Super Bowl Trip: 12s from Singapore
Posted: Tue Feb 25, 2014 2:08 amHey guys. For years I dreamed of the day I would chime in with the rest of you on the forum and celebrate a Super Bowl victory, but when the time came, for some reason unknown to me I have not written till now. So, without further delay ... SUPER BOWL CHAMPIONS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Also figured I would finally share with you an incredible experience my family and I had as we managed our way from Singapore to attend the game. I wrote a shorter version that I submitted as a short article to a local mag, but following is the unvarnished version I wrote to friends immediately after returning - a personal perspective of a Super Bowl experience which I thought some of you might enjoy hearing. I was definitely thinking of this forum (and the old PI one) among my other friends who are 12s when my son and I finally got to scream from the stands. Hope you enjoy...
"Our Experience at the Super Bowl"
Thanks to everyone for your prayers, well wishes and general interest in my family's trip to New York and the Super Bowl. A few of you have asked to hear about what it was like, so having just woken up well-rested at 12:30 PM and taking the day off from work, I figured this is my chance to do just that!
LOOKING FOR AN OPPORTUNITY
All season long we have been looking for an opportunity to make it back for a game, but there was always something to hold us back. Our most ambitious attempt had been when we tried to fly via military flight to the playoff game versus New Orleans in Seattle, but were thwarted with cancelled flights. Then, when we won the NFC Championship, we failed to draw Super Bowl tickets at face value. We'd spent time praying for an opportunity, and when the last one did not work out, it would have been easy to just resign ourselves to the "fact" that it was just too hard; it was certainly disheartening each time the opportunities we had hoped for fell through ... but we persisted, and one night all seemed to align when United Airlines tickets suddenly became affordable, and then within a couple days, I purchased tickets on E-Bay for a respectable price as the market (yes, there is a Superbowl ticket market which I could probably write a book about) bottomed a week out from the game.
Our flight to New York was fairly uneventful, and the kids did well. We got caught in rush hour between Newark and Manhattan, so that ride lasted a while.
NEW YORK LEADING UP TO SUPERBOWL
We stayed at Hotel Mela, which is right at the head of Times Square. It is a self-described boutique hotel. We found the staff to be courteous and helpful, and while the rooms were small, they were clean and the beds were comfortable. We were upgraded for free on our second night there - quite a difference between the small Queen room and the King Suite! Location could not be beat, with a great French restaurant and deli on the same block, and Times Square beginning at the corner of it. I'd highly recommend you consider it if you stay in New York, and if you do, deal directly with them to get the best deal possible (we went through Priceline, which did not afford us as good a deal as we could have had).
There was also an Irish bar next door. While Madi and I did not partake of spirits provided therein, it was a source of entertainment as we waited for cabs outside the hotel. One night, as I waited for Madi and the kids to arrive from uptown in a cab, a group of inebriated men popped out of the bar. One, wearing a New York Rangers winter cap, yelled out "There's a big game in town, folks ... Seahawks and Broncos!" He then proceeded to make a grand fart noise, accompanied by two thumbs down, indicating his disinterest. I couldn't help but be amused ... a classic "man moment."
Broadway, from 44th (where we were) down to 34th was turned into "Superbowl Boulevard," and was roped off from traffic. As we had arrived early, on Wednesday, we had free reign walking about and checking out the attractions (on Friday and Saturday, it was a madhouse, and I overheard some say it beat the insanity of New Years' Eve). They had the Lombardi trophy on display, which I was afraid to get too close to for fear of jinxing our chances of winning it. There was a gigantic slide. And all along the boulevard were news broadcast booths. The best of these was at 34th next to Macy's, where we proudly showed our large 12 flag as a background for the Mike-and-Mike Show, and the for the Colin Cowherd Show. Mike Golic signed a foam apple for Grant as he walked by.
Then there was Macy's, which was designated the official "NFL Store" for the Superbowl. We bought most of our memorabilia here, and inside it was really neat to see how the store embraced all the football hooligans who appeared at their doorstep. Not too often you get to see prim staff - usually accustomed to selling Chanel #5 to equally proper uptown clientele - enthusiastically greeting fans decked out in football jerseys with a "Go Seahawks!" or "Go Broncos!" depending on what colors one was wearing.
