Not much to wonder about here. If we win, the Seahawks capture their fourth straight NFC West title. No questions asked.
If we lose, then the open sore remains festering until the end of the season. We grip the armrests of our favorite chairs and wonder why we couldn't have wrapped this up sooner. We agonize about Kurt Warner and, for God's sake, THE EDGE (not the U2 guitarist) stealing our thunder from underneath us while Boldin and Fitzgerald were 50% at best. Then, as is usual, our traditional civic self-doubt creeps in. We go fumbling in the dark for our identity but we can't find it for another five weeks, when we just by chance happen to locate it underneath the loveseat after we finally get around to cleaning our apartments after the big New Year's Eve party we had. And instead of maintaining the momentum of a rather incredible 5-game winning streak, we plunge into the depths of despair, from which we cannot emerge until the Mariners enter another spring training with absolutely nothing to show from the winter meetings, and we just resolve to spend another year drinking microbrews into oblivion and continuing a string of one-night stands with women we'll never see again until they've married promising lawyers and want to rub it in our faces.
So as you can see this is a big game.
Commentary here and at our new Cardinals blog, Revenge of the Birds.