The Seahawks’ miraculous return from the dead

Did you watch that game last Sunday
‘tween the Seahawks and Green Bay?
It was unlike anything I’ve ever seen.
Sure defeat gave way to victory.
Sorrow turned to happiness.
The black of mourning morphed to blue and green.

Some called it ‘resurrection.’
The Hawks were good as dead.
Three minutes left and two touchdowns behind.
The hometown fans were leaving.
Hope was gone, the end in sight.
It was clear the winds of fate would not be kind.

And then without a fanfare,
hope returned. The Hawks found life
and they reached the end zone twice in record time.
In a miracle reversal
grief surrendered to great joy.
An onside kick became a sacred sign.

Then “the twelves” sang victory’s praises.
What a choir! What delight!
It was like Good Friday turned to Easter morn.
In a game that’s for the ages,
there’s a metaphor of faith
when a lifeless dream that’s buried is reborn.

Why the Seahawks stadium resembles church

It’s Sunday and the worshipers
have gathered filled with hope.
They raise their hands toward Heaven as they pray.
These congregants are fervent
in their liturgy and zeal.
You’d think it’s church to see the Seahawks play.

The refs (like certain preachers)
are preoccupied with rules.
They’re quick to point out when somebody sins.
But they also call attention
to the progress that is made
as they run along beside Lynch til he’s in.

The choir wears their matching robes
that boast the number 12.
They loudly sing their songs in unison.
Their chanting cheers the faithful
as their words inspire faith
that when all is said and done they will have won.

“Go Hawks!” A stranger offers
as he passes on the street.
He see me clad in 12th Man green and blue.
“Go Hawks!” is my rejoinder
much like what we say in church
“The Lord be with you! And also with you!”

It seems like a religion
when you stop to analyze
the rituals that mark a Seahawks’ fan.
There’s passion and allegiance
and commitment to a cause
that a non-believer cannot understand.