As for those Broncos fans: truly a class act. Leading up to the Superbowl, every Broncos fan we met was extremely friendly. I believe that in several senses, we have a lot in common; besides coming from the only two places in the US where one can smoke marijuana legally (hence why the Superbowl was dubbed by some as the "Weed Bowl"), as populations we share an interest in the outdoors, good beer, and have a history with each other as old AFC West rivals. For the most part, though, when fans of the two teams saw each other, they just moved on. I did not witness a single altercation between Seahawks and Broncos fans while we were in New York or New Jersey.
While we struggled with jet lag (other than Madi, who is one of those few individuals who are generally unaffected!), we managed to fit in some New York things. Madi and Grace went to a Broadway show, Cinderella; and then Madi and her friend Melissa, who visited from Boston, also attended another show called Kinky Boots. We spent time in Central Park, used the subway, visited FAO Schwartz Toy Store (two times...at some expense from our wallets but not too bad!), and ate lots and lots of New York style pizza!
The people were very friendly and helpful, as has always been my experience in New York. I love and am energized by the feel there. In New York, you just do things. You don't waffle. You don't waver. You just "do." Wright or wrong, you move ... in front of a cab in a crosswalk, at a ticket booth, or in a line for pizza ... making decisions, taking action. If you don't, you get left behind ... and to get left behind is to fail. New Yorkers tell it like it is, and I love that, even if its about you.
GAMEDAY
As we got closer to the game, my focus shifted from having fun with my family to the game itself, and on Superbowl Sunday, I woke up at 4:30 AM and found myself an emotional wreck. I watched the latest edition of "Hour of Power" on our laptop in the bathroom, and Bobby Shuller talked about how we don't really live according to our purpose until we dare to achieve it, trusting in God and moving forward ... essentially putting aside our fears and our cautions that hold so many of us back. The message resonated with what I've been living the past year, and particularly the preceeding days since deciding to go to the game, and it helped. I prayed. I also received some encouraging e-mails from my friend, Nagel, offering advice on how to chill out, and telling me "you probably won't be able to nap as your brain is going too fast right now" and "you probably need to find someplace quiet to reflect." Still, when we went to breakfast at a local diner with our friend Melissa, I knew I was not fun to be around: I didn't want to talk, was full of nerves, and fortunately was wise enough to tell Madi I needed sometime to be alone. So gracefully, she took the kids with Melissa to a public library for a couple hours and I did get some time to rest and reflect, as Nagel had advised.
Then, it was time. For the past few hours I had felt I might break down under the enormity of anticipation and fear. But when the moment arrived to "suit up," I knew the choice was to either: 1) cower and leave this game of football at the critical moment in order to hide under a shallow blanket of sports liberalism known as soccer; or, 2) "nut up" as my friend Dennis used to say (i.e., be a man), and do what we came to New York to do. And despite all the fun which surrounded and was a part of this trip, there was one thing we came here to do: to cheer for the Seattle Seahawks and do our part as 12s to achieve our first-ever Superbowl Championship. Suddenly, the fear subsided, and Grant and I dressed for the game.
Grant wore his white #51 Tatupu jersey. Retro from a previous Seahawks uniform design, with Lofa Tatupu a couple years removed, I told Grant I'd buy him a brand new #24 Marshawn Lynch (his next favorite Seahawk player) away jersey on the way to the game if he wanted one. I was so proud of my son when he responded "I might wear a Marshawn Lynch jersey once in a while, but Lofa is still my favorite player and I want to wear this jersey because it helps the whole team instead of just one player." I wore my grey away #3 Wilson jersey, and we both pinned on Super Bowl XLVIII pins we had bought at Macy's to make us official. We broke our golden tickets from out of the room safe, took a picture, and were off - leaving Madi and Grace to cheer from our Seahawk bastion at the Mela, which we adorned with our 12 flag at the head of our bed.
