My football season begins and ends with the Seattle Seahawks. Once Seattle is “done,” then so am I. (The only exception is an occasional peek at the Green Bay Packers, if they’re still in the playoffs.)
That makes me a fickle fan, I guess. Born in Seattle, I’ve always had a soft spot in my heart for the three major league sports’ teams that have called the Emerald City their home. Baseball, Football, Basketball—that is, until the Sonics abandoned us!
I never got into Hockey, or Soccer, or Competition Marksmanship, or any other sport. “The Big Three” were more than enough, and from my vantage point, baseball’s 160 game schedule was plenty all by itself.
But football definitely pulls at my heartstrings, way back to the years when Gramps would drive hours to come visit us on holidays and watch nearly endless hours of college bowl games along with the “professional” teams. There were names tossed about I’ll never forget—coaches and players alike—and it makes me nostalgic just to recall them.
Players Bart Starr, Johnny Unitas, Rosie Greer, Lynn Swann, Joe Namath, Joe Montana, Jerry Rice, Emmett Smith, Terry Bradshaw, even O.J. Simpson had his day. Coaches Bill Parcells, Tom Landry, Vince Lombardi, Don Shula, George Halas. The stuff of legends.
So I’m happy that the Seahawks have advanced in the playoffs, and have my fingers crossed about the possibility of a fourth Super Bowl appearance—with three in a row! I’d love to add Russell Wilson and Pete Carroll to the list of names that rolls right of the tongue 50 years from now.