October 7, 2014
Seahawks 27, DC 17
It's time to face an unpleasant truth, Twelves.
America HATES the Seahawks. They can't stand Richard Sherman's big mouth. They detest Pete Carroll's cocky stride. They abhor the Twelve Army. Russell Wilson is the lone Seahawk who gets a significant amount of love from the NFL nation, but that love is highly conditional, preceded by qualifiers like "game manager" or "surrounded by talent." They see us as assholes at best and cheaters at worst.
I resisted coming to this conclusion, because it's psychologically uncomfortable to realize that the team you love is seen as villains by a wide swath of the nation. Last night the evidence was too blatant to ignore: Even against a strikingly mediocre and unlikable team with a racist nickname, a detestable cur of an owner, an unplayable surface, and the NFL's most laughably arrogant fan base, WE were the bad guys last night. The announcers, the vast majority of viewers, and seemingly even the officials were pulling for DC to take the big, mean Seahawks down a peg or two.
The message from the Seahawks and the Twelve Army to Washington's NFL team and all the assorted haters?
Taste the fuckin' rainbow.
Taste the sweetness of Russell Wilson, who dashed for 122 yards and a TD with his legs, and casually added 200 yards passing and a pair of touchdowns through the air. The indelible image of this win for me? A DC defender on all fours, hanging his head in utter dejection after RW3 miraculously avoided a sack, and floated a perfect pass to Marshawn Lynch jussssst over the outstretched arm of another defender for the game-clinching first down. As the burgundy-clad victim wallowed in defeat, The WolfBadger calmly jogged downfield past him. Just another miracle authored by Russell Carrington Wilson. Every week, it gets harder for the NFL establishment to admit the bald, plain truth sitting in front of them: Wilson is one of the Top 5 QBs in the game, and he'll be #1 sooner than any of them can imagine.
Taste the salty flavors of Marshawn Lynch, who battled through OBVIOUS lower back issues to notch 117 totals yards and a score on 22 touches. There's no tougher running back in the NFL, and there isn't one more instrumental to their team's success, either.
Taste the bitterness of Percy Harvin, whose superlative performance barely showed up on the stat sheet. His three touchdowns were all erased by highly dubious penalties, but he still vastly altered the game in Seattle's favor. DC was so terrified of him that they conceded at least 100 yards of field positions on short kickoffs and failed onside kick attempt. Behind the Wilson/Lynch/Harvin triumvirate, Seattle is posting 27.5 points per game, good for 5th in the NFL so far this season.
Taste the savory Poutine served up by Canadian punting superstar Jon Ryan, who once again consistently BURIED the enemy behind their 10-yard-line and converted a fake field goal attempt into a key first down in the 4th quarter (I'd write that you should also taste Pete Carroll's GIGANTIC salty chocolate balls, but that would be too obvious). Is Ryan the team MVP so far this year? No. But it's not actually insane to make a case for him.
Taste the spicy zest of a Seattle front seven that ERASED DC's ground game, holding their ballcarriers to 1.9 yards per tote. Seahawk linebackers comprehensively dominated the middle of the field, and aside from a couple of deep balls to Deshawn Jackson and another worrisome 4th quarter lapse, the Legion of Boom smothered the enemy as usual.
Was it an "ugly" win? Sure. Like Richard Sherman said after the game, this easily could have been (and should have been) something like a 45-10 Seattle win. But even with Jeff Triplette forgetting to pop in his contact lenses, even on a field comprised of dirt painted green, even against a team so desperate and frustrated they resorted to hair-pulling, even playing far from their best football, the Hawks still won by double digits on the road. That's beautiful to me.
Now they're back in first place in the NFC West. More importantly, they're in position to once again snare home field advantage through the NFC playoffs. Once they actually get out of first gear? Look the fuck out... It'll be a double rainbow into a pot of Lombardi Trophies. You're next, Dallas. You're fucked, Dallas.
What do you think, sirs?