Having purchased our New Jersey train tickets two days before, we boarded one of the early trains for Secaucus at Penn Station almost immediately. Touted as the first-ever "mass transit Superbowl," the only way into Metlife Stadium in East Rutherford was by bus or train. The smoothness of the transportation ended at Secaucus, where there was only one person in a yellow coat to direct the thousands of fans who offloaded onto the median between tracks. We managed to find our way to the train to Metlife by following the herd, and I was thankful we only had to wait an hour, as I imagined it would get a lot worse with the follow-on trains from Penn Station (according to reports, it did get a lot worse). I don't like crowds to begin with, as I know they can turn deadly as soon as organization is lost, and I had an escape plan to jump with Grant down onto the tracks if it got too hairy. Fortunately, however, the great majority of people remained calm and we eventually made our way to the next train.
Grant made friends everywhere we went. It didn't make a difference to him what team they rooted for, and once to my chagrin, he offered to some Broncos fans that the Broncos were his third favorite football team behind the Seahawks and the Cowboys (I still remember how I used to hate the Broncos in our old AFC West days). On each train, Grant led cheers for the Seahawks, starting with "SEA", and the crowd following with "HAWKS!" Sometimes, it didn't go as well as he had planned; other times, he achieved the full effect, making me a very proud father. He was wound-up big time, and I tried to temper his enthusiasm, as I new he'd need some energy later when it really mattered, but it's hard to contain an 8 year old boy when he is so excited.
Between the train and the stadium, there was another lack of guidance and crowd control. We essentially had to find our own way, and at one point, it became "fan against fan" as those in line yelled at those trying to cut in. We waited about 2 hours in line just to get to the stadium checkpoint. Trying not to be overly critical, I'm comfortable in stating that New Jersey was not well prepared to handle this event between Secaucus and the stadium. Once in the stadium, it got a lot better.
Entering the Metlife Stadium, the word that jumps out to me is "big." There was a lot of excitement in the air, and Grant and I proceeded almost immediately to our seats, stopping to get hot dogs, sodas and water as I knew we needed some energy after 4 hours of transportation and lines. We sat down at 6 PM - half an hour before kickoff.
Section 330, Row 15, Seats 11 and 12. I gave the "12 Seat" to Grant, its symbolic nature not lost upon either of us. Inside Metlife was not very different from other stadiums: the moment we entered it and saw the field, we were captivated. I wouldn't characterize it in any other way. The seats were smallish, and once in them, it was difficult to move or reach under your seat. The section, being on the Seahawks side, was predominantly made up of Seahawk fans, although I had a couple Bronco fans on my right, and about four in front of us; while respectful of them, I did not talk to them. I considered making small talk, but small talk invariably leads to that awkward moment where you want to wish them well, but really know you shouldn't.
And I did not want to wish any Broncos fans well at this point. I did not want to make "Bronco friends." I remembered all too well the painful feeling of loss from Superbowl XL, and I only wanted one thing that night: victory. This didn't mean I had to be a jerk to the opposition, but I certainly wasn't going to provide them with a single ounce of me, either - goodwill or not. "Just a game" my a--. We'd just flown from Singapore for this, and we were on a mission. Perhaps my own feelings explain the stoic faces I saw in all the other fans around me before kickoff. If I had landed as a casual observer into these seats, I might have wondered to myself "what crawled up these peoples' butts?"
America the Beautiful and the Stars Spangled Banner were sung very well, but that part, upon reflection, is a bit blurry to me now. The part of the pregame that is very clear, however, is the fly-by, which was one of the best I have ever seen. Located at the opposite end of the field, we could see their slow approach from a distance: green lights in the darkness beyond. Then low overhead flew the U.S. Army Apaches, Chinooks, and Blackhawks. Grant was geeked!
At kickoff, I broke out my camera for that iconic Superbowl moment where you see all the flashes go off, and actually got a pretty cool shot as Steven Hauschka's foot was just about to make impact with the football. I could go into play-by-play detail from here on out, but will spare you that. Instead, I'll describe something which I think captures the best of it, and also reflects why we came this long distance to watch this game of football.
