the 13th man


Two people mentioned “the game” to me today and I had no clue what they were referring to. Turns out there was a football game played by our local team, the Seahawks. (Did you know that “seahawk” is another name for an osprey? I just learned that.) Anyway, today’s game was an important one for fans. The Seahawks won so now they go to the next round of the whatevers.

I’m hopelessly adrift when it comes to sports. Even back in the days when I received a daily newspaper, the first thing I did was remove the sports section and recycle it. “What’s this extra paper stuck in here?” I’d think. “Is that a mistake?”

The Seahawks fans frequently talk about the “12th man.” I believe there is a 12th man flag on top of the Space Needle right now. The 12th man means that the fans are so important that they constitute an additional player on the team. I guess I’m the 13th man. The man who doesn’t care so much, but is glad we won. I do like ospreys. And eagles and other raptors! Those are amazing birds.

Lots of people are happy today. I’m happy for them. The 13th man is right behind you, but not in a scary, ominous way. I’m behind you in a distracted, I’m-here-but-I’m-listening-to-a-podcast-about-ancient-rock-formations kind of way.

The real seahawk:



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