Welcome back to View From the Q, everybody—is it me, or did that offseason seem especially long? It seems like at least two years since I closed the last column of the 08-09 season with the words, “Re-sign Darren Sproles.” Happily, the Bolts did in fact retain the small but mighty one, and convince future HOFer LT to take a pay cut—a move I think should always get more publicity. A much bigger deal than getting pulled over for a DUI, or holding out of training camp. Other than that, they didn’t really change anything—they get a lot better this season with the return of Shawne Merriman, but that’s about it. The message is clear: the organization feels they have the tools, and with a lot of guys coming into contract negotiations at the end of the season (including Philip Rivers AND Merriman), it’s obvious they have one year left to win a Super Bowl, or watch the franchise get stripped for parts and rebuilt. Again. Last night’s game against the Seahawks is the first step on the road to finding out whether or not they finally, finally have it in them—let’s get started.
1. The phrase “it’s preseason for ___ too” has become kind of a mid-August cliché, one you hear thrown around a lot by bumbling sports anchors and commentators, but…it holds some non-cliché-y water. On our way down to the game, Ryan “Leaky Pipes” realized we’d forgotten which freeway/exit to take. It is only our fifth year making the trips, to be fair.
2. Also joining us on the trip were JJ “It Should Be Called View From the Murph” Fiddler and Dan “I Like to Heckle” Steinbacher—we utilized Pipes’ very excellent field section seats, which put us in easy heckling range of the Seahawks’ bench. Unfortunately, very little of this material is printable in this family publication.
3. It would be impossible to oversell the importance of Merriman’s return to this crowd. They love him—the noise when he was announced in the starting lineup (last, by the way) was deafening, in preseason. The Jumbotron camera panned to about a dozen kids rocking the Merriman Mohawk—when you’re in their barbershop, you know you’re in their hearts.
4. It was fun sitting in the field section for this game, because these were the same seats we had last year, and we actually recognize a lot of the same ‘Hawks fans who made the trip out—Seneca Wallace’s family, two granola-munching long-haired Seattle hippies, and Owen Schmitt’s contingency, who I had a minor online skirmish with last season (I had heckled Schmitt about how he was going to be cut, only to have his West Virginia fan club come after me about printing inaccurate information—to my neverending, and very serious, journalistic chagrin, Schmitt was in fact the starting fullback for the team this year).
5. A woman walked by us before the games started wearing a Nate Burleson ‘Hawks jersey, with “Mrs.” put on it in sequins. We were wondering if maybe she was a stalker at first, until she turned and we realized she was wearing $500 sunglasses. Guessing that’s the real deal.
6. Two quick on-field observations (normally there are way more of these, but I recognize here that it’s preseason, and that my love for preseason football is both unusual and unhealthy). One, if the early going is any indication, Antonio Gates is going to get plenty of attention. Two, if the late going is any indication, Antwan Applewhite is going to add even more depth to a stacked linebacker corps. Four solo tackles and a pick—he was really flying around, and seemed very sure of himself.
7. Okay, a justification of the obsession with preseason football—and forgive me if you’ve read this rant before. I am very sympathetic to non-fans’ arguments about the pollution that hovers over modern professional sports (a smog cover, if you will). The money, the greed, the arrogance—I get it. You’re right. But in the second half of preseason, when all those players are resting their legs or diddling around on the exercise bikes, the journeymen come to play—the fourth quarter of a preseason game is filled with athletes who are still world-class, but who are totally unknown, and who are very literally playing for their jobs. It’s simple math—most teams have a roster somewhere in the mid-80s for the start of preseason, and will have to cut thirty or so guys before the season starts. So these guys in the fourth quarter, guys you’ve never heard of, have to do something big, and they’ll go all out to try and make something happen. It’s passionate, it’s nearly anonymous, and it’s a little sloppy because everyone’s putting it all out there. It’s the best of football, even if LT got his four carries and is already enjoying a nice shower.
8. Always shocks me how little teams pay attention when they’re on the sideline in preseason. Most of this Seahawks bench spent the bulk of the game watching fights in the crowd, laughing about on-field corporate-sponsored contests, or pointing out hot San Diegans to each other (Mrs. Burleson, Nate behaved himself).
9. Jersey of the week: each week, just like last year, I’ll pick the best (stupidest) custom jersey that I can see in the crowd. Last night, it was a guy who, for whatever reason, had a #66 ‘Hawks jersey with “Iron Maiden” on the back. Anyone want to venture an explanation there?
10. So, sad to say, if the first game was any indication—and there’s no saying that it is—the Bolts have a long road to hoe. Was hoping to see that LT was back in form, as he gets his first preseason carries in five years—he looked better laterally, but still averaged under three yards a carry. Was hoping to see some diversification in play-calling—and didn’t. Was hoping to see that the return of Merriman spurred a revival in the pass-rush—really didn’t happen. Even the things I took for granted, like Rivers, were off—he looked loosey-goosey today, very unfocused and not very accurate. Charlie Whitehurst was not unimpressive at the third-QB spot, behind playoff hero Billy Volek, but while he did almost muster a great comeback in the fourth quarter of the 20-14 loss, he did also turn the ball over three times. It was that kind of night—nothing to be devastated about, nothing that inspired any real optimism. Except that we did ultimately remember how to get to the stadium—and of course, it’s hard not to be inspired by the continuing, if baffling, presence of Owen Schmitt.