That moment was the very next play, with Denver's offense taking to the field after their kick returner got pummeled at the 15 yard line by our special teams. I told Grant that our defense was on the field, and to yell at the top of his lungs, which he did. I then turned my head toward the field, and the outside world became this empty void. My singular focus became my mouth and lungs, what emanated from them, and their target, Peyton Manning. This is what I had come for. What I had been longing to be a part of all year long. This was for my 12th Man compatriots back in Singapore who bled green-and-blue and could not be here with me. This was for my wife, who so graciously and lovingly puts up with my love for the game and despite understandable concerns about the purchases of gear, season tickets and big screen televisions that come with it, always comes through in the biggest moments to keep the dream alive. This was for my family back in Seattle and Bellingham who carried the torch there. This was for my bosses and Shipmates back at work who told me to "go" as soon as I uttered the possibility of attending to the big game, despite knowing they'd have to cover for me while I was gone. And this was for me: the kid who fell instantly in love with the Seahawks back in 1984 when we moved to the Pacific Northwest. This moment was here and now, and I screamed at the top of my lungs. I felt like I was on top of the Broncos. The roar from the crowd was incredible, and 12 seconds into the game came the early snap that Peyton did not expect, ensued by a safety, with Seahawks defenders swarming all over Denver running back Knowshon Moreno in the end-zone. I turned to the Seahawks fans around me, who were instantly energized into unrelenting CHAMPIONS. "Did that just happen?," I asked. I was answered with high-fives .... for the rest of the night ... high fives ... domination .... victory.
Visually, it seemed like there was a slight majority of Denver fans at the game and in New York, but this may just have been a perception based on their bright orange colored jerseys standing out more than the more subdued blue, green, grey, and white worn by fans on our side. With that said, the 12th Man was at least 2 times louder at the game, likely 3 times louder, and it is conceivable we might have been 5 to 10 times as loud. The 12th Man certainly showed up in East Rutherford on 2 February, and based on what I've read in post-game comments from Denver players, I know we had an effect on them.
Grant, my Buddy and the greatest of troopers, wore down in the second quarter. He was crying about the noise, with tears. I knew this was more to do with a need for sleep than the noise, which was indeed quite loud. He then fell asleep through he halftime show (which I thought was awesome) , and then waking up re-energized in the 3rd quarter, when we had basically wrapped up the game. He got to see the final quarter, and then celebrated victory with his dad and fellow 12th Man as we danced (literally danced) in the stands and as the clock wound down to zero.
Wanting to avoid the calamity and long waits in lines that I knew we'd have to endure if we bolted for the train, Grant and I walked around and sat in the stands for the next three and a half hours. It was cold, but we didn't care. We just sat there in the stands, talking about stuff and taking it all in. There was absolutely nothing to complain about, because the Seattle Seahawks - and we - were World Champions.
AFTER THE SUPERBOWL
The next day, it was hard to find Broncos fans. Whenever we spotted Seahawk fans, we winked, high-fived, shouted "Go Hawks," etc. I went to a Starbucks with two strangers who that day were brothers; we walked around Broadway for half an hour talking about the game and then parting ways. They were from Sacramento.
It snowed, and New York when it snows is a magical place. Despite trying to convince the kids we should go see the Statue of Liberty, they insisted we go to Central Park as they wanted to play in the snow. We relented, and I'm glad we did. It was gorgeous there. We trudged through the snow. Grace made a snow-angel, which was her goal while we were in New York. Madi chatted with some ladies from town while Grant played with their daughters, sledding down a hill. We felt very much a part of this city, and did not want to leave it.
Waking up today, and walking into the heat of Singapore outside, I felt alien to this place we'd only been gone a week from. After a quick drive to Starbucks, and passing all the interesting Chinese desserts that the New Year brings at Yishun Plaza, I felt back "at home" again. Singapore is a good place. But I miss the USA, and we miss New York.
It was the trip of a lifetime. If we have others like or comparable to it, it will be a blessing; but if not, then we'll always have it to reflect upon. I am truly blessed, and thankful to God for letting my dream come true. So glad we went to the Super Bowl!
