The Payoff of Commitment

Have you ever had an argument hit a chord with you so much that it was a mixture of anger, disgust and nuclear hate? Of course you have… We’ve all been in a relationship at one time that meant the world to us. Some of us were lucky enough to figure out eventually, that this kind of love, although tantalizing, is not usually healthy. But also like a lot of people, a lot of us find it difficult to get away.

I can’t remember the last time there wasn’t at least a little doubt in my heart. Over the years we’ve had ups, we’ve had downs. There were times I was positive we were meant for each other but I’d be lying if I said I never looked at another. It was so much different when I was younger… I was still excited by everything, but it wasn’t all that passionate; Just new. Then as I matured and learned more about life, love and commitment, the relationship naturally evolved. I learned the whole give-and-take routine. I learned that the best kind of love is the kind you work hard for and are patient with. And even when you’re not sure you can trust ‘em, you stand by them because… Because you should… Because you’re invested… Because they will always be around, so it’ll be awkward otherwise… Because you want to.

And that’s about when you realize they will always be there for you.

It’s at that point that you place a little higher value on what you have. All of the sudden, moving on becomes less of an option. It’s a commitment you’ve decided to see through because it’s worth it. It’s not an obligation, it’s still voluntary, but when I see them work hard to better themselves, it’s that much more attractive to a guy like me… Free agent acquisitions, new jersey designs, leaders you can trust in and respect… God damn I love the Seattle Seahawks.

It’s hard work being a fan of a team that’s 37 years old, has only been to the Super Bowl once and shares a division with a tough 49’er team both rich in history and a full community of arrogant dicks that love discussing the years between ’80 and ’94 but not much else. Our coach is charismatic and can chew the shit out of some bubblegum. He ran his previous team like a coke dealer from Tallahassee; flashy and illegal as hell. We have such a young team that the oldest player’s favorite show growing up was Saved by the Bell. Our star corner grew up in Compton, graduated from Harvard West where Jim Harbaugh was the then-coach… But even better, that same star corner hated Harbaugh then too.

Our running back looks like if Eric Dickerson and Bootsie Collins had a kid. Our quarterback is like the athletic version of Jesus. He visits more dying kids than the Grim Reaper and still finds time to work on his footwork in the pocket… And let’s not forget about Golden Tate… A)His name is Golden. B)He went to Notre Dame. C)As soon as he got here, he got drunk and broke into a Top Pot Donuts and started grubbing. Why wouldn’t you let that dude come hang out? Not to mention, Max Unger’s watering hole is where I used to tie up my steed pretty regularly, so I know first hand that he might be the nicest dude ever to play on the offensive line in the NFL. I bet that dude farts rainbows. It almost surprises me that a guy capable of stopping an angry 300lb dude from hurting anybody, has the capacity to be that nice.

So what’s so difficult? I sound pretty enthralled with this relationship, right? Yes, I am. But slow it down with the hype. Expectation poisons the well. We get pissed when Sportscenter ignores us but when they decide to mention our names, it feels like they set such a high bar that if we don’t go 2007 Patriots on the league, we’ve failed. I’m not trying to sound ungrateful, I’m just pointing out another classic example of the tribulations that are worth enduring  for this kind of commitment.

We’ve been on five dates this season and I have to say I’m happy. 4-1, with our only loss being on the road to a good team. We’ve already blown out our rival, we’ve won 2 of 3 on the road, one being a comeback victory that was won in overtime. We’ve done so with a mish mash of offensive lineman lineups, we’ve had injuries and suspensions on both sides of the ball and our other golden child, Percy Harvin, broke his hip like that old lady in the First Alert Commercial, so we haven’t even seen him yet! But it's gettttting cloooossseeerrr.... OOOOOoooohhhhH WWEeeeeee…

But I digress. We have 11 games remaining. Six at home, five on the road. By the numbers our schedule looks pretty easy now, but some of the “easy games” are at Atlanta and at the New York Giants. Screw you if you think those are easy road games. I’m pretty passively superstitious when it comes to sports, so I’m not going to throw out a predicted final record, but I will say I’m confident we’re still on track to make the road to the Super Bowl run through Seattle. Be on the lookout for Monday Night Football on December 2^nd. The New Orleans Saints come back to City of Rain in what could be a pretty pivotal game in the season. Not to mention we follow that up with an away game against the 49’ers… Officially our last game in Candlestick Park. Let’s tear that bitch down, what do you think?

See? Love is looked at as such a kind and gentle thing, but I’ll be damned if I don’t want to rip the head off a fuggin stranger when we lose a close one. That’s love. That’s not hate. You’re hurt and you don’t know how to manage the pain…

Well here’s my plan… I need some romance in this relationship...

I'm going to quote Sir Marshall Mathers the 3rd. [If you don't know him, google him, he's a contemporary writer]
"I've been chewed up and spit out and boo'd off stage."

And I'm sick of it...

This whole blog was to explain that I understand what I’ve gotten myself into. I’m aware that I fell in love, and that things won't always be perfect. But enough is enough. No more talking about how 'we might go on a trip to Miami' or how last year we didn’t go to New Orleans. No more 'maybe we’ll go to Honolulu'… Nobody in Seattle gives a fuck about Honolulu… This year, I want to go to New Jersey. East friggin Rutherford, New Jersey. I want to go see where Snookie used to puke after a solid night of boozing, I want to see where Bon Jovi bought all of his denim from and I want to go to Met Life Stadium. Can we do that, just this once? Who knows, maybe they'll enjoy it.?.?.?

11 games. That means we need to go 13-0 to get us to New Jersey and 14-0 to get us into the history book. If they love me as much as I love them, they’d do this for me…  Go Hawks.