Yes, that really happened.
For those of you (un)fortunate enough to stick with Sunday’s arduous, sloppy, incoherent contest between the Seahawks and Cardinals, I simply say: congrats.
You survived, and you’re a better person for it today.
Like some folks out there, I went from Oklahoma-Texas Tech on Saturday night – with their combined 125 points, 1708 yards of offense, 1279 PASSING YARDS – and wondered how one sport, with increasingly blended talent levels, could contrast so hard.
For perspective, Seattle and Arizona combined for 700 yards – and they’re two of the top-10 offenses in the NFL.
But for as ugly as it was - and despite not getting the win that could have for all intents and purposes, decided the NFC West already – Seattle can take something bigger away from Sunday’s tie:
It’s safe to say (or, as a viewer, hope) that the Seahawks won’t play a worse game offensively the rest of the season. The combination of lowly accuracy from Russell Wilson, no running game to speak of, and a capable, voracious Arizona defense left Seattle literally incapable of advancing past midfield for the entire duration of regulation. Let that sink in.
By the time this ugly cocktail of porous offense and suffocating defense had come to an end, Seattle was still two games up on their closest counterpart in the division. They showcased their NFL-leading defense, verifying all claims of their resurgent dominance; they never faltered, despite intense amounts of frustration that had to have been boiling; and they did just enough to escape without a loss.
At the end of the day, that is what they need to focus on.
The parity in the NFL appears to be at an all-time high. The difference between the cream and the floor is not what it once was. As cliché as it comes across as, on any given Sunday, any team can knock down the other. And no team, no matter how talented or even-keeled, will bring their “A” game every week. And on those nights, they have to display a level of moxie and cohesion that isn’t necessary when things are clicking.
Come playoff time, if Seattle finds itself facing a top-tier defense, or a raucous crowd, or a nasty combination of both, they can look back on Sunday night and realize they’ve been through worse. Because while they never faced a double-digit lead, or the loss of a truly impact player mid-game, they were faced with the reality that no matter what they did, no matter how they changed up concepts or schemes, nothing was going to work.
Nothing. And yet, they did just enough to escape. And sometimes, that’s all you need.
After the game, the national reaction was that of pure comedic relief. It was almost as if people had forcibly sat through the entire thing, assured that some unimaginable hijinks were going to take place. But alas, what we ended with was two teams, playing far below their talent level, scraping themselves off the grass, looking at each other and asking “Did we just do that?”
Both teams are better than what they put forth; luckily for both, historically poor performances coincided on the same night and the same field. It would not surprise me one bit to see a Seattle-Arizona rematch come playoff time. They play again later in the season, but after last night, it may take two games to wash away the stench.
But Seahawks fans, take solace in the 1 that still resides in your win-loss record. The first one, not the second one. Because keeping the Ls down to a minimum is what the NFL is all about. It’s not about style points (clearly); it’s not about margin of victory; it’s not even about your watchability. It’s having more wins, less losses.
Your team is still 4-1. You won’t play that bad again, maybe ever.
And today, two days removed from the wreckage, you’re still in first place, with no real challengers in sight.