Have We Lost that Losing Feeling?

In prior articles I've detailed the all-too familiar euphoric highs of Seattle Seahawks wins. And the all-consuming depression that cripples me when the Seahawks would lose.

In a win, my usually joke-spitting, calculated persona changes to one of maniacal laughter, psychotic expressions, and primitive facial ticks. After Hawks successes, I find myself chuckling loudly atop my davenport…as if I were confidently awaiting an engine from an airliner to crash through my roof.

Losses would bring on a concavity of despair so consuming, I’d deprive myself of anything sports for at least four days after. Not the type of depression that leads to sudden, unwarranted bouts of anger or violence against associates ala Tony Soprano (remember kids “anger” is one letter from “danger”…don’t throw a “D” on it despite what Rich Boy tells ya’). But depression, so debilitating, all one can do is sob while partaking in Pauly Shore films and crunching on Dorito’s.

Somehow, someway, sometime all of that changed over the past off-season. I no longer ride that roller coaster of emotions every week.

The loss to San Francisco got nothing more than a shrugged acknowledgment of what I had already foreseen. The victory over the bane of my existence, Napoleon’s Denver Broncos, evoked only a confident internal warming. So, what gives? What’s causing my decrease in emotional outbursts?

The first obvious answer would be an increase in my maturity. But given that I recently sang a Teriyaki menu to the tune of “Silent Night” and “Jingle Bells” in a restaurant, despite the annoyance showed by the other patrons…that’d be a resounding “no”.

Have I, as a Seahawks fan, embodied the malaise of a trauma victim? Have my Sunday emotions fallen victim to years of abuse, slights, and inexplicable circumstances? Did Hall’s field goal, Vinny’s TD, Keyshawn’s catch, and finally, SBXL, leave limbic system more barren than RuPaul?

Or did last year's rise to prominence abolish the underdog, no-respect chip on my shoulder enough to make “W’s” and “L’s” in November moot, since there’s no doubt they’ll make the playoffs? Have my goals changed from that of weekly recognition and respect from the national press and peers; to that of silent confidence knowing that the Hawks will be playing in January?

Enough with the Stevens Bashing

In a town where most dynamic on and off field sports heroes have sought greener pastures, Matt Hasselbeck has remained to become to Seattle, what Christopher Walken is to NY…in “King of New York”. He achieved the key to our fine city with not only his game day physical feats, but also additional swagger and charisma. Swagger and charisma, usually saved for other cities and other teams.

Mockingly holding the ball up en route to the end zone. Spiking the ball in a safeties face while questioning their manhood. Aggravatingly stating in front of a 65,000 plus Green Bay fans that “you want the ball and you’re going to score”. All of the above, and other displays of a similar ilk, have only strengthened our endearment to the foliclly inept gunslinger.

That’s why I’m confused over the recent labeling of Jerramy Stevens of a “punk”, cancer, distraction, and/or nuisance.

Sure he’s had struggles dropping the ball as of late. But those struggles don’t necessarily differ, in terms of the number and significance, than ones of Hasselbeck has endured.

Yes, he’s known as a bit of a s&^t-talker, but certainly not rivaling that of other more notable warriors or Sundays.

For those that state he’s a cancer, what’s your proof, or what’s the basis? To my knowledge, no teammate has ever called out Stevens for his antics. Bryce Fisher has never pulled a Strahan.

Much like Hasselbeck, Stevens thrives off of adrenaline produced during and after the play. But unlike Hasselbeck, Stevens apparently isn’t allowed to.

Quick Hits

* The Monday Night Football crew and format is beginning to gain momentum, in my opinion. The lone flaw, as always, being Joe Theismann. As an amateur comedian, I find myself wishing Joe back to the CFL, every time he feels the need to explain a Kornheiser dry, absurd, and sarcastic one-liner. Theismann has the comedic value of cancer, which should disqualify him from holding any entertainment job in this country. When he is funny, it’s only due to the fact he just contradicted himself in back-to-back plays.

* Aside from Theismann’s ineptitude, I found myself laughing out loud in consecutive weeks watching the last two MNF match-ups. The first being when Jimmy Kimmel asked Theismann “How’s the leg?” The second being when the Philly fans booed Jeff Garcia from getting up from an injury. Call Eagle fans what you want – just not inconsistent.

