So Seattle is going to the Super Bowl.

I heard this from a trio of flying pigs who had been unable to land in Hell due to icy conditions at the airfield. But seriously.

I’m not much of a football fan. Seattle is the only team I ever really cared about. I used to watch the Seahawks during the (relative) glory days of ‘Ground Chuck’, Zorn-passes-to-Largent, and Curt Warner zigzagging up the field. But then I went to Illinois, and frankly, over the next twenty years, I didn’t have much reason to get excited again, so I stopped watching football entirely.

This latest winning streak caught me by surprise. Seattle? In an NFC Championship game? This must be some kind of joke.

But there they were, in their dark blue uniforms with an ever-so-minimal pinstripe of Seahawk green, beating up on Carolina. I watched the game in glorious high-definition, and it was a pleasure to see them playing so well. It was a beautiful thing.

And now I find myself in the unexpected and utterly unfamiliar position of being excited about the Super Bowl. And NOT just because of the commercials.

How odd.