Seattle, Washington State, USA – January 19, 2014
Take any combination of blue, green and gray, favourite colours of mine. This day has them all.
Alone in a hotel room, I awaken before daybreak to the sound of staff preparing breakfasts, and, on the TV, to reporters talking over the one story that dominates this Sunday like no other in this city’s history.
I arise to pack, unwilling to complete the chore. Ten days have gone so quickly! Yet pack I must, there’s a flight home to end my day. I dress for warmth, layer upon layer to combat near freezing temperatures outside. One item covers all the others – the beloved blue football jersey.
Most of the hotel staff – and many guests - are wearing this jersey too, for today is the most important sports event in the history of Seattle … and I have a ticket to the game! Breakfast is consumed with hurried relish, many things to do and see even before arriving in the stadium this afternoon.
First stop is a treat. Air and Space Museum. They have a Concorde! The original 747. And an old Air Force One! It’s so small, but I manage to find JFK’s seat … And there’s a Blackbird … and so many others. I spend hours looking over the history of how local timber merchant William Boeing founded his aircraft company here.
Downtown Seattle is heaving with cold, but excited people. Blue jerseys and flags everywhere, one subject on everyone’s lips in the queues for Starbucks coffee (free today to customers wearing the blue jersey, of course!)
I visit Pike Place Market. It’s one of the world’s best for arts, crafts and – of less interest to the departing visitor – fresh produce. Peppers in perfect condition are laid out on the stalls looking as if they have been individually polished. It’s a market and a tourist attraction and a viewpoint, for, from one it’s many restaurants overlooking the harbour, I enjoy the sights and sounds of the waterway watching ships and ferries making their way on a calm sea. I contemplate gray clouds, green forests and the sharp blue colour of the water – these are the everyday colours of Seattle that so define it.
South of downtown, located amongst warehouses and railway sidings, is my objective. The beloved stadium. It will be a full house - tickets sold out in 10 seconds flat. Fans expectant of victory, ready to roar their support for their (American) football team, their Seattle Seahawks. It’s what they call a Championship game – win and they will advance to play in the final, the Superbowl. Lose, and they will go … no, they won’t lose. Not going to happen today, not in my mind.
Upon entry, do check the strength of your vocal chords (and protect your ears) they say. That’s not idle talk. They have just set a Guinness world record for loudest sports fans here – twice in a matter of weeks – and they are very proud of it!
It’s 3.30pm. Kickoff time. I’ve supported this team for 32 years, attended many games flying across from Europe, but have never experienced an atmosphere quite like this. Electrifying. They choose a local dignitary or former player to raise the blue flag before kickoff, this time it’s the team owner who steps up. Paul Allen - of Microsoft fame - he built the Stadium, he kept the team in Seattle when others wanted it to leave, he chose the current management. It’s his moment, and over 67,000 people scream their appreciation for him and his achievements.
The opponents strike first, Seattle is rocked back on its heels. Slowly, oh so slowly, game balance is restored, but the opponents keep putting themselves in front. Halftime. They have a rapper on stage, I can’t understand a word of his singing, but the locals love it. I go to find a food stall on a concourse and look out across the motorways surrounding the Stadium. No traffic. All of Seattle is either here, or glued to their TVs.
The second half starts, and out of the blue, Seattle strike to equalize. For me, it’s a moment to “go crazy”, to run through the concourse, arms outstretched like an airplane, to have to freedom to jump for joy (and to not worry about bumping other people in their seats!). I make my way back to my seat, adrenalin is getting the better of me … it’s a long climb.
Back and forth, ebb and flow, the game becomes a battle, the battle becomes a war of attrition between two very similar teams. Seattle edge ahead. Time is running out. The opponents have one last chance to score, they march their team down the field to 18 yards from the endzone. If they can get the football into that endzone, they will win. 30 seconds left.
6.46pm. I can think of nothing but prayer. I don’t belong here, I think to myself. I have no connections to Seattle, except for a few acquaintances, fellow fans, whom I’ve met over my years of travel here. Please God, let them win. Let them win -not for me- but for these fans, for the people of Seattle … they are good people and they deserve this!
Fans are screaming support for the defense, it’s a cauldron of noise.
The enemy attempt a pass to the corner of the endzone. The football is arching through the air, and suddenly in a game with 22 players, only two matter: The enemy’s receiver will try to catch the ball in the endzone and score. The Seattle defender, the “cornerback”, will attempt to prevent the catch. They are both running at full speed, looking back towards the football, determining the best moment to strike.
Gettysburg, Pennsylvania, USA – September 2013
It’s a battlefield, a monument, a cemetery and a place of history. America was saved here, at the cost of tens of thousands of lives. Every square inch is historic, and revered as such. I’m touring the area, leaving the museum, when an elderly Park Ranger approaches me. “Sir”, he asks politely, “what’s the name of that cornerback?” He’s seen the team colours I’m wearing, and I know the answer … I know his name … “Richard Sherman”. To which the Ranger replies with sadness in his voice “he cost me all my fantasy points”.
Indeed, Richard Sherman from California, brash graduate of Stanford University, is having a stellar season in the Seattle Seahawks defense and making sure that all of the sports fans of the USA know about it.
Seattle, Washington State, USA – January 19, 2014
Four months later, I’m watching that cornerback Richard Sherman running two steps behind the enemy’s receiver, and as they enter the endzone, they both leap. Two hands up for the receiver, to best catch the ball. A leap in vain. There’s no football. For Sherman has timed his own leap to perfection, deflecting the ball away with one hand, tipping it up into the air, on an arc away from the receiver, and into the grateful grasp of another Seattle defender, Malcolm Smith. Game over. A Stadium, the city of Seattle, the state of Washington, erupt with ecstatic joy.
One quiet fan is running away from the bedlam. Down the stadium stairs, into the streets. I’m happily escaping Seattle as all others are celebrating, onto the rail link, down to the airport … I have a plane to catch, a 10 hour flight home … my day is complete, an ambition as a sports fan fulfilled. I’ve seen the Seattle Seahawks win a Championship.
And Richard Sherman, man of the moment, is climbing onto the fans in the stands, over a Union Jack painted in green and blue Seahawks colours, the flag of the UK Seahawks fan club, celebrating his meeting with history.
Nicholas Catephores
Marvelous account.
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