SEATTLE SEAHAWKS ... WORLD CHAMPIONS!!!
Also figured I would finally share with you an incredible experience my family and I had as we managed our way from Singapore to attend the game. I wrote a shorter version that I submitted as a short article to a local mag, but following is the unvarnished version I wrote to friends immediately after returning - a personal perspective of a Super Bowl experience which I thought some of you might enjoy hearing. I was definitely thinking of this forum (and the old PI one) among my other friends who are 12s when my son and I finally got to scream from the stands. Hope you enjoy...
"Our Experience at the Super Bowl"
Thanks to everyone for your prayers, well wishes and general interest in my family's trip to New York and the Super Bowl. A few of you have asked to hear about what it was like, so having just woken up well-rested at 12:30 PM and taking the day off from work, I figured this is my chance to do just that!
LOOKING FOR AN OPPORTUNITY
All season long we have been looking for an opportunity to make it back for a game, but there was always something to hold us back. Our most ambitious attempt had been when we tried to fly via military flight to the playoff game versus New Orleans in Seattle, but were thwarted with cancelled flights. Then, when we won the NFC Championship, we failed to draw Super Bowl tickets at face value. We'd spent time praying for an opportunity, and when the last one did not work out, it would have been easy to just resign ourselves to the "fact" that it was just too hard; it was certainly disheartening each time the opportunities we had hoped for fell through ... but we persisted, and one night all seemed to align when United Airlines tickets suddenly became affordable, and then within a couple days, I purchased tickets on E-Bay for a respectable price as the market (yes, there is a Superbowl ticket market which I could probably write a book about) bottomed a week out from the game.
Our flight to New York was fairly uneventful, and the kids did well. We got caught in rush hour between Newark and Manhattan, so that ride lasted a while.
NEW YORK LEADING UP TO SUPERBOWL
We stayed at Hotel Mela, which is right at the head of Times Square. It is a self-described boutique hotel. We found the staff to be courteous and helpful, and while the rooms were small, they were clean and the beds were comfortable. We were upgraded for free on our second night there - quite a difference between the small Queen room and the King Suite! Location could not be beat, with a great French restaurant and deli on the same block, and Times Square beginning at the corner of it. I'd highly recommend you consider it if you stay in New York, and if you do, deal directly with them to get the best deal possible (we went through Priceline, which did not afford us as good a deal as we could have had).
There was also an Irish bar next door. While Madi and I did not partake of spirits provided therein, it was a source of entertainment as we waited for cabs outside the hotel. One night, as I waited for Madi and the kids to arrive from uptown in a cab, a group of inebriated men popped out of the bar. One, wearing a New York Rangers winter cap, yelled out "There's a big game in town, folks ... Seahawks and Broncos!" He then proceeded to make a grand fart noise, accompanied by two thumbs down, indicating his disinterest. I couldn't help but be amused ... a classic "man moment."
Broadway, from 44th (where we were) down to 34th was turned into "Superbowl Boulevard," and was roped off from traffic. As we had arrived early, on Wednesday, we had free reign walking about and checking out the attractions (on Friday and Saturday, it was a madhouse, and I overheard some say it beat the insanity of New Years' Eve). They had the Lombardi trophy on display, which I was afraid to get too close to for fear of jinxing our chances of winning it. There was a gigantic slide. And all along the boulevard were news broadcast booths. The best of these was at 34th next to Macy's, where we proudly showed our large 12 flag as a background for the Mike-and-Mike Show, and the for the Colin Cowherd Show. Mike Golic signed a foam apple for Grant as he walked by.
Then there was Macy's, which was designated the official "NFL Store" for the Superbowl. We bought most of our memorabilia here, and inside it was really neat to see how the store embraced all the football hooligans who appeared at their doorstep. Not too often you get to see prim staff - usually accustomed to selling Chanel #5 to equally proper uptown clientele - enthusiastically greeting fans decked out in football jerseys with a "Go Seahawks!" or "Go Broncos!" depending on what colors one was wearing.
