The Seattle Seahawks Won The Super Bowl. Made Me Think of 1994.

Photo by Rattlhed

I Moved to Seattle 20 Years Ago

In case you missed it, Seattle won Super Bowl XLVIII yesterday. Also, here in New Jersey it is snowing. Again.

Those two things got me thinking about 1994. 1994 was a big year for me as I moved out to Seattle with CoolMom so that we could attend graduate school at the University of Washington (UW, pronounced "U-Dub"). It was also the worst, most snow-filled winter I can remember.

The early part of the year saw snowstorm after snowstorm, the last one dropping 2.8" of snow on the area on March 18th. 53.2" of snow fell that year, making 1994 the snowiest year in over 30 years. CoolMom and I were living in Hoboken; and, for the first three months of the year, parked cars were just icy lumps on either side of the street. I guess those people didn't need to drive as much as they thought they did.

We'd both applied to Ph.D. programs in economics. Determined to stay together and not do the long-distance thing, we ended up at UW because that was where we both got accepted and received funding. We could have stayed in New York, which would have meant a big tuition bill for one or both of us; but the idea of moving out to Seattle appealed to both of us for reasons beyond the financial or the relative strengths of the various economics programs. And I was ready to get out of the area after the horror of that winter.

So, in around August I guess, we moved west. We rented an apartment that was bigger and about 1/3 the price of anything we could have gotten in New York (Turns out we were paying more than almost all of our classmates). We had a car in CoolMom's red Tercel hatchback ("The Pod") that we could actually use to cart groceries back from the supermarket, and we started our program at the U.

We spent five years in Seattle and fell in love with the place. We fell in love with the scenery, the coffee, the wine, the beer, the food, the people. I never fell in love with the sports teams. More on that in a minute.

That first year was not easy, though. None of it. It was my first significant amount of time away from the East Coast. We were back in school after a few years and navigating a still young relationship. People often expressed disbelief that we'd turned down other programs to go to UW, but we wanted to be together. Also, if I'd had to do it on my own, I have no doubt that I would have flunked out quickly. As it is, I never got past a Masters and what they call ABD (All But Dissertation), which isn't a real thing; while CoolMom buckled down and became Dr. CoolMom.

My relationship with Seattle sports teams was a complicated one when we lived there. Actually, no. It was quite simple. I hated them.

During the mid-90s, when MLB still used the balanced schedule (AL teams played each other somewhere around 12 times per year, I think), there was a pretty significant rivalry between the Yankees and Mariners. I went to lots of M's / Yankees games at the dreary Kingdome; and many of them were good, old American League marathons. I even saw Ken Griffey, Jr.'s first-ever walk-off home run, hit against Yankee closer John Wetteland; and, of course, there were the playoffs in 1995. The M's had grown to be a thorn in the side of the Yankees; so, by the transitive property of sports hatred, I hated all Seattle teams. CoolMom never got it.

I did love our time in Seattle, though. It remains one of my two favorite cities in America, and it's where CoolMom and I officially decided we'd make this a forever thing between her and me. But grad school ended, and it was kind of a foregone conclusion that we'd come back to the New York Metro area. We've been back to Seattle maybe twice since 1999.

I actively rooted for the Seahawks yesterday. I guess the return by MLB to the unbalanced schedule combined with 15 years of being among, mostly, like-minded fans has softened my position on Seattle's teams. More than that, though, whenever I think about our time in that city -- particularly our decision in 1994, after that horrible winter, to take the leap and move out there -- I'm grateful. CoolMom and I are together, twenty years later, partly because of what we shared and worked through in Seattle.

CoolMom loves the place. I've never seen her root as hard for a non-Olympic sporting event as she did yesterday. She often talks about bringing the cooldaughters out there for a trip, showing them where Mom and Dad lived before they came along. Sometimes we talk about what it would be like to live there again, but we've got way too many attachments here now to consider really leaving.

They almost never get snow like this, though.

Built To Spill aren't from Seattle. They're from Boise, but this is from one of my favorite albums of 1994.

