I know it’s just a game/not just a game.

Having a hard time drawing up what it all means, how it all went down.
A week out, and it feels something like a swift version of grief stages only upside down and opposite–>  like-see the bargain’s over and it’s still sinking in; it didn’t really happen.

But it did. To us.

Crave is just not strong enough a word for how much people wanted a championship up in here.

I know it’s just a game, but I know more.  It’s fathers and sons, grandmas and good old friends. It’s 37 years of mostly Kingdome and mostly not. It’s this team, this place, this time. It’s the language and outlook and how its infused itself in homes and workplaces. It’s finally trusting the process. It’s the 12’s experience which I could never fully articulate, you know if you’ve felt it.  Symbiotic now and the lore builds.  It’s Montana and Alaska, mix some SeaTown and P-Town being on the same page for a moment. It’s playing “you be Marshawn I’ll be Russell” in the backyard, and a new princess born into royalty. It’s music and memories and the Immaculate Deflection. It’s hugging a stranger and a cop, sore throats and skipping work for a parade. There’s a hundred story lines I could write about this team and personality(s), it chokes me to think of the millions of story lines that Hawks’ fans and the NW just lived through.

Wherever the history books get stored, we’re in em’ for real now boss. For the most part it’s been a frickin’ pain carrying the memories of being a Seattle sports fan, at times I’ve felt like throwing it all away.  Those pains–> can’t help but get-it, how much sweeter that makes this one taste.

What’s next-   on 3.

Photo by Moonwater