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Link to a change.org petition for this bullshit
Note from the author: I sent this letter to Paul Allen at the VMAC and at his foundation. I'm posting it here as well in the hope that this idea--which I do believe is a plausible one--will be taken up for public discussion. In the comments section below, I've posted a link to a petition that you can sign if you want to publicly support the idea.
Dear Mr. Allen,
Perhaps I should start with an apology. I’m sorry. You see, I’m going to ask you for a gift. Maybe it’s better described as a donation. Quite a large one, it turns out. I’m sure you’re busy, and I’m sure you get hit up for donations a lot. So again, my apologies. But I have to ask.
I have to ask because I love the Seattle Seahawks—have since I was a little boy. I loved them when they mustered only two wins during the 1992 season, and I loved them when they finally, splendidly, won it all to conclude the 2013 season.
But more than that, I have to ask because I know that my story, and every imaginable variation of it, can be told by countless others in the Pacific Northwest. Those stories can be told by people of every stripe who care—really, truly care—about our Hawks.
These are people who understand that it’s okay to love a game. It’s okay to embrace the delirious highs and indescribable lows that numbers on a scoreboard so casually deliver. It’s okay because, for most of us, it’s not really about those numbers.
What is it really about? I don’t need to tell you—you already know. I’m certain you already know because I remember the spring of 1996. I was 15 years old, and terrified. Ken Behring was trying to take something from me, from all of us. But then, you. You rallied the city, bought the team, owned it the right way, and ushered in two decades of nearly unbroken success.
I’m coming around to that big request I mentioned, but first I need to let you in on a secret: During the Hawks’ Super Bowl-winning season, I cried. Twice. The first time was just after the final seconds ticked off the clock in XLVIII, and I turned and hugged my dad, my lifelong football companion. That was a big moment for us.
The other time? Those tears welled as I stood in CenturyLink field just before kickoff of the NFC Championship Game and watched you raise the 12th Man flag. In that moment—as I screamed like I was still that doggedly optimistic kid trying to will his team to victory in 1992, trying to keep his team from leaving in 1996—I let myself float away in the unadulterated joy that your stewardship of the Seahawks has brought this region.
In that moment, the fans were celebrating more than a team. We were celebrating you, and the community to which you’ve contributed so much. We were cheering for a local boy made good, whose talent and vision put him in a position to save our Seahawks.
And it’s because you saved our Hawks once before that now, finally, I have to ask. Would you please, upon your death (many years from now, we all hope), give the Seattle Seahawks to us, the fans?
As I said, it’s no small request. And I confess I don’t have the specifics worked out. Something along the lines of what’s worked so well in Green Bay, perhaps? A trust of some kind? You have a better mind for these kinds of details, I’m sure.
But if you did this, think what it would mean. It would mean that we would never again risk losing this team that we love. It would ensure that generations to come would get to know that rare, perfect feeling of community that swells during playoff time, when the Pacific Northwest is all 12s and jerseys and Hawkitecture and knowing nods and Go Hawks!
And, for what it’s worth, it would make you—already an icon in these parts—a legend.
Thanks for your time and consideration. Whatever you decide, I will always appreciate what you’ve done for this region. Go Hawks!
Sincerely,
Kevin Coe
---
Kevin Coe was born and raised in Tacoma, where he once warmed the bench for a Wilson High School football team that starred future Seahawk Marcus Trufant. His employment at the University of Utah requires that he now reside in Salt Lake City, but his heart will always live in the Pacific Northwest.
Note from the author: I sent this letter to Paul Allen at the VMAC and at his foundation. I'm posting it here as well in the hope that this idea--which I do believe is a plausible one--will be taken up for public discussion. In the comments section below, I've posted a link to a petition that you can sign if you want to publicly support the idea.
Dear Mr. Allen,
Perhaps I should start with an apology. I’m sorry. You see, I’m going to ask you for a gift. Maybe it’s better described as a donation. Quite a large one, it turns out. I’m sure you’re busy, and I’m sure you get hit up for donations a lot. So again, my apologies. But I have to ask.
I have to ask because I love the Seattle Seahawks—have since I was a little boy. I loved them when they mustered only two wins during the 1992 season, and I loved them when they finally, splendidly, won it all to conclude the 2013 season.
But more than that, I have to ask because I know that my story, and every imaginable variation of it, can be told by countless others in the Pacific Northwest. Those stories can be told by people of every stripe who care—really, truly care—about our Hawks.
These are people who understand that it’s okay to love a game. It’s okay to embrace the delirious highs and indescribable lows that numbers on a scoreboard so casually deliver. It’s okay because, for most of us, it’s not really about those numbers.
What is it really about? I don’t need to tell you—you already know. I’m certain you already know because I remember the spring of 1996. I was 15 years old, and terrified. Ken Behring was trying to take something from me, from all of us. But then, you. You rallied the city, bought the team, owned it the right way, and ushered in two decades of nearly unbroken success.
I’m coming around to that big request I mentioned, but first I need to let you in on a secret: During the Hawks’ Super Bowl-winning season, I cried. Twice. The first time was just after the final seconds ticked off the clock in XLVIII, and I turned and hugged my dad, my lifelong football companion. That was a big moment for us.
The other time? Those tears welled as I stood in CenturyLink field just before kickoff of the NFC Championship Game and watched you raise the 12th Man flag. In that moment—as I screamed like I was still that doggedly optimistic kid trying to will his team to victory in 1992, trying to keep his team from leaving in 1996—I let myself float away in the unadulterated joy that your stewardship of the Seahawks has brought this region.
In that moment, the fans were celebrating more than a team. We were celebrating you, and the community to which you’ve contributed so much. We were cheering for a local boy made good, whose talent and vision put him in a position to save our Seahawks.
And it’s because you saved our Hawks once before that now, finally, I have to ask. Would you please, upon your death (many years from now, we all hope), give the Seattle Seahawks to us, the fans?
As I said, it’s no small request. And I confess I don’t have the specifics worked out. Something along the lines of what’s worked so well in Green Bay, perhaps? A trust of some kind? You have a better mind for these kinds of details, I’m sure.
But if you did this, think what it would mean. It would mean that we would never again risk losing this team that we love. It would ensure that generations to come would get to know that rare, perfect feeling of community that swells during playoff time, when the Pacific Northwest is all 12s and jerseys and Hawkitecture and knowing nods and Go Hawks!
And, for what it’s worth, it would make you—already an icon in these parts—a legend.
Thanks for your time and consideration. Whatever you decide, I will always appreciate what you’ve done for this region. Go Hawks!
Sincerely,
Kevin Coe
---
Kevin Coe was born and raised in Tacoma, where he once warmed the bench for a Wilson High School football team that starred future Seahawk Marcus Trufant. His employment at the University of Utah requires that he now reside in Salt Lake City, but his heart will always live in the Pacific Northwest.
Comments
Fuck @owen16, anyone who wants to turn the only championship pro sports team Seattle has had in my lifetime over to Kshama Sawant and Michael Shiosaki's husband deserves to DIAFF.
Edit: regarding spoonie's post, I'm willing to bet David Allan would help you with your Kevin "problem" for enough hookers and blow