It's a Hopeful Thing: The 12th Man

Sorry for the poor quality: it's the only proof we have of our grand effort to scrounge up everything "Seahawks" for the the big game.

I don't really get interested in sports. (I suppose the exception to this is when Ryder is playing, and then something rises within my chest that if I'm not exercising extreme amounts of self control has the ability to turn me into a rabid dog. But I'm sure that happens to every parent). I especially don't get into sports on a professional level. The last time I remember being entertained by a professional sports event was the 1998 NBA playoffs between the Utah Jazz and the Chicago Bulls. Classic, right? (However, it was more by default really, because my brother and dad had monopolized the TV and if I wanted to watch something, I only had one option. Plus, I liked basketball. And I don't like to brag, but I even played a little basketball in eight grade.) But I especially don't like football. (I mean, where is the dang ball!? By the time I figure out which beastly man has it, the play is already over...and it leaves me feeling somewhat disgruntled).

And who did I marry? Sports-loving-fanatical Phil.


So while we're in our usual routine of trading episodes like Downton Abbey here for a game there, I can't help but pick up a few tid bits from my very informed husband. In the specific case of the Seahawks, anyone living in our house knew the Seahawks had a great chance of making it into the Super Bowl this year. So a few weeks ago, when the Hawks played the Saints, I thought I'd really stretch myself and try to be a supportive wife and sit down and actually watch the game with him. It was an exciting game...what was this feeling? Fun? Excitment? Did I just scream at the television screen? Nobody couldn't have been more surprised by this reaction than myself.

An identity crisis ensued.

As much as I tried not to care. I did. I mean, I had watched an entire game! And I watched the next. And before I knew it I was a Richard Sherman fan. It was at this point, I knew there was no turning back. I even got appalled that our local grocery store didn't have Skittles as one of their snack items in their Super Bowl Party promo display. Do these fruitcakes not know anything?



Along with the fun I had these last few weeks being a Seahawks fan--being proud I have ties to such a great city and my wonderful friends who live there, it was good to be reminded of a couple of things. As much as I'm a fan of the "it's just a game" mantra, sports (and perhaps some other things I don't always understand) end up being more important because they bring hope. And yes, I'm fully aware that I rode the coat tails of my 12th man fan--but I am glad I did and was grateful for something exciting and fun to drown out the weary doldrums of winter.

Way to go, Seahawks!