What Does Mike V Think Of... (Warning: Sports-related Post)

Mike V and his dad

...The Giants' 0-4 Start

My parents moved us to New Jersey from Brooklyn in 1975. I guess for my first few years in New Jersey, I still felt like a New Yorker. So much so that, when the New York Giants moved from New York to New Jersey in 1976 and continued to refer to themselves as "New York," I developed a strong dislike for them. When my beloved Jets made the same move from Shea Stadium in 1984, I justified my continued dislike for the Giants by the fact that the Jets had to play in a stadium called "Giants Stadium."

Well, in the years since the Giants' move to New Jersey, I've witnessed four Giants' Super Bowl victories (one that ruined the Patriots' undefeated regular season, which was cool with me) and four Jets' AFC Championship Game losses. It's been a struggle.

Today, with the first quarter of the NFL season complete and the Jets sitting at a solidly mediocre 2-2, the Giants are an extremely disappointing 0-4. I couldn't resist, therefore, giving Mike V of The Everymen -- one of the biggest Giant fans I know -- a chance to vent his frustration.

He vents, but he also makes some good points about what it means to be a fan.

CDM: What do you think of the Giants' 0-4 start?

MV: Last week, as I sat in the stands at Charlotte's Bank Of America Stadium, proudly festooned in my Giants hat and Victor Cruz jersey, ignoring the taunts of the meager Panthers fan base (meaning the stadium was half full and half of that half was Giants fans), watching the Giants get absolutely embarrassed by what is, on paper, a lesser team in their sparkly silver and neon blue, I came to a realization. Maybe it's not bad breaks or injuries. Maybe it's not something that can be fixed. Maybe these Giants just suck. It's a harsh thing to accept as, whether or not they've made the playoffs, won the division, finished above .500, etc. the GMen haven't just flat out sucked since the Ray Handley/Dan Reeves era. I'm talking Dave Brown. I'm talking Jarrod Bunch. I'm talking Danny fucking Kanell.

The Giants of the aughts, while never dominant, were always one or two breaks away from something special. If those breaks rolled their way, they were on their way to success, be it Super Bowl appearances (and wins, ahem) or just playoff runs. But today, now, sitting at 0-4, arguably the worst team in the NFL, the Giants can't blame bad breaks or an injury plagued preseason. They can only blame themselves. They can only come to their own realization that, maybe, they just are not that good.

They can't run. They can't block. They can't pressure the QB. They can't cover. They made a very mediocre Cam Newton look like the superhero he claims to be. They have a top five quarterback playing like a rookie because his line can't hold a block for more than a second and a half. They have three tight ends who couldn't complete a single block for David Wilson to convert on 3rd and 1. They CAN'T CONVERT ON THIRD DOWN (1-13 against the Chiefs I believe was the stat line). They can't get off the field when defending a 3rd down. They have some of the worst offensive play calling I've ever seen. Kevin Gilbride seems to be throwing darts at a board: 3rd and 15. Draw play. 3rd and 1. Deep to Cruz. Coughlin is too stubborn to realize that he needs to let David Wilson learn from his mistakes and become the special player he truly can be. It's not like they have anything to lose. Perry Fewell can't figure out how to get JPP or Justin Tuck to the quarterback. Steve Weatherford can't punt the ball out of bounds. I COULD FUCKING GO ON!

Two Super Bowls in five years can do a lot of things, most of them good. But what's bad about having such nigh-unparalleled success (four Super Bowls, five NFC Championships, two SBs in five years, the greatest upset of all time) is the scoundrels, the fair weather fans that it brings out of the woodwork.

Now I do believe that the Giants have one of the strongest and most loyal and true fan bases in the NFL, however there will always be fair weather fans. There will always be people who wanna party in the salad days, but couldn't care less in the dark days. And seasons like this are for those people. Seasons like this are when we see who still watches every snap of every game, even when the idea of a winning season is long gone. Seasons like this remind us why we love the Giants so much. It's easy to root for a winner. But it's better to root for a loser.

So even if the Giants go 0-16 this year I'll sit, for the next 13 weeks, Giants hat and Cruz jersey, screaming at the TV. Screaming at Coughlin to give Wilson the fucking ball. Screaming at Gilbride to be less predictable. Screaming at someone to protect our billion dollar quarterback. But knowing full well that this to shall pass, because the Giants are always just one break from turning it around.

And I'll remember that it could be worse: I could be a Jets fan.