Breda Report: Believe it!

Seattle Seahawks fans now find themselves in a strange, but glorious, new world. No longer the tail-end of the joke but the toast of the town. Hell is colder than Greenland, pigs are sprouting wings. The Seattle Seahawks are going to the Super Bowl.

How do I begin?

Okay, let’s start with this: I’m sitting down to my computer at 2:36am Tuesday morning, still trying to catch my breath after my team that I have loved dearly since 1976 has finally made the trip every diehard has been dreaming about since, well…Forever.

Our Seattle Seahawks have finally made it to the Super Bowl.

No, that’s neither misprint nor mistake, you read that correctly.

Our Seattle Seahawks have finally made it to the Super Bowl.

So here I am, pushing 3:00 in the morning, two days removed from the grandest moment of our Seahawks lives. I can barely keep up with the media push…It’s all so surreal to me. Am I honestly treading behind Seahawks coverage? Can it be that there’s not enough time in my day to watch every news segment on TV, read every media piece on the Internet, read every relevant post on Seahawks.NET about the NFL team I have adored since I was seven years old?!!?

Perhaps I have died and nobody has told me just yet. So, this is what Heaven feels like.

When I sat down to begin the most important Breda Report of my life, I thought I would scower the Web to ground myself. After all, left to my own devices right now I’m apt to jump up and down on my keyboard like a monkey given a fresh banana…

HSH)$&&%asdgujare ~!#@$#@%#^(((ewt!!!PHOOT!


So I found myself going to the Seattle Times website. One of the photos shows coach Mike Holmgren smiling amidst a sea of blue and green ticker tape. As I sat there for a few moments myself smiling back towards an image and reflecting on a season I could only pray for since the day Holmgren arrived seven years ago…

Magic, once again, happened.

In a moment that may only make sense to the diehard among me, I talked to that photo.

I merely looked at it, with great respect and reverie, quietly muttering these simple words;

“Thank you coach. Now finish the deal.”

But it wasn’t my speaking to a static image within my computer screen that should raise eyebrows…No, in fact it was the celestial answer I received almost instantly.

The moment I said those words, I saw the brightest shooting star soar across the sky from my large stairwell window just to the left of my vision.

I laughed. What else could I do at this point? After all, I have spent the last 48 hours of my life living in ecstasy. So many moments of my life having been filled up with torture by non-believers and antagonists was finally erased at Qwest Field under national lights and the loudest crowd I have ever heard in my entire football life.

It’s ironic that I now walk into stores and places where locals assume I am the bandwagon fan. Little do they know that I have been wearing Seahawks gear pretty much since I was seven-years-old and I am now 37-years-of-age. So let them do the math.

That’s thirty years invested in what would amount to be the longest bandwagon ever.

I’ll never forget the time I walked into a grocery store in Queen Anne Hill (North Seattle) a couple of years ago. I was wearing a Seahawks cap per usual…I don’t remember exactly our record at the time but I do know we were actually doing fairly good. Now keep in mind, this is in Seattle…So it’s my turn at the checkout, and the lady looks at me and says…“You’ve got to be kidding, right?”

I said, “About what?”

She laughs and says, “Well, the Seahawks!”

I looked at her as if a fart broke out in church.

“What is THAT supposed to mean?!?” I said deliberately.

At this point there were at least 6 very nervous-looking people standing in line behind me wondering if I was about to make the evening news for punching a short, paunchy single mother of three squarely in the jaw.

I didn’t of course, but I did smirk and say something lame and walked to my car wishing I could have had the wit and bravado to really give her a piece of my mind. Instead, I sheepishly drove off, a part of me hating my lack of intrepidity, and even cursing the team I loved so much for making me look a fool - especially in our hometown of all places.

My how times have changed. I wouldn’t be surprised in the least bit to find that same lady still working the check-out, except this time wearing a Seahawks hat.

So here we are. The evening news looks like an hour-long sports segment. Phone calls and emails from old friends, some who I haven’t seen in years congratulating me as if I was the one tossing touchdowns to Darrell Jackson and Jerramy Stevens.

The taste is so delicious, I’m afraid to swallow in fear of losing the flavor.

This city is alive again with Seahawks fever. The entire Pacific Northwest is beaming with blue and green pride. Many of the national media “experts” are silently shaking their heads wondering how that little team with hardly any history to speak of who resides somewhere south of Alaska…is in the Super Bowl.

Well, believe it. Our time has finally arrived.

Just be sure to enjoy and savor the moment for as brilliant and bright as it is right now, it will pass quickly…

…Like a shooting star streaking across a Pacific Northwest sky.

Todd Breda is the Owner and Creative Director of Seahawks.Net. If you would like to e-mail Todd, send it to: Top Stories