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Seattle shows it's for real

By GARY SHELTON
Published January 15, 2006

SEATTLE - Their secret is out now. Their mystery has been uncovered. Finally, the world has caught on to the Seattle Seahawks.

Turns out, they are not soft.

Turns out, they are not pliable.

Turns out, they are not Shaun Alexander and the Pips.

The Seahawks, that unappreciated bunch of unnoticeables tucked away on the top left shelf of a nation, introduced themselves Saturday to a nation that has rarely noticed them. You know all those guys in the background of the Alexander highlights on ESPN? Yeah, the ones in the candy-color uniforms. Those guys.

Turns out, there is a bit of pluck to them, after all.

Turns out, they are more than a good record built on a bad schedule.

Turns out, there is more than one man in the huddle.

Yep, this is a team to be reckoned with, all right. There is resiliency here, and calm. There is toughness here, and tenacity. Outside of Seattle, that city built underneath a waterfall, who knew?

The Seahawks not only won Saturday, they won without league MVP Alexander, the guy in charge of touchdowns. Imagine the Bulls winning a playoff game without Michael Jordan. Imagine the Broncos without John Elway. Imagine the Vandellas without Martha Reeves. That's what the Seahawks accomplished against the Washington Redskins in a 20-10 victory. They won without their face, their weapon.

For most of this season, for most of five seasons, Alexander has been everything for the Seahawks. He rushed for 1,880 yards this season, and he scored 28 touchdowns, and by the time the announcers got out the rest of his statistics, he was out of the game. On the Seahawks' 15th play, Alexander was hit by Redskins tackle Cornelius Griffin. For half an hour, Alexander sat dazed, unable to remember what had happened. He never returned, leaving with 9 yards on six carries.

"I'm sure that the average person thought we would fold up right there," said Chuck Darby, the old Bucs defensive tackle. "That's all everyone thinks we're about, anyway. Alexander, Alexander, Alexander. But it's about the brotherhood. Shaun's a great player, but we have a lot of weapons around here."

Not that anyone has noticed. Historically, the Seahawks have been just another team, a franchise that didn't matter often and when it did, didn't matter much. Oh, there have been a few great players and a few great seasons, but once the big kids have taken over in the playoffs, the Seahawks have gone home. Before Saturday, Seattle hadn't won a playoff game since 1984. Even before Alexander's injury, there were some who thought the same thing might happen in these playoffs. The Seahawks were 13-3 this season, but six of those wins came in a weak division. By the time Seattle got to Philadelphia, the Eagles were finished. By the time it got to the Colts, the Colts were on cruise control. In other words, there was still a perception the Seahawks could be had.

This game changed all that. It showed the flair of Matt Hasselbeck, a quarterback who sometimes scrambles like he's playing in traffic, the speed of Darrell Jackson and the power of the offensive line. It showed that Mike Holmgren, yesterday's genius, still has a few brain cells left.

"I think the nation saw the resilience of this team, the character, the teamwork," said Seahawks president Tim Ruskell, the former Bucs assistant general manager. "We're not a collection of stars. We don't blow you away. We're really better than the sum of our parts. These guys play hard, they fly around, they give you everything they have."

Also, as a team, they seem to swallow adversity pretty well. The loss of Alexander didn't stun for long.

"It's a great feeling in our locker room," Hasselbeck said. "When you have to overcome adversity, there is something a bit more special about it.'

Alexander should be fine by the NFC Championship Game. He was smiling and laughing after the game, and Holmgren offered this bit of medical insight: "If you showed him a picture of a truck, I think he would know it was a truck and not a butterfly."

Such a line is typical of the Seahawks, a loose, likable bunch. From Hasselbeck hassling back Mack Strong about his speed, suggesting his 34-yard run was handy because it ran out so much clock, from Joe Jurevicius rolling his eyes in mock amusement when asked about Jackson's toughness, they seem to enjoy the others around them.

At the team training facility, there is a photograph of the Seahawks posed in front of Mount Ranier. Every few hundred feet, someone has put up a score, game by game.

About 80 percent of the way up, the scores stop. Playoff ridge, the players call it. Around various lockers, you can see climbing pins, linked like chains. This, then, was their most impressive step. From here, the Seahawks can see the Super Bowl in the distance.

From here, the rest of us can finally see a team through the rain.

[Last modified January 15, 2006, 01:48:18]