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Let Pete Coach: On Building a Culture of Positivity In the Time of Covid

"I live my life thinking something good is just about to happen to me,"

-Pete Carroll in a 2010 interview with the Seattle Times’ Danny O’Neil

There will come a time when Pete Carroll is no longer the coach of the Seattle Seahawks. A season will arrive when Russell Wilson is no longer the quarterback in the Emerald City. A day will dawn when none of us walk this earth anymore - a thought never more present in many of our minds than in these historic times. And yet, none of this will erase the history that we have all lived; the history that we have all had a hand in writing.

So why do we do it? Why do we get up every day, knowing that it might be our last? I can’t answer that question. Not for myself, and certainly not for anyone else. But I can think of at least one good reason:

"Why not you…?"

Wise words, once spoken by a man to his son. This man was Harrison Wilson, III. His son was Russell Wilson, and I think you know how he answered.

"I’ve learned that possibly the greatest detractor from high performance is fear: fear that you are not prepared, fear that you are in over your head, fear that you are not worthy, and ultimately, fear of failure. If you can eliminate that fear—not through arrogance or just wishing difficulties away, but through hard work and preparation—you will put yourself in an incredibly powerful position to take on the challenges you face."

-Pete Carroll, from Win Forever: Live, Work, and Play Like a Champion

Eternal optimism is a challenging path. Always believing that good is lurking just around the corner challenges our very nature as animals who have spent much of our history surviving by avoiding threats and predicting danger. And yet, herein lies the paradox that is the crux of human nature: we have evolved to the point that our lives do not have to be guided purely by the avoidance of pain, but also by the pursuit of happiness.

I’ve been a Seahawks fan for as long as I have been alive. My dad and I used to go watch training camp, every year, when the team would populate the Eastern Washington University campus and sweat buckets in the dry, arid heat of Cheney, WA. I remember watching Ricky Watters and Joey Galloway. I remember watching guys with names like Matt Hasselbeck, Jon Kitna, and Brock Huard alternating reps at quarterback while I tried to avoid getting bit by fire ants on a grassy hill, unable to move because it was the only shaded spot on a 100+ degree field.

I was born a Seahawks fan, and I will ALWAYS BE A SEAHAWKS FAN. I may loathe to root for certain players, and I may rue the hiring/firing/promotion of certain coaches, but I will never stop being a fan of this team, as long as they reside in Washington and I have breath in my body. In this certainty, I find solace: No matter how many things change in the world around me, this one constant will always remain. But this isn’t my story. This is just preamble to the real meat* of this yarn. (*no animals were harmed in the writing of this article)

"It isn’t about the words you say. It’s about the energetic message you send."

-Pete Carroll

I want to address the proverbial elephant in the room: the end to this Seahawks season was as disappointing as any that I can remember. To see this team lose, at home, to a division rival, was a serrated dagger through our hearts. In a season marred by a global pandemic, the Seahawks started out as a guiding light - a beacon of hope in an otherwise dark time. The offense soared to the greatest of heights. And just as Icarus did before them, they came too close to the sun. But there is a key difference that yields this simile null: Icarus didn’t have Pete Carroll there to throw the challenge flag to allege that the Sun actually encroached on Icarus’s flight path, and therefore he should get another opportunity. Once a cautionary tale of a character destroyed by their own hubris, now a reminder that failure is not the absence of success but rather the refusal to try again. Maybe, just maybe, Icarus should avoid the air altogether next time and instead keep his feet on the ground.

Pete Carroll’s leadership goes beyond his offensive philosophy, which some would call outdated. It extends beyond his defensive scheme, which some would describe as too soft. Pete Carroll radiates energy. Not always positive energy, but the outcome is always positive. We can pine for days, weeks, months, years even, for the post-modern offensive schemes of Andy Reid and Eric Bienoemy of the Kansas City Chiefs, or the suffocating defense of Robert Saleh (himself a branch off Carroll’s tree), but this won’t change the fact that Pete remains one of the most magnetic personalities in professional football - or any sport at any level, for that matter.

When Marshawn Lynch returned late last season to play for the team and the coach who many alleged besmirched his career with a history-altering call in Superbowl XLIX, speculation arose that this was symbolic of old wounds being healed, of hatchets being buried. I would argue, however, that there was nothing to heal. Marshawn Lynch was simply returning to the team where he found his greatest success, to play with some of the players he loved, and have some fun. Simply put, players don’t return to teams they hate to play with coaches they loathe. Marshawn Lynch is a hero who deserves all the credit in the world for everything he has done, on the field AND off of it. And Pete Carroll claims no credit for any of this - he deserves none. And he’d be the first to admit it.

In fact, Pete Carroll is the consummate humble leader. He doesn’t speak about himself or his record with braggadocio. His career speaks for itself. He has created a culture where every single player is given the latitude to be his own best self. And this has not always ended in fairytale fashion. But that is OK. Just as Pete doesn’t credit himself for the actions of others, he casts no aspersions on others’ for their failures. He speaks the truth, and is no stranger to criticism, but he doesn’t dwell on failure. What did Pete say when a certain player famously flipped him the bird while being carted off the field in a tragic end to a great career in Seattle? "This was an earth shattering moment for a kid. He's trying to play this game he loves and all the sudden, this happens again." Pete said that people who were criticizing Thomas "didn’t understand."

"You’ve got to know how you got there so you can repeat it again."

-Pete Carroll

Pete Carroll is the head coach of our Seattle Seahawks. He received an extension this season, and yet, many fans are calling for his head. This has left me wondering… why? What has he done, or not done, that deserves firing? He led the Seahawks to a 12-4 record and their first division title since 2016. In a season marred by a pandemic, where NOT ONE of the seahawks players tested positive for a virus that has infected millions. Because Pete Carroll cares about his players. He never stops believing that every one of them is destined for greatness, and that their time with the Seattle Seahawks is merely one step of their journey. We can complain about his gameday antics - rightfully so. We can wish that he would consider passing the ball more - of course. We can demand that he unleash the Canton-bound Quarterback - because why not. But the one thing that we CANNOT let ourselves do is this: We cannot succumb to the fear.

What little control we have as fans over the game and the team we love, we must exert with the utmost positivity. That means, when we can return to the stadium, and take our seats in the Clink (because I can’t bring myself to call it Lumen… yet), we can scream at every opposing quarterback who lands in Seattle. We can cheer for the Seahawks - win, lose, or draw - and we can be thankful that Pete Carroll is the coach of the team that we root for on Sundays. Until he isn’t anymore. And I can tell you this: that day will come. And when it does, I will shed a tear for Pete. Not one of sadness; not one of regret for the dynasty that almost but never was; not for the losses, the disappointments, or the delays-of-game that should have never happened. It will be for the brief, shining moments of glory; the hugs and high-fives exchanged with friends, family, and strangers that would have never happened otherwise; for the time my friend and I tackled each other in a fit of joy on a beanbag chair after the fail mary, which was the exact moment I knew the Seahawks had something special going (I still say it was the right call); For the Beastquakes; for the Superbowls - YES, BOTH OF THEM. For Pete Carroll’s chewing gum habit, which has pumped more money into the Seattle economy than any megacorporation ever could (source pending); for Russell Wilson, and the Legion of Boom, and Marshawn Lynch, and for every player who has worn the Seahawks uniform since 2010. Because this is what Peteball is all about. It isn’t about running the football, foolishly, to your own demise. No. It’s about always believing that something good is about to happen.


Because, after all… Why not you?