Who are these guys?

Perhaps the next time we retire the jersey of a Canton-bound Seahawk, we should hold the ceremony before kickoff. Seattle played poorly in every phase of the game Sunday, until the two-minute warning near the end of the first half, when the jersey of Walter Jones rose to the rafters. After that, the Seahawks started scoring, and our defense shut out Carolina. Perhaps if it had been a pregame ceremony, we might have seen our team play the entire game with conviction.

It is tempting to imagine that Seattle simply had to get one more half of bad football out of their system before they could get down to business and figure out how to win again. One would like to think that Sunday's comeback marked the beginning of something big, that the team has turned the corner, that the momentum generated in the second half last Sunday will carry over into this week's game against San Francisco, and perhaps beyond.

But before we get too carried away, let's remember that the comeback came at the expense of Carolina, the league's worst team. If you're going to spot anyone a 14-point lead, it should be the cellar dwellers of the NFL. No one else gives you so good a chance to mount a comeback. The Panthers are accustomed to quitting and losing. Once Seattle took control of the game, you could see the dejection in the faces and body language of Carolina's players. As always, this was most evident in the case of the most accomplished Panther, wide receiver Steve Smith, who spent much of the second half sitting on the pine, pouting while Seattle's offense chewed up the clock and ran up the score until our lead was secure. To their credit, Carolina rallied and put together a good drive near the end of the game, though our defense kept them out of the end zone.

There were some genuinely hopeful signs.

After spotting Carolina 14 points, our defense came together and pitched a shutout for the rest of the game. Suddenly, we could reliably stuff the run, pressure the quarterback, and cover receivers.

Our own reserve receivers stepped up and made some plays in the absence of our starting wideouts and tight end.

Our offensive line looked good in the second half, particularly the much-maligned right side. Marshawn Lynch made several good runs on the power right play, yards made possible because Sean Locklear reliably sealed his man inside.

My favorite play of the game was Lynch's third touchdown. Seattle lined up as if to run the power right play again. Before the snap, Hasselbeck read Carolina's defense, called an audible, and realigned the running backs in the I-formation. Unsure what was happening, the Panthers stayed put. In any case, the quick snap gave the defense little time to react. Instead of running right, Lynch took the handoff up the middle, where Matt's presnap read had detected some softness. Center Chris Spencer created a gaping hole there, driving the defensive tackle inside, passing him off to teammate Mike Gibson, and then running downfield to take out a linebacker. Fullback Michael Robinson nailed his block, springing Marshawn into space. But it's the NFL, so space collapses quickly. Several fleet defenders converged on the running back, but Lynch eluded some and ran through the rest en route to paydirt.

That one play encapsulates the promise of the Seahawk offense.

Audibles that turn into run touchdowns don't register in a quarterback's stats, but when we evaluate Hasselbeck's performance, we need to factor in his field leadership. Only a savvy veteran quarterback gives you that edge.

We have good running backs. When our blockers execute and give them room, our runners will make plays.

The most encouraging thing about our ability to run in the second half was that the Carolina defense generally knew we intended to run, but they still couldn't stop us. For the first time in years, we were able to field a credible ground game under those conditions. Of course, we did it against the worst team in the league at a point in the contest where they seemed to be giving up. Only time will tell whether this was a flash in the pan or a sign of things to come.

Some people are still asking, 'Who are these guys?' By now we should know.

A quick review of the season reminds us that these Seahawks are heartbreakers.

After dominating San Francisco in the home opener, we let humble Denver defeat us.

We survived mighty San Diego, only to let lamblike St. Louis school us.

We surprised Chicago on the road, and then thumped Arizona at home. But then got blown out in Oakland, and let the New York Giants humiliate us in our house.

Coming off those blowouts, we went to Arizona and looked solid again. We competed on the road against New Orleans (but lost), and then laid down meekly for Kansas City.

And you know what happened last week.

So, who are these guys?

The Seahawks are a rebuilding team. We have talent, but not much depth, so injuries impair us more than most teams. We are inconsistent. Most weeks, we compete. Sometimes, we quit. Sometimes, our coaches call the right mix of offensive plays, and sometimes they essentially forfeit the game with a lack of creativity. When they're in a groove, our defensive coaches dial up the right pressure packages and coverage schemes, but when they're not, we don't seem to have a defense at all.

Our coaches seem strong on inspiration--which works well when the game proceeds according to plan--but weak when it comes to instilling discipline and perseverance in tough times. To their credit, the coaches seem to be learning, and as the roster churn has begun to die down, there are signs that the team is gelling.

And, by the grace of playing in the NFC West, we might make the playoffs. In any other division, we'd be playing for pride alone at this point.
The best bet seems to be that these Seahawks will continue to frustrate we hapless diehards for the rest of the season.

But--in true diehard fashion--I'm crossing my fingers and hoping that the Seattle team we saw in the second half shows up on Sunday in San Francisco.