The NFC Champtionship AKA Hofmann Bowl

If you give no crap about football, if you view it as "just a game," if you see it as a testosterone-driven sport that encapsulates the worst parts of capitalism or male aggressiveness, just close this page down and move on with your life.

My post will not entertain you.

See, I'm a Seahawks fan. And that's a challenge, living in Maryland. For example, it required three calls to the NFL Shop's customer service to rectify a Russell Wilson jersey situation (for Charlotte), because I couldn't exactly waltz downtown to the Seahawks Pro Shop in downtown Seattle. Ya know? 

(In fairness to NFL Shop, they did their duty and were swell, overnighting a jersey to us to replace a botched order. I have a happy [almost]-4-year-old Russell Wilson fan to prove it.)

Now, let me say this this: I am not a bandwagoner. When you live on the East Coast, you get this label easily. You appear to come out of the woodwork when your team does well; the rest of the time, you're invisible.

No! I tell folks, most of them embittered by a truly heinous and shitty Redskins season. "I was a bandwagoner in 2005," I then admit. And I was. Fairly fresh on the on East Coast and very desperately homesick for the FAR FRIENDLIER coast on the Pacific, I reveled in the playoffs against Washington. And I watched the NFC championship on a bench (I was too broke for a couch) in my (still well-decorated) apartment in Alexandria, Virginia. My parents were at that game, but,  these being the lean times that they were, I had no cable. Yet I was able to get two channels, one of which allowed me to watch the NFC championship. For me, it was like the 2005 version of Skype to my hometown (okay, the largest city near my hometown). Seattle won that game, and lord have mercy, I was done for. Having something from OVER THERE resonate in such a big way OVER HERE was a weird Seattle life line. Don't ask me to explain it. I can't.

The disaster of the Stealers (oops, Freudian slip there, the "Steelers") l-i-t-e-r-a-l-l-y stealing Super Bowl XL via super crappy refereeing sparked a 12th-(wo)man fire in me. I was hooked. Probably unhealthily.

I mean, I live in Maryland.

AND I MARRIED A NINERS FAN.

In case you live on the East Coast, permit me to explain: the Seahawks and Niners are like the Redskins and Dallas.

If you live on the West Coast, I don't have to explain.

If I do, you're not really that into football, but you didn't exit this page earlier when I advised you to do so.

Anyway. Seeing how every play made by Wilson or Brees or Kaepernick is, apparently, "property of the National Football League," I shall instead sum up this past weekend's football with Hofmann Family sound bytes:

Charlotte: I see #3! EEEEK! Go Wassail Wilson!!!!

Me: Charlotte, go put on your jammies.
Charlotte: Okay. I'm gonna wear my moose.
Me: Gold star for you, kiddo. It's Seahawks night. Know your roots. Neon orange moose jammies? Perfect. We're going blue-collar-slash-redneck tonight. High. Five. And, go hawks.

Charlotte: Brees can cry .  . .  if he wants to.

Chris: I actually prefer Seattle fans to Niner fans.
Me: Huh?
Chris: Niner fans can be thugs.
Me: I thought those were the Raider fans.
Chris: No. Raider fans are criminals.

Me: Lorelei, can you say, "Sea-HAWKS?"
Lorelei: Niiiiiiighhhhhhhhneeeerrrrr.
Chris: I think she said "Niners."
Me: She said "Seahawks." Seriously, dude. Tune in.

Charlotte's teacher: The kids are SO into the Seahawks and Niners. They can't stop talking about it.
[Chris and I swell with pride.]
Charlotte's teacher: Yeah. They also asked me if Charlotte's mommy and daddy would be fighting.

Charlotte: Daddy, you know my friend Otis?
Chris: In your class? Yep, I know Otis.
Charlotte: Otis says he likes the Seahawks.
Chris: Oh. Um. Do any of your friends like the Niners?
Charlotte: Nope. JUST. SEAHAWKS. They ALL like the Seahawks.
Me: She's evangelizing!!!
Chris: [disgusted look]

(As I drop Charlotte off at school)
Teacher: Charlotte! I like your Seahawks shirt!
[Charlotte beams.]
4-year-old Liam: Ms. Janie? I like the Seahawks, too.
Teacher [smirks]: You kids all like the Seahawks.
Me: Janie, you have a class full of awesome, awesome kids.

Me: Charlotte? You know my friend Molly?
Charlotte: Yes.
Me: She wants to know if she should root for the Niners or Seahawks on Sunday.
Charlotte: Seahawks.
Me: I agree. Can you tell Molly why?
Charlotte: Because I love the Seahawks.

So, there we go. A friend dubbed this weekend's game "Hofmann Bowl 2014," which we have self-indulgently embraced. Chris and I have also engaged in such mature antics as continually changing which team's flag waves valiantly in the front of our house, controlling the dress of our children, arguing with pretty much anyone we see who disagrees with our choice of team, and the ever-popular trash talk.

Charlotte's birthday party is in a week, and I asked if she wanted to ditch this Little Mermaid under-the-sea business and do a Seahawks theme. Alas, Ariel won that round. (Fun, totally irrelevant fact: Charlotte has designed her cupcakes down to the tiniest detail, which the sweet little bakery in town is making into a reality. I think I'm as excited for her party as she is. And I'm not a birthday party fan AT ALL.)

We shall see what happens on Sunday. Chris admitted that Seattle fans want to go to the Super Bowl WAY more than San Francisco, and that we have buckets more emotion invested than any other city on earth.

So, I'll close out this post with a commercial that encapsulates the spirit of our Hawks and the city they represent. Watch this, about our fullback, Derrick Coleman:

http://hollywoodlife.com/2014/01/15/derrick-coleman-ad-duracell-commercial-video/

GO. HAWKS.