The Sports Guy weighs in with his take: The Seahawks are advancing to the Super Bowl, but will they be able to overcome their character concerns in time to win it all?
Some days it is a struggle for me just to wake up and sit in front of my typewriter.
I am an old man, and old men like to do things a certain way. I believe in duty, responsibility, and good home cooking. If there is a fence that needs mended, I'm your man. If you need a garbage disposal fixed, I'll do it but please get out of the kitchen and don't step within twenty feet of any light switches. I guess that's just the way my daddy raised me: take care of your actions and act with care.
That's why I was sick to my stomach to see the Seahawks advance to the Superbowl in the way they did. With all their fanfare and excessive celebration.
I felt conned by their confetti. Bamboozled by their balloons. Is this really the team I want to rally for? A team that rubs their victory in the FACES of their opponents? A team that needs such tick-tack triteness like a trophy to to make them feel better than others?
You won with a P-A-S-S...
What happened to winning with C-L-A-S-S?
Ever heard of my friends RESTRAINT and COMPOSURE?
Confetti? More like thug-fetti. I guess that's just what young me...BOYS need these days.
My daddy was fond of saying: If you can't win without opening your mouth, then you better just lose. He never lost a game in his life. I can remember one hot and slick night back out in the country, we were all sitting around a table in the kitchen after supper, playing a few rounds of Boggle. My grandma was mouthin' and mouthin' about how her friend Agnes was the best. My pappy looked her dead in her one good eye, and scored eleven points off the word "Quagmire".
That sure shut up the old battleaxe.
And did he say a word? No. Did he need CONFETTI dropped from the ceiling? No.
He stood up, stood his ground, and cleaned off the table. Like a MAN.
So how about it, Seahawks? How about just winning a game, JUST ONCE, and not cheering? Maybe try to stop jumping in the air like Glory Boyz, and just go grab a seat on the pine. Win with dignity. But Sports Guy, you say, they are just young twenty-somethings who have a chance to play the game of their lives.
Fie on that. Fie on you.
Men are not born, they are crafted in the burning hot crucible of life. They are seared and scorched and scorned and scratched and scathed and scattered and reassociated into the men that they need to become, and right now, when I look at these Seahawks...all I see are a bunch of spoiled children.
Oh, you need a trophy because you won a game? Go home to mommy.
Countless men have bathed in the sweet praise of crowds without opening their mouths and spewing words all over themselves. Do you think Peyton Manning needs awards and titles and ribbons in his hair to feel validated? No, he lives for the game. He lives for the MEN on his left and other left, who fight and die beside him on that sanctified GRIDIRON ALTAR. He is a symbol for the American.
Cassius Clay is a man you can allow your boys to look up to. He was a fighter unmatched in the ring of boxing and the ring of life. Pound-for-pound he morally outweighed all who opposed him, and he did so by walking through life with respect for his peers. Did he need to put on a show? No. Did he need to belittle the achievements of others? No. Did he need to use racist remarks to get his point across about other fighters, like Joe Frazier? No.
He won with C-L-A-S-S.
Michael Jordan is the greatest MAN to ever pick up a basketball and then put that basketball into an apple barrel. He is widely regarded as a pretty good player. Did he need to berate his peers on or off the court? No sir, he defended the galaxy from a horde of body-snatching aliens without ever saying a bad word about anybody. He was kind to a fault, often letting other players score so they didn't seem so bad. And he was gracious and humble as all hell when he ascended to Valhalla, the immortal NBA Hall of Fame.
Tom Brady, Larry Bird, Shannon Sharpe, Money Mayweather, Gary Payton, Pennywise the Clown, Charles Barkley, John Rocker, Mussolini, Jim McMahon, Reggie Miller, Deion Sanders, Wes Welker, and Jake the Snake. What do these REAL MEN have in common? They are amazing at their craft, and did so with the silent will of a boa constrictor.
But these Seahawks...
With their electric green.
With their excessive celebrations.
With their L.O.B. gang signs.
They are an epidemic, and I feel ASHAMED to be counted among people who casually watch them twice a year.
Win with dignity. Win with respect for your fellow players. Be a man and let Crabtree catch a ball on you once in awhile. It is SELFISH to try and knock them all away, for what? For your own personal GLORY, that's what. A real teamplayer, a real MAN would let an opponent catch a few balls here and there.
A real human being and a real hero? Colin Kaepernick. This obviously Polish individual is such an old school throwback type of player, that he doesn't even believe in the forward pass. What did he do after he won the game last night? He walked off the field, not a word spoken, like a man. He put on his ear protectors so he could better hear those around him, and quietly walked towards his victory bus.
So yes, fellow Seahawks fans. Kaepernickel is a man.
He's a man, he's a man, he's a maaaan.
And I will tell everybody.
Stop listening to the adulation of the crowd, and start listening to Project Pat or something. Get your mind right, Thughawks.
Before I write it for you.