My facebook and twitter feeds are filled with short messages about the NFL’s opening weekend. My phone is buzzing with one word: SEA!â†µ
I know enough to know that I’m meant to reply back with HAWKS! I have a passable knowledge of the sport of football. But when it comes to sitting down and watching a game, well, my heart just ain’t in it.
Does anyone want to come to my apartment and throw a Seahawks watching party? Make a vat of chili, open up the chips, and pass me a few beers? Because I think the noise and excitement would help a bit. I’d learn how to properly taunt the opposition, which is always fun.â†µ
But instead I’m alone and chili-less, feeling a vague sense of unease, the sense that everyone else is off doing something fun and I’ve somehow missed the memo. Don’t worry, though, I’ve still got beer.â†µ
And I’ve still got this much—I’m still Seattle, and I can still say this: SEA! HAWKS!