I told you we’re hungry. What, you didn’t believe me? Surely you believe me now, having defeated the reigning Super Bowl Champs in the most glorious, nail-biting, Seattle-like fashion. I’ve watched Marshawn Lynch’s half-dozen-tackle-breaking-67-yard-run at least 10 times since Saturday, and you know what? It never gets old. But then, the greatest feats in sports history seldom do.
But the game was bigger than Lynch, bigger than the best performance we’ve seen out of Hasselbeck in god knows how long (Do we have Charlie Whitehurst, coming off that playoff-clinching victory, breathing down his neck to thank for that?), bigger than our record, whatever it was. It was about a team with a lot of heart. It was about the city that loves them, and how that love makes us so damn hungry. Hungry enough that we caused an earthquake cheering them on. It doesn’t get much hungrier than that.
No one thought we could win. No one, that is, except us. We knew we could win. We really, really did:
“Nobody believes in you but you and the people in this room,” safety Lawyer Milloy told his teammates in the locker room before the game. “If you want to be champions, we have a chance to do it on that field.”
“We kind of expected to win,” Carroll said. “I know that sounds crazy, but we did expect to win. The fact that it happened, it’s just kind of like, we want to take it in stride and go to the next one.”
You see, that’s what really matters. Not only did we think we could win, we didn’t care that nobody else did.
So Sunday, we go to Chicago. We’re the underdogs by 10 in gambling speak. We won’t have Qwest. We haven’t won a road playoff game in 27 years, and we suffered a classic Seattle-style loss in overtime against the Bears in 2006.
But we did beat the Bears back in October. And we have a team with heart, determination, belief, and humility. A team that is still hungry. Because the only thing hungrier than a losing team trying to prove they belong in the playoffs is that same team fresh off a victory against the defending Super Bowl Champs.
Everyone else can just keep on shit-talking. Because if there’s anything the Seahawks proved last weekend, it’s that they can’t hear it.