Ladies and Gentlemen....I submit to you the story of The Magic Hat as evidence that even the Great Atlatic Ocean is no match for the power of the Seattle Seahawks.
Here I am on Day 5 of my Cape Cod vacation, jumping in the waves of water so cold my penis had retreated 3 feet into my lower intestines, and my balls were somewhere around my throat, otherwise enjoying the beach and the views. (actual picture of anonymous beachgoer clicked when my wife wasn't looking!)
Anyhow, since I was the only one brave (errr Stupid) enough to get into the water, I was keeping an eye on my kids, who were digging sand castles on the beach, while jumping in the waves.
Not expecting too get in too much above the waistline, I was wearing my sunglasses and everpresent Seahawks cap.
You see, after each season I treat myself to a new Seahawks cap, and generally wear it through the summer, playing golf and doing yardwork etc. On this particular occasion, it was the khaki Seahawks cap that I bought after the 2003 Season, a little worn and tattered, but one of my favorites.
Anyhow, as I'm enjoying numb sensation of my lower extremities, courtesy of frigid temperatures of the north Atlantic seacoast, a moster wave sneaks up behind me and thoroughly wipes me out.
At this point it's probably important to point on that in addition to the unique water temperatures, the North Atlantic is known for its course sand and rocky bottom, so when you get wiped out by a wave, you try to get to your feet as soon as possible, otherwise your flesh gets ripped and tattered quicker than Ben Rothlesburger's Harley T-Shirt as he's flying across the hood of Bluefoot's mother's New Yorker!
So as I'm scrambling to get to my feet and keep from leaving several layers of my epidermis on Nauset Beach, I managed to secure my sunglasses, but lost my hat to the mighty Sea.
As high tide was rolling in, I tried to search each ebb and flow of the waves as they crashed in, for any sign of my beloved Seahawks hat. After about 10 minutes of searching, I realized that it was gone for good, and that I should just let it be.
So I continued to frollick in the surf while keeping one eye on my kids, and other one for any other mini-tidal waves that may be trying sneak up on me, and went back to enjoying my vacation bliss....as well as the general numbness from the waist down.
Then, about 20 minutes later, a full half hour since the hat-losing debacle, as another particularly large wave crashed over me, I saw something tan floating just beneith the surface.
IT WAS MY HAT!
As I reached for it, the undertow started to drag it back to the sea, and it scooted away just below my grasp.
F#CK THAT...SAID I...I'M NOT LOSING IT AGAIN!
So I dove head first into the briney surf and snagged that cap away from the clutches of Neptune, Poseiden, and the watery tart who gave King Arthur that sword!
I came up out of the water clutching the hat like Tom Hanks when he speared that fish in Cast Away, and knew that it was a sign from God, Mother Nature, or some other global force, of the resiliency of this team, and the faith of being a fan!
(to comment, click the green number to the right of the title above)