Every time I retire a pair of sneakers, I like to think about all the places they have been during their tenure with me. Especially now, when I wear my Brooks or New Balance 95% of my waking hours. If you think about it, our shoes are what make contact with the world. They touch the very soil the earth is made of, and, we, by association, get to say, “We went here.” Or, “We visited there.”
During last football season, I acquired pre-game sideline p.asses to Lumen Field before a Seahawks game we had tickets to in Seattle. My husband calls it, simply: MECCA. We have done the stadium tour, twice, and during that behind the scenes peek at the professional football stadium, you are able to walk on the grass in one of the end zone areas. With the sideline passes, you are allowed on the same space that, once the game starts, will be filled with players, coaches and other team personnel. As we traveled down the tunnel that would lead us onto Mister Rain’s holy land, he walked far ahead of me. I had my white cane and was doing well on my own, but I yelled out to him, “I’m fine. Don’t worry about me!” You have to give him credit, he did turn around to check on me, but he also kept going.
It is true what they say about other senses being heightened when one is taken away. I was exponentially aware of the field under my feet once I exited the passage. If I was experiencing such a sensation of wonder and excitement what must my 12 man be feeling? I honestly can tell you that most of my elation was on his behalf, I was so happy for him I could have burst. In the game of life, my husband keeps his football close to his jersey, except when it pertains to his beloved Seattle Seahawks. Despite growing up, as well as continuing to live outside Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, Eagles country, he has been a diehard fan of the Washington state squad since it joined the National Football League in 1976. When I met him in 1990, my fate was sealed. When there is a specific logo everywhere you turn, your options are limited, if you want the relationship to last, that is. I am a proud 12 too, but this moment was for him.
We made our way down the rope line until it stopped close to the players’ bench. Some of the Seahawks were out warming up, but with their headphones and winter hats on, it was difficult to determine who they were without the aid of their names on the back of their uniforms. When they came back out fully dressed for kickoff, we could easily identify DK, Bobo, Geno, DJ, Bobby, Tyler, we saw them all. Pete Carroll stood 10 yards away from us throwing a football. Mister Rain took some great pictures of Coach, made all the more meaningful when he stepped down from the position two months later.
It was a unique experience seeing our team from that vantage point. The men are HUGE, even I could tell the size difference between them and the non-players. To be on the field, looking at the stands, quickly becoming packed with 12s in every version of Seahawks jersey ever made, was something to behold, my husband told me. I could make out the bright lights. The energy of the incoming crowd moved through me. It was electric.
When I photograph something, I am not quite sure what I am capturing until I can look at it later on my large iPad. I kept clicking away, though, to catch Mister Rain at all angles. At one point, leaning up against him from behind, I could see his head tilted back, moving from side to side. He was taking it all in. I felt my heart swell under the 12 on the front of my own jersey.
We were both wearing our hiking boots that day. They will be around a lot longer than our sneaks will be since we don’t lace them up nearly as often. Every time I do put them on, I will think of them firmly planted on Lumen Field. That can also be said of the three decades my husband and I have been together, no matter what our feet are encased in. We certainly do not have a perfect marriage. He drives me crazy and vice versa. But we love travel and doing unique activities as a team of two. We laugh a lot. We share common interests. We like to do nice gestures for each other, from small actions such as making him coffee in the morning to big surprises like securing sideline passes. He does the same for me. We have been through a lot, some might say more than most, and we are still standing. Together. On Lumen Field.
GO HAWKS!
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