My facebook and twitter feeds are filled with short messages about the NFL’s opening weekend. My phone is buzzing with one word: SEA!
↵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.
↵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.
↵And I’ve still got this much—I’m still Seattle, and I can still say this: SEA! HAWKS!
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