* If my letters to Congress eventually work, and I’m allowed to procreate, I’d have my son or daughter watch game film of Jordan Babineaux so they could learn what angles not to take and how not to tackle.

* The antithesis of Mr. Babineaux would be recently deceased Andre “Dirty” Watters. It saddens me that more wasn’t made of his recent and tragic demise. It’s as if no one really cares, because ESPN didn’t report on it as much as they should have.

* I wish Mike Nolan and Jack Del Rio would’ve taken their old-school suit look to the next level. You know…some real Hank Stram stuff. Next time I want to see cigarettes.

* If I were still in Vegas I’d place money on Vince Young and the Tennessee Titans every week to cover the spread. Not sure how or why, but Young’s insertion as a starter has elevated the play of the entire team. Obviously he was ordered off EBay, because Vince has “it”.

* I’m officially a Romophobe. I can’t stand the coverage and pagan worship of this small town rube, consistently being forced down our collective throats. If the Hawks don’t secure the second seed, then I pray they travel to “Big D” to dethrone everyone’s new king…in front of his own.

* Nice to know the Super Bowl loser's curse is alive and well, in Pittsburgh.

* Darryl Tapp is beginning to show why I was aroused on draft day when we selected him. His relentless attack and hustle is paying dividends. But I have to ask; what took so long Mr. Marshall?

* Anyone notice in Brett Favre’s Prilosec commercial how many footballs are laying on the ground, in the shot where he’s throwing at a tractor reflector as a target? By my count there’s at least eleven…I’m assuming it took him twelve times to hit the mark.

* Much love to Boise State finally making it into a BCS Bowl. This isn’t the first time a small school has fought their way into the joke of a system. In Urban Meyer’s and Alex Smith’s last year at Utah – they too worked their way into the Fiesta. Unlike that Utah team, Boise State and the nation are presented a treat, a real opponent. Go Non-Denver Broncos.

* In what maybe the video clip of year, we see a shamefully drunk Danny Devito as a guest on The View. Even worse than that, is Devito trying to pass off his indiscretion as residual effects from the night before. Sure Danny, you bet!

Mule Sniff

In a decade-stretching series of events, about as unlikely and impossible as me being considered as a host for the 700 Club; the State of Washington has gone from rags to riches as it relates to collegiate basketball.

Washington State has gone from the shame of all major conference states, to arguably the elite state in the country for producing winners, talent, and NBA draft picks. This year may end up being the foundation of even greater future successes, as it’s highly likely four NCAA teams from this state will have tickets punched for the big dance.

Udub has the making of an under the radar Final Four sleeper with a dreamy combination of outside shooting and 7’ presence. Gonzaga is Gonzaga. Bennett “Jr.” has last years frustrating Cougars squad playing well, including pulling off a key win over Gonzaga last night. And Eastern Washington University is stacked with enough talent to dominate the Big Sky, including a NBA first rounder in Randy Stucker.

It’ll only get better in the long term as Seattle University is planning on entering the Division-I fray, shortly. Including a possible inclusion into the “Jesuit” league the WCC.

This week’s sniff goes to Dan Monson, Mark Few, Nate Robinson, Brandon Roy, Spencer Hawes, and the countless others that are contributing to this basketball resurgence.

Throat Punch

It’s becoming so clear even Stevie Wonder could see it. Clay Bennett is going to give this region a fair shake in keeping the Seattle Supersonics local. He’s hired the best of the best for planning and designing the new arena – and is open to any and all ideas.

It’s with that; I’ve become alarmed at the meager Key Arena crowds and their generally uninterested energy at the games. It’s an absolute shame that sports fans have ditched the previously trendy club, in their time of need. Even more alarming is the extremely short-sided and arrogant stance on the Sonics stadium deal by Hawks and Mariners fans. How soon they forget where their stadium’s come from (assuming these fans were there in the bad times). This weeks punch goes to those uninterested fans in attendance, short-sided Mariners and Hawks fans, and fans that have given up on the Sonics.

Right, wrong, or indifferent the Supersonics are the only perennial winner in this region. “Down” years usually only last a year. They always provide exciting and dynamic personalities and moments. Even if you’re not a basketball fan, just a sports fan, or you just care about the welfare and culture of this community, do the right thing and commit yourself to attending at least one game.

One game, two tickets, it’s not that much to ask.

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