Katrina, read no farther.
In deference to the two Seahawks fans I've met in my 11 years in Seattle, I've refrained from ranting during the Hawks' playoff run. I'm rooting for them, actually. It's Katrina's team, and I'm delighted for her. Besides that, it's a fine franchise with admirable ownership and players. I'm hoping that success will bring the support they deserve. It's hard to believe that not too long ago, Ken Behring nearly moved them to L.A., only to be thwarted by the NFL and paid to go away by local hero Paul Allen. I opposed that move, voted for their stadium, and rooted for their success in the playoffs. I'm obviously pulling for my boys against them, but if someone else has to win, I hope it's the Hawks. So what's my beef?
Poseurs. They're everywhere now.
To understand how bad the poseurism is, you first how to understand how apathetic this community is. Was. It wasn't hyperbole when I say I've met two Seahawks fans in 11 years. I can't name another soul who's gone to a game, who's worn a sweatshirt, who's died inside when they ultimately lost. That's not what we do in Seattle. Oh sure, there's a stadium full of fans; I just don't know who they are. Sports are just not a part of the consciousness around here. Walking the streets, you'd never even know there was a game that day. Waitresses and clerks don't wear colors on game day, and they sure don't think to ask if you're going to the game. If you make a Seattle sports reference out of context, you're blinked at. There's little appetite for local sports media; there isn't a tenth of what I watch/listen to from Pittsburgh and Columbus, and the local reporters are barely conversant about the sport or the team. When there's a game on, the stores and restaurants and roads are every bit as crowded as when there's not. And last year when the Hawks made the playoffs, the Seattle Times ran a full page spread on how to pretend you've been a Hawks fan all along, right down to memorizing phrases about famous plays of the past.
Why the apathy? Theories abound. There's little history, which is true enough, but it's more true in better sports towns like Charlotte and Jacksonville. People here are largely transplants like myself, and they brought allegiances to other teams with them. Very true. And then there's my personal favorite theory: people here are soulless, joyless fucks who only get excited when they can talk publicly about whatever pretentious trend they're most recently into. Sports are gauche.
Until now. Seattle's going to the Super Bowl, and everyone's suddenly referring to the team as "we." People who voted against stadiums at every opportunity because the tax revenue from sports apparel sales would be better spent on kabbalah-based mass transit are suddenly "we." For some reason, a few have even seen fit to antagonize me about the imminent game between the Steelers and the newly minted "we."
"Name three Seahawks," I'll say.
Right now "we" is a perfect 0-6 on the Three Seahawk Challenge. Not one person who professed to be a huge Seahawk fan has done it. Worse, there's no shame. I asked an unreasonable question.
I heard this delightful bit o'punditry on local radio yesterday:
"So the Seahawks just missed a touchdown. I'm told it's second and goal on the two," he said shakily, like I would say I'm told it's 'the quark-gluon structure of hadrons.'"Which I guess is pretty close. But once again: we just missed a touchdown."
Welcome to my world.