Triumph of the 12th Man

I ascribe last week's win over Baltimore to the triumphant return of the 12th Man.

The Diehard has harshly criticized Seattle fans for frittering away the once-formidable reputation of Seahawks Stadium. The 12th Man had allowed Atlanta's offense to call audibles, and the fans had as much quit in them as Seattle's players when we hosted Cincinnati.

But last week, the 12th Man stirred from its torpor and took control of the game from start to finish.

Instead of waiting for the team to inspire them, the fans started out fired-up. From my couch, it appeared that the crowd became electrified by the raising of the 12th Man flag by Tuskegee Airman George Hickman. The resulting patriotic fervor apparently evolved into a rabid and deafening barrage of decibels that evidently rattled the normally unflappable Joe Flacco, prompting uncharacteristic errors, including an interception. Seattle's defense also forced four Baltimore punts.

Crowd noise made the difference, prompting another inspired defensive performance, and fueling a credible dominance display by our oft-maligned running game. For the second consecutive week, the offensive line pried open cracks in a tough run defense, and Marshawn Lynch spent the entire game in Beast Mode, bulling through those creases and fighting forward as if the fate of the world depended on every inch of conquered ground.

Our offensive coaches displayed impressive tenacity, running the ball up the gut again and again, challenging the middle of a Baltimore defense dominated by the league's best run stuffer, Haloti Ngata. Most of those efforts yielded few or no yards, but with dogged persistence, Seattle steadily wore down the Ravens, grinding out more than 100 yards for Lynch by the end of the game.

The defining moment of the contest came on one of those short-gain run plays in the first half. The Beast broke through the line of scrimmage, dragging along some Ravens who clung feebly to his hips and knees, but then Ngata--Baltimore's Samoan mammoth--bear-hugged Lynch, suddenly halting the runner's forward progress. At that point, Seattle left guard Robert Gallery peeled back and knocked Ngata off of his teammate and onto his ass. This allowed Lynch to topple the pile forward for another yard or two.

It was classic old school football: three yards and a cloud of dust, though in this case, "dust" should be read as a metaphor for little rubbery shreds of Field Turf.

Though hampered by a nagging pectoral injury that has sharply limited his repetitions in practice, Tarvaris Jackson rose to the occasion. He threw accurately, completed clutch passes to sustain several drives, and protected scoring opportunities by avoiding turnovers.

Seattle stole three turnovers. Our special teams kick coverage teams recovered two fumbles. David Hawthorne picked off one of Flacco's passes, ran it back 34 yards, and would have taken it to the house, if the quarterback had not horse-collared the Heater.

However, our offense still struggles to transform turnovers into touchdowns. In all three cases, we had to settle for field goal attempts.

Fortunately, Steven Hauschka was perfect, converting five out of five field goals.


If Baltimore kicker Billy Cundiff had matched that rate of accuracy, Baltimore would have won.

The game was closer than it should have been. Officials flagged Seattle players 13 times for 100 yards of penalty yardage, plus a baker's dozen worth of do-overs for our opponents.

Fortunately, the sonic weight of our raucous home crowd tipped the scales in our favor.

Thanks to the 12th Man, Seattle emerged victorious last week. But to have any hope of salvaging the season, the offense needs to find a way to score more touchdowns, and the whole team needs to cut down on penalties. Sloppy play reflects shoddy coaching; the Seahawks must solve their penalty problem if they hope to compete credibly in subsequent contests.