The Terrell Owens story, one which we were all riveted by and obsessed with, not to mention, one which was founded and relevant, has ended with a kazoo. Owens signed with the Bengals yesterday. Cincinnati city officials have cordoned off a three mile radius around Paul Brown Stadium and deemed the area harmful to woman and child (wakka wakka, they’re all criminals, you see).â†µ
What does this mean for Seattle? Well, fewer sit-ups in the driveway, though I contribute my 16 every other morning. More touches for Golden Tate, Mike Williams and maybe Deon Butler and Deion Branch. Fewer dewy-eyed accusations volleyed at Matt Hasselbeck. More of that dreaded East-coast bias, as the national media is now much less likely to hang “Live Nude” signs from Seahawks practices.â†µ
Mostly it means the last scaly tendril of the off-season has retreated and we can soon, oh so very, very soon, begin concentrating on football again. About this time every year, and more so every year, I get an unhealthy jones for the pigskin. And it’s about to rain down on us in all its preseason glory.