RENTON, Wash. — So, where is the buzz? Where is the tingling sense of anticipation? Where is the mounting excitement that usually hits with a welcome blast of adrenaline when the season opener is just around the corner?
It's all missing in action (or inaction), at least in my observation. This is shaping up as the least anticipated, least hyped Seahawks' season in recent memory — surely the most benign of the Pete Carroll era, which began in 2010.
It's an outcome that was set into motion, of course, on March 8, when quarterback Russell Wilson was traded to the Denver Broncos. And not even the NFL's Jerry-rigged opening-day matchup of Wilson's Broncos coming to Seattle to face the Seahawks on Monday night, Sept. 12, is going to whip up anything more than a temporary, and largely superficial, frenzy.
Usually at about this time, it's standard to conjure best-case scenarios of things that could go right and propel your team into the playoffs, or even, if the stars align, the Super Bowl. But no matter how hard you stare at Seattle's roster — which came into focus on Tuesday when it was cut down to 53 — it's hard to see such a path. At least, not without the biggest stretch since Manute Bol loosened up before a game.
Following the Wilson trade, there was an initial surge of interest in who would replace him. Would it be Drew Lock, acquired from Denver in the Wilson deal and possessing at least the theoretic promise of untapped potential? Would the Seahawks trade up to select one of the many intriguing QBs available in the draft? Or take a flyer on a hidden gem in a later round, a la Wilson? Or would they pursue the likes of Baker Mayfield, Jimmy Garoppolo, or another veteran signal-caller in need of a change of scenery?
No, no, no, and no. The Seahawks made no quarterback acquisitions after Lock to change the dynamics, or add to the drama. Geno Smith, who hasn't been a starting QB in the NFL since 2014 (and not a great one then), won a quarterback competition that was heavily tilted in his favor. And therein lies the main source of the lackluster response to the impending season.
Smith, while appreciated as a solid backup, does not move the needle as the man in charge after a decade of the undeniably charismatic Wilson. The departed Wilson had proven bona fides as one who could lead a team to the greatest heights, and each year provided the promise of a true breakout in which he would cook his way to the ever-elusive MVP season.
Smith, on the other hand, offers a low-ceiling, high-floor profile. He won't make many mistakes, he'll protect the ball, but there is little indication of a quarterback who can win games with his arm and elevate an offense with his prowess and improvisation. Instead of the intrigue of untapped potential, or the allure of change, the Seahawks have gone the safe but uninspiring route. And a fan base collectively yawns.
That may be what Pete Carroll thinks is the best strategy to make something of 2022, but it's not exactly the way to work the fan base into a froth. Certainly not coming off a 7-10 season in a division that's packed with playoff teams, and the reigning Super Bowl champion. And particularly not at a time when the Mariners are uncharacteristically seizing the local spotlight with a serious run at their first playoff berth in two decades.
There's little doubt this is a rebuilding Seahawks season, even if Carroll won't admit that. Or maybe it's closer in aesthetic to what Mariners GM Jerry Dipoto termed a "step back" in 2019 when they gutted the roster of a team that won 89 games the previous year but still finished eight games outside the playoffs. Regardless of what you call it, Las Vegas has put the Seahawks' over-under of wins at 5.5, tied for third-lowest in the NFL, and Sports Illustrated this week predicted a 3-14 season for Seattle.
The Mariners experienced the short-term pain that comes with a rebuild strategy, and now they're showing the payoff when it works out. For Seahawks fans, there is definitely intrigue that comes with watching young players trying to make their mark for the future. However, the process can be a little harder to appreciate in football, where, for example, promising offensive linemen like Charles Cross and Abe Lucas do their work in the trenches. It's more difficult to ascertain their effectiveness, as opposed to, say, a Julio Rodriguez, whose vast potential was readily apparent in every aspect, including statistics, as he ascended.
The Seahawks, however, appear in danger of being mired in the worst kind of no-man's land — unfettered mediocrity. They may be good enough to approach .500 if everything goes right, but not quite good enough to take it any farther. There is certainly a segment of the fan base rooting for the "blow it all up" scenario whereby the Seahawks tank the season in exchange for a high draft pick to obtain a potential quarterback of the future. Now that might be exciting (and fraught with danger), like the "shoot the moon" strategy in Hearts.
It does not appear Pete Carroll shares that sentiment, however, and his vote is the only one that matters. Much of Tuesday was spent hyper-analyzing the Seahawks' cuts to get down to the limit, including the surprise inclusions of Marquise Blair and Justin Coleman on the list (and to a lesser extent, Freddie Swain).
But right now, it's not a roster that inspires much passion or promise — two qualities usually in high output this time of year.