As for those Broncos fans: truly a class act. Leading up to the Superbowl, every Broncos fan we met was extremely friendly. I believe that in several senses, we have a lot in common; besides coming from the only two places in the US where one can smoke marijuana legally (hence why the Superbowl was dubbed by some as the "Weed Bowl"), as populations we share an interest in the outdoors, good beer, and have a history with each other as old AFC West rivals. For the most part, though, when fans of the two teams saw each other, they just moved on. I did not witness a single altercation between Seahawks and Broncos fans while we were in New York or New Jersey.
While we struggled with jet lag (other than Madi, who is one of those few individuals who are generally unaffected!), we managed to fit in some New York things. Madi and Grace went to a Broadway show, Cinderella; and then Madi and her friend Melissa, who visited from Boston, also attended another show called Kinky Boots. We spent time in Central Park, used the subway, visited FAO Schwartz Toy Store (two times...at some expense from our wallets but not too bad!), and ate lots and lots of New York style pizza!
The people were very friendly and helpful, as has always been my experience in New York. I love and am energized by the feel there. In New York, you just do things. You don't waffle. You don't waver. You just "do." Wright or wrong, you move ... in front of a cab in a crosswalk, at a ticket booth, or in a line for pizza ... making decisions, taking action. If you don't, you get left behind ... and to get left behind is to fail. New Yorkers tell it like it is, and I love that, even if its about you.
GAMEDAY
As we got closer to the game, my focus shifted from having fun with my family to the game itself, and on Superbowl Sunday, I woke up at 4:30 AM and found myself an emotional wreck. I watched the latest edition of "Hour of Power" on our laptop in the bathroom, and Bobby Shuller talked about how we don't really live according to our purpose until we dare to achieve it, trusting in God and moving forward ... essentially putting aside our fears and our cautions that hold so many of us back. The message resonated with what I've been living the past year, and particularly the preceeding days since deciding to go to the game, and it helped. I prayed. I also received some encouraging e-mails from my friend, Nagel, offering advice on how to chill out, and telling me "you probably won't be able to nap as your brain is going too fast right now" and "you probably need to find someplace quiet to reflect." Still, when we went to breakfast at a local diner with our friend Melissa, I knew I was not fun to be around: I didn't want to talk, was full of nerves, and fortunately was wise enough to tell Madi I needed sometime to be alone. So gracefully, she took the kids with Melissa to a public library for a couple hours and I did get some time to rest and reflect, as Nagel had advised.
Then, it was time. For the past few hours I had felt I might break down under the enormity of anticipation and fear. But when the moment arrived to "suit up," I knew the choice was to either: 1) cower and leave this game of football at the critical moment in order to hide under a shallow blanket of sports liberalism known as soccer; or, 2) "nut up" as my friend Dennis used to say (i.e., be a man), and do what we came to New York to do. And despite all the fun which surrounded and was a part of this trip, there was one thing we came here to do: to cheer for the Seattle Seahawks and do our part as 12s to achieve our first-ever Superbowl Championship. Suddenly, the fear subsided, and Grant and I dressed for the game.
Grant wore his white #51 Tatupu jersey. Retro from a previous Seahawks uniform design, with Lofa Tatupu a couple years removed, I told Grant I'd buy him a brand new #24 Marshawn Lynch (his next favorite Seahawk player) away jersey on the way to the game if he wanted one. I was so proud of my son when he responded "I might wear a Marshawn Lynch jersey once in a while, but Lofa is still my favorite player and I want to wear this jersey because it helps the whole team instead of just one player." I wore my grey away #3 Wilson jersey, and we both pinned on Super Bowl XLVIII pins we had bought at Macy's to make us official. We broke our golden tickets from out of the room safe, took a picture, and were off - leaving Madi and Grace to cheer from our Seahawk bastion at the Mela, which we adorned with our 12 flag at the head of our bed.
