via engineersua.files.wordpress.com (took this picture myself)
A storm lingers in the distance. You can just feel the tenseness in the air, as light breezes of wind seem to rush humidity across your skin, and your hairs stand on end. They can sense something different in the atmosphere- something...electric- the same way your dogs can, as they are running friskily through the yard. You look into the sky and see clouds rushing swiftly over your head. You hear the wind picking up through the rustling trees seconds before you feel it blast across your face. It had been warm and humid outside earlier in the day, but a chill came in on that last gust of wind.
This is not just a storm, it is THE storm. Local news anchors have been clamoring for days warning of the potentials of this beauty. Riding in on a cold front, the cumulonimbus thunderhead has developed into a supercell, as the warm, moist water vapor rises and then cools quickly at the top, falling back down and causing a vicious rotation.
You've moved inside (bringing the dogs in too) to watch the approaching supercell out your window. Leaves from the trees are plastering up against the glass, and small droplets of condensation are falling sideways.
Then it quits.
Everything is eerily still and dead silent. You lean closer to the window, trying to hear something. The western horizon has suddenly been permeated with pitch black darkness. A flash in the distance illuminates a towering thunderhead within the darkness, and an elegant arcus cloud protruding out the front of the approaching storm, and rolling towards you in the sky, almost like one would roll out a red carpet. The thunder rumbles. This one was only a couple of seconds after the flash of electricity. The storm is almost here, and you know it. Across the field, you notice the air looks hazy, and then realize that it is a wall of rain rushing towards your house. You hear the sound of the downpour, almost like TV static, just before it rams against the window, making the outside impossible to see. A brilliant flash of light pierces the wall of rain, and "BOOOOOOOM!" The entire house quakes at how close that thunder was.
As a child, my dream job was to be a weatherman. Weather has always fascinated me, and its sheer beauty and power are a wonder to behold. When storms are coming towards me, I want to sit outside and wait, to feel the static in the air, and feel the rain when that first massive downpour hits. I know its coming, I just don't know when.
Thats how this season has felt for me. After we lost to the Falcons in the playoffs last year, it was almost like that guy on TV telling me there was a storm out in the midwest somewhere, but it would be a couple of days before it got to me in Alabama. I knew something great was coming, but just had to wait. Countless times in that wait, I began to doubt and wonder if the storm would fizzle before it reached me, like so many have before.
But, here it is. The Seahawks are that supercell, and our bye week was the calm before it hits. Russell Wilson is the steady wind that comes with it. You know that wind will blow the entire time the storm is here, but never which direction it will be going. Marshawn Lynch is the rain. Steady, powerful, and beating down on everything in sight. The defensive line and linebackers are our lightning, flashing back and forth across the field, and striking wherever the ball is. And you guessed it, the secondary is the "boom" of the thunder.
Often times, one can shelter well enough to weather a storm like this, but sometimes, in an unpredictable fashion, this storm spawns a vortex. A weapon of pure destruction and chaos. It can't be predicted, or even known how long it will stay. This tornado is our Percy Harvin.
The storm is coming, fellow 12th men, and we are about to witness a sight to behold. Playoffs, here comes the Seattle Seahawks. Are you ready?