I may be drunk, but you know what I'm NOT? I'm not the pussy-assed Dallas Cowboys and the Buttfuck-Loving Tony Romo (I'm gonna go ahead and save you the Tony Homo comments, because that's just uncalled for).
I can't tell you how happy I am right now. I went to my usual bar tonight - The Black Sheep - and the one bartender knows me as The Seahawks Fan, which is cool. When I got there, the place was mostly empty, but they were playing some crappy jukebox music. I'm not gonna lie to you, Christina Aguilara's "Dirrrty" was one of the songs I had to suffer through (it's NOTHING without its skankilly hot accompanying video). About two bar-stools to my left sat this guy in his 60's named Gary. I'd seen him there before and would later understand that he's something of a regular. SO, he starts talking to me. Apparently, he's a New Yorker who doesn't really have an affiliation with either New York football team; he kinda roots for 'em both. I asked him, though, if he had a gun put to his head, and he said Jets. That's a relief, anyway. A Jets fan I can handle, they know heartbreak as much as a Seahawks fan.
Anyway, Gary was pretty cool, in spite of him being an old man who was one of those Talkers. Of course, after I got a few beers in me, I started feeding him information about the Seahawks. He didn't REALLY care who won this game tonight, but he had money or something on the Seahawks, so he rooted along with me. However, since he's a regular, he talked the bartender into turning the Game Sound on instead of the crappy music. I actually got to HEAR all the mind-blowing action!
When I got there, I didn't see a Dallas fan in the joint; but once the game started going, I noticed a table of three dudes cheering along with me. However, after halftime, a bunch of fucknuts from Dallas walked in and took over the other side of the bar. Great. Just as Dallas goes into halftime with a 10-6 lead and Hasselbeck playing like a fucking rookie.
The third quarter sees a hard-fought Seahawks touchdown with lots of running and TWO fourth-down conversions. Then, they kick it off to the right sideline and the Dallas guy runs it all the way back to snatch the lead just like that. So, it's 17-13 into the fourth. For some reason, on the next drive, the Seahawks went away from the run. I don't understand it, you get the touchdown on Alexander's legs, then when you get the ball back, you throw a pass to make it 2nd and 4 and then you throw it twice??? What the fuck?
Of course, what I'll never understand is how we had it 1st and Goal on the 1 and Alexander loses five or six yards. First of all, what the FUCK are you doing running it to the right side? Your ONLY chance for success is throwing Mack Strong in there and running behind Walter Jones. Shawn Locklear had been playing like a two-bit hooker up to that point, giving up sack after sack and having Hasselbeck running for his life. DON'T trust him on the ground! He's partially injured and not that much better when he's fully healthy!
At one point in the second half, I stopped drinking beer altogether, telling myself that I'm not allowed to take another sip until the Seahawks get a touchdown. After about five hours, my boy Jerramy Stevens caught the pass of his life to give us a touchdown and a 1-point lead. I didn't really think much of us missing that 2-point conversion, but I guess I probably should have. With four minutes left, there was no way in hell we were keeping them out of field goal range. Right on cue, we give up a long run to Julius "I Suck Dick Like It's Curing Diabetes In Fantasy Football" Jones to get them down to the 11. From that moment on, EVERYTHING had to go right for us to get a victory.
Lo and behold, it did. They did NOT get that first down to Witten! They did NOT get that snap down for the field goal! They did NOT get a first down or a touchdown with Romo running the ball! I hope Romo looks at that bloody and cut-up finger tomorrow and it reminds him of what a collosal fuckup he is. LACES OUT YOU LIMEY FUCK!!!!!
To end, I'll take a step back to the point where I started going fucking NUTS in the bar full of Dallas fans (still with the table full of Seahawks fans - apparently, they're from Seattle but went to school here; I told them to come back next week, they better fucking show up, I don't want to have to deal with that old man on my own). We go backwards on 1st and Goal from the 1. We get down to the 2 yard line by the time 4th down comes around. I'm thinking to myself, there's no WAY Holmgren's going for this. We'll take the field goal, be within 4 points, and hope for the stop. What does he do? Fucking goes for it. Fucking throws in the two tight end package with the full back and one receiver. Fucking forces Hasselbeck to throw to Ryan Hannam. Fucking falls pathetically incomplete. So, Dallas has it, and I'm thinking it's all over. Sure, there's always the CHANCE for a safety, but with our undersized D-line, there's no fucking way we're getting enough pressure to sack Romo in the endzone.
Short pass to Glenn, big hit by Babs (I think), fumble-rooskie in the endzone, it's battered, saved, picked up by Boulware, TOUCHDOWN!!!!!! I'm running up and down the bar, high-fiving the Seahawks Table, screaming my ass off. By the time I calm down, I see they're reviewing the damn thing. When it was saved in the endzone, a Seahawk foot was on the sideline. Safety.
Even better, as it turns out. After the free kick, we chuck that Stevens touchdown and the rest is history. Ecstacy. I'm spent.
Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to watch I Heart Huckabees, as that's the happiest movie I can think of watching at the moment.