Having purchased our New Jersey train tickets two days before, we boarded one of the early trains for Secaucus at Penn Station almost immediately. Touted as the first-ever "mass transit Superbowl," the only way into Metlife Stadium in East Rutherford was by bus or train. The smoothness of the transportation ended at Secaucus, where there was only one person in a yellow coat to direct the thousands of fans who offloaded onto the median between tracks. We managed to find our way to the train to Metlife by following the herd, and I was thankful we only had to wait an hour, as I imagined it would get a lot worse with the follow-on trains from Penn Station (according to reports, it did get a lot worse). I don't like crowds to begin with, as I know they can turn deadly as soon as organization is lost, and I had an escape plan to jump with Grant down onto the tracks if it got too hairy. Fortunately, however, the great majority of people remained calm and we eventually made our way to the next train.
Grant made friends everywhere we went. It didn't make a difference to him what team they rooted for, and once to my chagrin, he offered to some Broncos fans that the Broncos were his third favorite football team behind the Seahawks and the Cowboys (I still remember how I used to hate the Broncos in our old AFC West days). On each train, Grant led cheers for the Seahawks, starting with "SEA", and the crowd following with "HAWKS!" Sometimes, it didn't go as well as he had planned; other times, he achieved the full effect, making me a very proud father. He was wound-up big time, and I tried to temper his enthusiasm, as I new he'd need some energy later when it really mattered, but it's hard to contain an 8 year old boy when he is so excited.
Between the train and the stadium, there was another lack of guidance and crowd control. We essentially had to find our own way, and at one point, it became "fan against fan" as those in line yelled at those trying to cut in. We waited about 2 hours in line just to get to the stadium checkpoint. Trying not to be overly critical, I'm comfortable in stating that New Jersey was not well prepared to handle this event between Secaucus and the stadium. Once in the stadium, it got a lot better.
Entering the Metlife Stadium, the word that jumps out to me is "big." There was a lot of excitement in the air, and Grant and I proceeded almost immediately to our seats, stopping to get hot dogs, sodas and water as I knew we needed some energy after 4 hours of transportation and lines. We sat down at 6 PM - half an hour before kickoff.
Section 330, Row 15, Seats 11 and 12. I gave the "12 Seat" to Grant, its symbolic nature not lost upon either of us. Inside Metlife was not very different from other stadiums: the moment we entered it and saw the field, we were captivated. I wouldn't characterize it in any other way. The seats were smallish, and once in them, it was difficult to move or reach under your seat. The section, being on the Seahawks side, was predominantly made up of Seahawk fans, although I had a couple Bronco fans on my right, and about four in front of us; while respectful of them, I did not talk to them. I considered making small talk, but small talk invariably leads to that awkward moment where you want to wish them well, but really know you shouldn't.
And I did not want to wish any Broncos fans well at this point. I did not want to make "Bronco friends." I remembered all too well the painful feeling of loss from Superbowl XL, and I only wanted one thing that night: victory. This didn't mean I had to be a jerk to the opposition, but I certainly wasn't going to provide them with a single ounce of me, either - goodwill or not. "Just a game" my a--. We'd just flown from Singapore for this, and we were on a mission. Perhaps my own feelings explain the stoic faces I saw in all the other fans around me before kickoff. If I had landed as a casual observer into these seats, I might have wondered to myself "what crawled up these peoples' butts?"
America the Beautiful and the Stars Spangled Banner were sung very well, but that part, upon reflection, is a bit blurry to me now. The part of the pregame that is very clear, however, is the fly-by, which was one of the best I have ever seen. Located at the opposite end of the field, we could see their slow approach from a distance: green lights in the darkness beyond. Then low overhead flew the U.S. Army Apaches, Chinooks, and Blackhawks. Grant was geeked!
At kickoff, I broke out my camera for that iconic Superbowl moment where you see all the flashes go off, and actually got a pretty cool shot as Steven Hauschka's foot was just about to make impact with the football. I could go into play-by-play detail from here on out, but will spare you that. Instead, I'll describe something which I think captures the best of it, and also reflects why we came this long distance to watch this game of football.
