Eight weeks ago, right before Halloween, a six-foot-three-inch, dreadlocked Harry Potter stepped to the podium at the Seattle Seahawks’ practice facility and delivered a weekly press conference on behalf of defensive back Richard Sherman. From the cloak to the spectacles to the wand he carried in his hand, the costume was convincing enough that onlookers couldn’t help but laugh.
How many professional athletes could have this much fun with their obligatory meeting with the press? How many celebrities would subject themselves to the silliness of a holiday for children by dressing up as a character from their favorite fantasy novel? This was Richard Sherman at his most human and his very best – charming, hilarious, witty, and fun.
It’s an unpopular take: We’re just happy to be here.
Seriously? Who on earth is just happy to be anywhere? That’s not how society works. We set goals for ourselves. We tell prospective employers where we hope to be in five years, when really, all we want is a job. We want more than what we have, no matter how much we’ve got, and above all else we need to be successful. We can’t just be here. Who does that?
You have to admit, though, you’re happy. At the very least, moderately pleased.
Just look how far we’ve come. Look at where we were only a few short years ago. We sucked. We were absolutely terrible. We got our asses kicked by nearly every opponent we faced. I know. I watched it all go down.
Some grew up in an era of Rose Bowls and Orange Bowls. Others still were fortunate enough to witness a championship. Me? I got the cringe-worthy Tyrone Willingham years. Don’t act like you’re not impressed.
Don’t take your small children to see R-rated movies. It’s a bad idea.
Also, it’s supposed to snow in Seattle this week. We’ll see about that.
The Mariners are making moves at the Winter Meetings, acquiring a pitcher who actually threw a no-hitter in the major leagues.
Will the Seahawks upgrade their offensive line this offseason, or instead bring back the likes of Kam Chancellor and Steven/Stephen Hauschka? Can they somehow find a way to do it all?
Plus, above all else, the Huskies are Pac-12 Champions and on their way to the College Football Playoff. Our entire crew is excited, even the resident Duck — who also happens to be celebrating the hiring of Oregon’s new football coach, Willie What’s-His-Name.
The Washington Huskies are one game away from their first ever berth in the College Football Playoff and we’re here to celebrate their accomplishments through sips of beer. Yay, Huskies.
Down in Oregon, however, things aren’t nearly as rosy. Which coach, exactly, will inherit a 4-8 Ducks team heading into 2017?
Plus, the Seahawks fell victim to a trap game on Sunday, but look to rebound this week against Cam Newton and the Panthers. And the Mariners have kept their name in the news all offseason with a flurry of trades.
All that, plus the best Christmas movies you need to watch this December on this week’s Karate Emergency!
Don’t deny it. Don’t hide from it. We elected that guy. How did this happen? And what’s next for us? Shit just got real.
Assemble your posses, because we’re in this together, just like LeBron.
Russell Wilson’s got his crew looking good, and he’s added a new team on the side, too. First football, then baseball, now the Seahawks quarterback tries his hand at basketball. Do we even deserve this guy anymore?
Plus, the reintroduction of Singlehawk, and a whole slew of Tindermonials to get you through the week.
All that and more on this week’s Karate Emergency!
The Sonics Arena news is top of mind, and being the basketball fanatics we are, it’s our No. 1 priority to dissect every angle of the ongoing Chris Hansen/City of Seattle soap opera. Will things finally work out for us this time? Are Hansen and the NBA league office more aligned than ever before? Will the city council finally do the right thing?
Plus, we evaluate the worst-best football game ever, and Slickhawk has fallen victim to a terrible plague.
There is no foolishness like that borne from love. Love blinds us, weakens our souls, cripples our ability to think clearly. We can’t reason when in love. We fail to rationalize. We are at the mercy of a knee-buckling, heart-fluttering, lip-quivering emotion. We’re happy, sad, angry, elated, and deflated all at once. Love, without question, is the most painfully thrilling sentiment of an otherwise immaterial existence.
Perhaps equally as absurd as love, itself, is the notion that our inferior beating hearts could be bamboozled into dedicating such a powerful feeling to an entity as impassive as a ball. A stupid ball. That bounces and bounces until it is launched at a cylinder outfitted with cloth netting, then bounces some more.