood on a crowded stage and saw the future.
“This is an extraordinary group of young men that have come together,” he said to 50,000 euphoric fans, with his team behind him and the Lombardi Trophy to his left. “They have come together to do something very special, and it’s not just one year. We’re just getting warmed up, if you know what I’m talking about.”
That was 12 years ago. Twelve frustrating football Februaries ago. One dynasty-denying end-zone interception ago. One Legion of Boom and one Beast Mode ago. Seven playoff losses ago. One hard, lasting lesson ago.
These games aren’t guaranteed. That’s why they matter.
That 12-year winter makes Super Bowl LX, between the Seahawks and New England Patriots at Levi’s Stadium in Santa Clara, Calif., matter even more.
It matters for Seahawks quarterback Sam Darnold, who found a home here, doubted and discarded but somehow undeterred. And for second-year coach Mike Macdonald, who was a 26-year-old soon-to-be intern with the Baltimore Ravens when Carroll stood on that stage.
It matters for general manager John Schneider, the NFL’s Executive of the Year, who took the keys from Carroll two years ago and built a juggernaut. (...)
Maybe it doesn’t matter for you, specifically. I won’t argue otherwise. Football, a violent and unforgiving sport, is not for everyone.
But broadly? It matters, maybe more than ever. In an increasingly fractured society, where halftime performer Bad Bunny is boycotted by some and beloved by so many more, sports are a gallon of glue — a unifying force.
It matters for a sports city where the Sonics were stolen. Where parades are precious and these games aren’t guaranteed. Where it often rains, but only rains Skittles once...
For the 12s who waited through a 12-year winter. When it comes to traffic or titles, in this town, waits are nothing new.
So, eat the nachos. Wear the jerseys. Fly the 12 flags. Believe that better weather is coming by kickoff.
Long winters make for satisfying springs, if you know what I’m talking about.
It took a while, but the Seahawks may be warming up.
But broadly? It matters, maybe more than ever. In an increasingly fractured society, where halftime performer Bad Bunny is boycotted by some and beloved by so many more, sports are a gallon of glue — a unifying force.
It matters for a sports city where the Sonics were stolen. Where parades are precious and these games aren’t guaranteed. Where it often rains, but only rains Skittles once...
For the 12s who waited through a 12-year winter. When it comes to traffic or titles, in this town, waits are nothing new.
So, eat the nachos. Wear the jerseys. Fly the 12 flags. Believe that better weather is coming by kickoff.
Long winters make for satisfying springs, if you know what I’m talking about.
It took a while, but the Seahawks may be warming up.
[ed. Yay! Here we go... (rooting for my favorite corporation!). UPDATE: Well, they did it; but otherwise, a pretty boring game (except for Mr. Bunny!), and an anticlimactic ending to the season. Oh well, whatever... we'll take it. Love this quote: "The Seahawks and the Patriots did their part by offering up a game of punishing defense and attritional offense that had all the carefree charm of a medieval torture procedure. Can football be normal again? That remains unclear, but on this evidence it can certainly be boring, which is maybe a form of progress."]