That moment was the very next play, with Denver's offense taking to the field after their kick returner got pummeled at the 15 yard line by our special teams. I told Grant that our defense was on the field, and to yell at the top of his lungs, which he did. I then turned my head toward the field, and the outside world became this empty void. My singular focus became my mouth and lungs, what emanated from them, and their target, Peyton Manning. This is what I had come for. What I had been longing to be a part of all year long. This was for my 12th Man compatriots back in Singapore who bled green-and-blue and could not be here with me. This was for my wife, who so graciously and lovingly puts up with my love for the game and despite understandable concerns about the purchases of gear, season tickets and big screen televisions that come with it, always comes through in the biggest moments to keep the dream alive. This was for my family back in Seattle and Bellingham who carried the torch there. This was for my bosses and Shipmates back at work who told me to "go" as soon as I uttered the possibility of attending to the big game, despite knowing they'd have to cover for me while I was gone. And this was for me: the kid who fell instantly in love with the Seahawks back in 1984 when we moved to the Pacific Northwest. This moment was here and now, and I screamed at the top of my lungs. I felt like I was on top of the Broncos. The roar from the crowd was incredible, and 12 seconds into the game came the early snap that Peyton did not expect, ensued by a safety, with Seahawks defenders swarming all over Denver running back Knowshon Moreno in the end-zone. I turned to the Seahawks fans around me, who were instantly energized into unrelenting CHAMPIONS. "Did that just happen?," I asked. I was answered with high-fives .... for the rest of the night ... high fives ... domination .... victory.
Visually, it seemed like there was a slight majority of Denver fans at the game and in New York, but this may just have been a perception based on their bright orange colored jerseys standing out more than the more subdued blue, green, grey, and white worn by fans on our side. With that said, the 12th Man was at least 2 times louder at the game, likely 3 times louder, and it is conceivable we might have been 5 to 10 times as loud. The 12th Man certainly showed up in East Rutherford on 2 February, and based on what I've read in post-game comments from Denver players, I know we had an effect on them.
Grant, my Buddy and the greatest of troopers, wore down in the second quarter. He was crying about the noise, with tears. I knew this was more to do with a need for sleep than the noise, which was indeed quite loud. He then fell asleep through he halftime show (which I thought was awesome) , and then waking up re-energized in the 3rd quarter, when we had basically wrapped up the game. He got to see the final quarter, and then celebrated victory with his dad and fellow 12th Man as we danced (literally danced) in the stands and as the clock wound down to zero.
Wanting to avoid the calamity and long waits in lines that I knew we'd have to endure if we bolted for the train, Grant and I walked around and sat in the stands for the next three and a half hours. It was cold, but we didn't care. We just sat there in the stands, talking about stuff and taking it all in. There was absolutely nothing to complain about, because the Seattle Seahawks - and we - were World Champions.
AFTER THE SUPERBOWL
The next day, it was hard to find Broncos fans. Whenever we spotted Seahawk fans, we winked, high-fived, shouted "Go Hawks," etc. I went to a Starbucks with two strangers who that day were brothers; we walked around Broadway for half an hour talking about the game and then parting ways. They were from Sacramento.
It snowed, and New York when it snows is a magical place. Despite trying to convince the kids we should go see the Statue of Liberty, they insisted we go to Central Park as they wanted to play in the snow. We relented, and I'm glad we did. It was gorgeous there. We trudged through the snow. Grace made a snow-angel, which was her goal while we were in New York. Madi chatted with some ladies from town while Grant played with their daughters, sledding down a hill. We felt very much a part of this city, and did not want to leave it.
Waking up today, and walking into the heat of Singapore outside, I felt alien to this place we'd only been gone a week from. After a quick drive to Starbucks, and passing all the interesting Chinese desserts that the New Year brings at Yishun Plaza, I felt back "at home" again. Singapore is a good place. But I miss the USA, and we miss New York.
It was the trip of a lifetime. If we have others like or comparable to it, it will be a blessing; but if not, then we'll always have it to reflect upon. I am truly blessed, and thankful to God for letting my dream come true. So glad we went to the Super Bowl!
SEATTLE SEAHAWKS ... WORLD CHAMPIONS!!!