Sing It From the Top of Mount Rainier: The Seahawks Are Playoff Winners
SEATTLE -- Way to ruin a script going on 22 years, Seattle. Your team was supposed to be soft, squeezably soft, able to fold in any playoff game in any stadium, in any year.
Your sorry Seahawks fell apart against St. Louis at home last season and lost a thriller in Green Bay two years ago. You went through an 11-year drought between 1988 and 1999 without a playoff appearance. Your sad postseason history featured 10 measly games over three decades, three of which your team won but none since the Reagan administration.
Between 1983 and 1987, Joe Gibbs coached as many playoff games as the Seahawks' organization has ever played.
The dissolution was felt in the first paragraph of Seattle Times columnist Steve Kelley on Saturday: "Life as we know it in Seattle will end today if the Seahawks lose to Washington and add one more year to their playoff drought."
And now, they take out Washington, 20-10, in an NFC semifinal playoff game.
Unreal, huh? The latte-sippin', tree-huggin', New-York-Times-readin', Courtney-Lovin' Seahawks won a playoff game? What's next? Sunlight in this gray, dank corner of the world?
Paul Allen was playing the "Where were you in 1984?" game, trying to recall where he was the moment the Seahawks last won in the playoffs.
"Geez, I was probably working on some form of the IBM PC," said America's third-wealthiest man, according to Forbes magazine. "No, wait. I'd left Microsoft already."
There was this other guy named Lorin Sandretzky at Qwest Field, who did not have $21 billion to his name but said he felt just as rich as the Seattle owner. Sandretzky is a 40-year-old, 6-foot-8, 460-pound beefcake of a man, whose sizable head made his Seahawks baseball cap look like a yarmulke. He has been to every Seahawks game for 16 years as a season ticket holder, and now this big lug with the words "Big Lo" on the back of his game jersey was near tears.
"Next to my nephew and niece being born, this is the greatest thing that's ever happened to me," Sandretzky said, his torso halfway over the stands under one goalpost. "I got to suck it up right now, but once I get inside my vehicle I'm going to be bawling my eyes out."
Finally, there was Mack Strong, plowing 32 yards, the longest of his 13-year career. (Mack Strong? Is there a greater name for a fullback? Maybe Tank Brisket. Or Bull Trucker. Brutus Rock? But as names for fullbacks go, Mack Strong is a good one.) Anyhow, what a surreal scene amid the drizzle and then a downpour:
The gazillionaire owner.






