On February 2nd, 2014 I sort of felt like an immigrant who was finally getting his U.S. citizenship after years of living, working, and socializing in America. As if I had moved here decades ago on a student visa and then finally working and studying my ass off for a long time so that I may call myself an "American" and never have to leave unless I wanted to. On paper, this is the best day of my life.
But unless you're a caricature of a young couple on the beach with overgrown front teeth riding a mini-unicycle, life doesn't transpire on paper.
Had the Seahawks beaten the Broncos on a 23-yard touchdown run by Russell Wilson as time expired from three seconds to two seconds to one seconds to none seconds, or a 55-yard field goal by Steven Hauschka, or even another tip drill by Richard Sherman and those meddling kids in the Legion of Boom, then perhaps I wouldn't consider Seattle's first championship "the greatest thing that ever happened to me as a football fan*."
I just can't get past the truth, which is that the post-Super Bowl feeling I had was more of a "this is such an awesome fact" than a "I'm dead from dehydration because all of the liquids left my body at once." And so I waited.
Maybe on February third it would hit me. No? Maybe on February fourth. Maybe during the parade. Maybe I'll just be strolling along all "tra la la" and then it'll be like coming across Howard the Duck on television and remembering that you used to watch this movie six times per day and feel awesome about it, but it's been 20 years since your last viewing and now you're just sitting there engrossed, elated, and feeling the same amount of innocence and lack of responsibility as you did when you were 10.
There have been times over the last six months when I've fondly pondered back on the fact that the Seahawks actually won the Super Bowl last year. That they are literally the champions right this second. That nobody will ever be able to take that away from the 2013 team, and it's forever etched in NFL history that they might even be the most successful defense of all time. That's amazing and it does make me feel good, but as I sit here and think about the approaching 2014 season, another feeling crosses over me.
I'm still always happier to be watching football than to be remembering it.
Perhaps that short moment of complete gratification I was waiting for was never meant to be. Yes, if the Seahawks had beaten the Broncos in the same fashion that they had beaten the 49ers two weeks earlier or the Patriots in 2012, then I would have lost my shit. I would have lost it so hard that I'd have to go around the neighborhood stapling pictures of my shit on telephone poles to find it again. But the fact that it was actually for a championship would be a red herring to the reality that I was going crazy because the Seahawks had won.
I lost my shit completely in those other games against San Francisco and New England. I was full of more happiness on those days than I can even comprehend and neither of those outcomes was for a Super Bowl championship. When they dominated Denver in Super Bowl XLVIII it was fully gratifying from the standpoint that everything we said would happen actually did and that we could actually relax during the biggest game of our lives thirty seconds into the second half, but if it wasn't the Super Bowl, it may have become as forgettable as those many other times in the last two seasons that the Seahawks dominated great teams. Hell, Seattle is probably bored with how often they've proven people wrong by now.
At the end of the day, what I really want... is to see the Seahawks play football. I haven't been able to do that since February 2nd, 2014. And for that reason, today... Today I am feeling exactly what I've been waiting to feel.