We were excited for various reasons when our bestie, Kelsey, asked us to join her for the Seahawks first preseason game against the Vikings. Most importantly, our social calendar has a lot of vacancies at this particular time. Secondly, the price of tickets was only $40. From what I’ve been told, regular season tickets are nearly impossible to secure and cost an arm and a leg. I am rather fond of my limbs so I reckoned seeing the Seahawks live was not something we were going to cross off of any Seattle bucket list. Lastly, Jarred has been an avid Minnesota fan for the last seventeen years. All in all, it was a win for all parties involved.
I personally don’t have an allegiance to any NFL teams due chiefly to Oklahoma not having one. Also, my fundamental understanding of football is minimal at best. Although considering I am now a resident of Washington and not opposed to jumping on the bandwagon, I decided to attempt game day appropriate apparel. The closest garments I could pull together resembling a Seahawk fan was blueish colored jeans and a grey top. Obviously my wardrobe needs some help in the fan base department. Jarred had already mentioned he would not be wearing purple to a stadium full of Seattle fans. However, when I walked into the living room I immediately noticed Jarred’s attire mimicked my own with blue jeans and gray t-shirt. (Side note -Jarred and I tend to unwittingly match quite frequently.) I was personally fine with our corresponding outfits, but Jarred apparently wasn’t as enthused. He reversed his dress choice and went with grey pants and a blue shirt.
One of the numerous things we love about our apartment is the proximity to the city. On Friday afternoon after a short thirty-minute stroll we met up with Kelsey and her coworker, Maddy, at Pyramid Breweries prior to the game. I was able to instantly surmise that Seattle loves their Seahawks like we Oklahomans love our Thunder, which I can appreciate. I also suspect it was obvious Jarred and I were not true fans based on our apparel alone.
Jarred wanted to witness kickoff so we began to migrate with the masses toward the game. As we entered CenturyLink Field we had to stop for necessities before beginning the ascent up several ramps. The labyrinth of ramps not only took us approximately 15 minutes to climb, but also deposited us about as far away from our destination as physically possible. Needless to say, Jarred was not a spectator during the start of the game.
When we finally located our seats they were occupied. Kelsey began chatting with the inhabitants and after much confusion on their part they vacated our seats. I wasn’t expecting to view anything unless it was on the jumbotron, but was pleasantly surprised with our vantage point.
During the game I questioned what hand motion supporters of the Seahawks use. At Oklahoma State we form pistols with our hands to indicate pistols firing. It’s the wild, wild Midwest y’all. Kelsey and Maddy didn’t know the answer, so we took our inquiries to the neighboring season ticket holders. They too could not resolve our wonderings. Their hand signal is either nonexistent or only known by a select few, so I decided it was time to gift the Seahawks a worthy one – flapping both arms similar to a bird in flight while also squawking “ca-caw!” If you happen to tune into any Seattle games in the future I would imagine you’d witness this move catching on like wild fire. You’re welcome, Seattle, you’re welcome.
Unfortunately for Jarred his Vikings were not triumphant. They ended up losing by seven. As we vacated the stadium accompanied by around 67,000 of our closest friends we decided a celebratory (or consolation) nightcap was needed. Elysian Fields Brewing became our destination. After our libations we parted ways and Jarred and I began the trek home. We stumbled across a part of town that peaked our interest. We later learned that it is called Pioneer Square.
As we were meandering through the area our appetites got the best of us. Our options were bleak at this hour, but we found what appeared to be a Greek restaurant to slip into. Upon closer examination we realized how limited our expectations had been prior to entering. The menu proudly displayed pictures of gyros, falafels, pita bread, salad, hummus, etc., but casually intermingled were photographs of a Philly cheese steak sandwich, cheeseburger and chicken fingers. Then we noticed another cuisine proudly displayed on a warming tray, but not a featured item – pizza. This goldmine of a restaurant truly was a one-stop shop for all your stomach’s deepest desires. With our slices of pizza in hand jbabe and I happily continued our journey home. My only regret of the night is not catching the name of this stellar food establishment. I’m assuming we’ll wander back by to conduct some market research in the near future.