Feb. 2, 2014
I am newly ten years old in the back half of my fourth grade school year.
The game starts at 3:30 in my grandparent’s living room, but for my dad, the game starts at 6:30. My dad, the die-hard Seattle Seahawks fan, was at Super Bowl 48. The Hawks won it all — 43 to 8. What a game to be a Seahawks fan. The first, and admittedly only, Lombardi trophy in the franchise’s history was secured by Russel Wilson, Marshawn Lynch, Golden Tate and Doug Baldwin, the dream team.
The pictures my dad was sending back home were priceless. He looked like a kid in a candy store, with the widest grin on his face. I remember the pride I felt to be a Seahawks fan, all thanks to my dad bringing me to a game every season. One game every year he taught me how to scream while we were on defense and how to sit quietly as we played offense. He forged me into a good fan − a part of the Twelfth Man.
Jason and Lowell Gordon at Super Bowl 48. Photo courtesy of Natalie Gordon.
Sept. 12, 2022
I am eighteen years old now, a few weeks into my first semester of college.
Ironically, the Seattle Seahawks are once again playing the Denver Broncos, just as they did in Super Bowl 48. However, this is not a championship game, and my dad is not in New York. It was the season opener for the Seahawks 2022-23 season. The first season that Russel Wilson has not been the quarterback since 2012. The first season I was not at home for.
Thankfully, the one thing that hadn't changed was the Seahawks winning, 17 to 16. Of course, my dad was telling me all about the game in between his famous growls of ‘DEFENSE.’
Photo courtesy of Natalie Gordon.
March 2023
I am nineteen years old, a bit into my second semester of college.
The NFL season is over for now and teams are waiting for week one once again. And, oddly, this season has been one of the best I’ve had the opportunity to watch. Watching the games alone is lonely at times, but then we get an interception or a “big stop.” And from 172 miles away, I swear I can hear my dad’s yelling. The same yelling that taught me how to be a good fan. The yelling I now participate in when I get to go to my one game a year. Sometimes it's two… if I scream ‘defense’ loud enough.
This season I have become more interested in football and my dad and I text about it sometimes. It’s becoming something I get to bond with him over, even if we’re in different states. Talking about the trade rumors or the chances the Seahawks have next season has brought us closer together. He has instilled this in me and it’s a passion I owe to him. Just like my passion for photography, he has taught me everything I know about football.
I am incredibly grateful to have this bonding experience with my dad – it has helped make me who I am. Bonding with our loved ones, whether they be a parent, grandparent, sibling or chosen family, can be an incredibly unique and a special memory. Even if it is one of the most cliché experiences on the planet, I do urge you to create or recall those meaningful memories.
To my father, thank you for bringing me to those games as a kid. I hope they never end. Now I’m a die-hard Seattle Seahawks fan too, but maybe not quite as loud as you are.
And to any Twelves that happen to be reading this, I apologize to your eardrums if you accidentally sit next to my dad and I.
Photo courtesy of Natalie Gordon.
Natalie Gordon is a photographer for The Beacon. She can be reached at gordonn26@up.edu
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