Well, whadda ya know. Russell Wilson isn’t Superman after all. The Denver Broncos’ Number 3 is a mere mortal who led his team to a 16-17 loss against the Seattle Seahawks last night. (He left the Seahawks to join the Broncos earlier this year.)
True, it takes an entire team to lose — or win — a game. But for some weeks now we in Denver have been hearing just the opposite, that Wilson is practically a god who by dint of his mere presence will confer victory on the Broncos. Maybe that hero worship will end now. I hope.
Not that I don’t like Wilson. I’ve just been very conflicted. For years my son was crazy about him and the Seahawks, and much of that rubbed off on me. To make matters worse, my son hates the Broncos — not something you make known in this state. I’ve never cared a whole lot about them one way or the other.
When Wilson left the Hawks to come here, my son made it known that Wilson was now dead to him. And the Seahawks too, I think. Hard for me to empathize with such an abrupt change in loyalty. I was surprised but only mildly disappointed that Wilson left a team I really liked to join one I never cared a lot about.
Then the Broncos played the Seahawks. And lost. And I realized during the game that I was quietly rooting for Seattle, the supposed underdog. Maybe now people here, especially sportscasters, will come back to earth and just report on football as usual (ie, BW, Before Wilson).
But I’m not holding my breath.
Featured image: Gabriel Christus/Denver Broncos