I see Red

So, we have no offense without Marshawn Lynch.

Our starting running back hurt himself in pregame workouts. On the first drive, our offense seemed unfazed. Charlie Whitehurst hit a few short passes, we made a few first downs, and then we disintegrated, foiled by false starts, a delay of game penalty, and a sack.

And that first drive represented one of Seattle's more competent offensive showings of the day.

For most of the rest of the game, we couldn't run (but rarely tried), we couldn't protect Whitehurst from Cleveland's pass rush, and we kept trying to force the ball downfield to covered receivers instead of taking what the defense allowed us underneath. Jesus of Clemson put in a remarkably un-Christlike peformance. He underthrew, overthrew, and threw behind open receivers. However, even when Whitehurst put the ball on target, his teammates often dropped the ball. Seattle showed brief signs of life with the no-huddle in the second half, but our offensive coaches' short attention span and refusal to persist in anything useful doomed us to few yards, few points, and futility.

The Browns had a poor day on offense, too, but they maintained possession for more than 40 minutes by sticking stubbornly to the run and to the short passing game.

Seattle's defense, meanwhile, performed heroically, swarming to stop the run, abuse Cleveland quarterback Colt McCoy, and frustrate his efforts to deliver the ball to his receivers. Even an injury to Walter Thurmond--Marcus Trufant's backup--did nothing to improve the Browns aerial prospects.

David "Heater" Hawthorne played a good game, hitting hard and grabbing a clutch interception.
 
Red Bryant rampaged like a man possessed, dominating the line of scrimmage and stuffing run after run.

Bryant's dominance continued on special teams. He blocked two field goals, a rare feat in a season, much less a single game.

Our punt and kickoff coverage units kept Joshua Cribbs in check throughout the contest.

The otherwise remarkable performance by the defense and special teams was marred by two penalties.
 
Early in the game, Kam Chancellor came in on a corner blitz. He turned a drive-killing sack into a Cleveland first down by spearing McCoy in the back instead of simply tackling him. Pete Carroll complained hotly to the officials. From the broadcasting booth, former Coach Jim Mora defended Chancellor, arguing that the spearing was unintentional.

Carroll and Mora both thereby revealed a character deficit as alarming as their feeble grip on reality.

Spearing is never accidental. Good football coaches teach players to see what you're tackling, because lowering your head is dangerous, both for the tackler and his target. Second, if you lower your head, you have to take your eyes off the target at the last second, which in some cases can allow your target to elude you. Finally, when you lower your head, that makes it more difficult to wrap up and make a sure tackle.

Slick Pete and Jimmy No-Mora are both defensive coaches, so they should understand spearing better than someone with my modest coaching experience does. (I coached offense and special teams, mainly.)

Since spearing is less safe and less sound than form tackling, the only possible explanation for it is malice, the desire to inflict injury upon an opponent. It's poor sportsmanship. The official was right to throw the flag.

In the second half, Kennard Cox got flagged for a block in the back, erasing what would have been a game-winning touchdown punt return by Leon Washington. Again, Carroll and Mora objected. Mora opined  that the infraction did not alter the outcome of the play, as the defender probably could not have caught up with Washington. That analysis is likely correct, but it merely raises the question of why Cox felt the need to cheat in the first place.

Chancellor and Cox are good young players. When they make bonehead mistakes like that, we should not blame their youth. We should blame their coaches.