I have been a Seahawks fan my entire life, and I’ve never been so ashamed at this team as I am this weekend.
I’ve sat through the 2-14 abortion that was the 1992 season, the abomination that was Rick Mirer, the paleozoic Moon-Watters unit, Galloway’s holdout, Koren Robinson not being able to catch a ball if it had handles and was coated with velcro, We Want The Ball And We’re Going To Throw a Pick Six, various 17-point gag jobs, and Zebra Bowl.
And I’ve never been as ashamed of the Seahawks then as I am now.
Shame on me for ever thinking this team had heart. Back in 2005, when the team had its best season ever, I thought that years of coming close and falling short had vulcanized the team to the point that they were going to take every challenge head-on and prove every naysayer wrong in the process. Little did I know that they never got that chip on their shoulder that the other 31 teams would’ve developed after those circumstances. They were just good. And when the referees conspired to coronate Jerome Bettis, Bill Cowher, and the Almighty Steelers, any other team in the league would’ve spent the offseason biding their time like a serial killer, waiting for the opportunity to claim vengeance against such an injustice.
Silly me. I forgot these were the Seattle Tin Men. The team with no heart.
For the past two years, critics, burned bandwagoners from the ’04 season, and fans of rival teams have been quick to characterize the Seahawks as a team that only has success as a result of getting fat off a traditionally weak division, a team that can’t, won’t, and never will get it done when it matters.
And yesterday, the Seahawks took the field in Green Bay, and said, “You’re right. We don’t belong here.”
After a 14-point flurry that came as a result of two fumbles from a running back who hadn’t fumbled the entire season, the team decided that five minutes of effort was enough, and spent the rest of the game in neutral. That 14-point lead didn’t even last the entire quarter. Green Bay came right back, tied up the score, then scored again, and again, and again, and again. Meanwhile, the Seahawks were doing everything they can to make sure the Packers won that game, giving Ryan Grant wide open holes to run through, letting Brett Favre stay on his feet after wrapping him up, and generally being worthless on both sides of the ball. The final score might as well have been 56-6, because those fumble recoveries ended up doing nothing but making the score look a little more digestible.
Now we have to worry about a running back who’s a shell of what he once was, a coach who’s thinking about retirement (and if you honestly think Holmgren was that bad of a coach, have fun finding a better one out there), and a defensive corps that was thoroughly overwhelmed yesterday. That loud thudding sound you just heard is the sound of the Seahawks’ window slamming shut.
If I were a player on the team today, I’d be ashamed to show my face in public, and spend every day hand-writing letters of apology to every fan who supported them this season. This team humiliated its fans more than any 2-14 season ever could.