November 8, 1992

I don’t come into these seasons with a theme in mind; like the Tarot, they are gradually revealed as I pull. This year, with chapters on Buddy Ryan’s war on every offense, the 1986 Bears making it through every game with their transmission broke and engine on fire, the expansion Bucs struggling to be born, and the Ravens’ backslide to mediocrity after their first title, a theme of great defenses burdened with miserable counterparts has emerged. To this collection of Major Arcana I add the crown jewel of such teams: the 1992 Seattle Seahawks.

It would be fair, if not exactly welcome, to call the 1992 Seattle Seahawks the best team to ever finish 2-14. By the reckoning of analytics website Football Outsiders and their proprietary DVOA stat, the Seahawks had the third best defense in the NFL, and first in the AFC. The secondary was led by Eugene Robinson and his seven picks; Robinson was also a fiery emotional man who could motivate his teammates. The defensive line was anchored by Cortez Kennedy, who picked up fourteen sacks from the defensive tackle position. Kennedy played like the cartoon cloud of dust and fists that represents a fight, and was so fearless that in college with the Miami Hurricanes he once punched the horse that rides on the Florida State sideline before a game. A defense with two pro bowlers, and in Kennedy a future Hall of Famer, could get to the playoffs with an offense that was even up to the standard of mediocre. For the Seattle Seahawks offense though, mediocre was as far as Proxima Centauri.

The Seahawks were in the midst of transition. Coach Chuck Knox was let go, and so was quarterback Dave Krieg, who had been more than serviceable and occasionally great over nine years, but that window had closed and a new one needed to be pried open. The succession would fall to either four-year vet Kelly Stouffer, acquired from the Cardinals for a basket of draft picks when he couldn’t agree to a rookie contract, or second year prospect Dan McGwire. McGwire was noteworthy for exactly two things: his height, and his last name. His 6’8’’ frame made him the tallest quarterback to that point in NFL history, and his last name was put to much better use in Major League Baseball by his older brother Mark. Stouffer won the job in camp, but was pitiful, completing fewer than half his passes for less than five yards an attempt, and was knocked out of a dreary loss against the Chargers. McGwire suffered the same fate next week in a shutout to the Cowboys. The Seahawks were now in the hands of third-stringer Stan Gelbaugh.

Stan Gelbaugh stands as a dark counterexample to the inspiring tale of someone like Kurt Warner; there is a reason the NFL does not send scouts to supermarkets and office parks. After failing to make camp with the Cowboys as a sixth-round pick, Gelbaugh bounced between the NFL and Canadian Football League, as a backup quarterback and punter, before deciding to quietly end his career. Gelbaugh was selling photocopiers and working toward a teaching certificate when a former teammate approached him about the new World League of Football. The WLAF was something at the midpoint of a developmental league and a money laundering scheme, set up by NFL owners to grow the game, with teams in London, Barcelona, and Frankfurt in addition to Sacramento, San Antonio, and Montreal. Gelbaugh led the London Monarchs to victory in the first World Bowl in June, and made it back to the NFL, making his first NFL start in November with the Phoenix Cardinals. His three-game stretch as Cardinals starter was nobody’s idea of a success, but he was able to stay in professional football without renewing his passport when the Seahawks picked him up in free agency. New Seattle Offensive Coordinator Larry Kenan had been Gelbaugh’s coach in London and liked the idea of a trusted face holding the clipboard.

Gelbaugh had to put down the clipboard when McGwire went down against Dallas, and it wasn’t long before he made a difference on the scoreboard with an interception that Dallas returned the other way. More feeble results followed, like a shutout against the Los Angeles Raiders, and a loss to the New York Giants that featured Gelbaugh’s only touchdown pass to that point. The schedule would provide no relief for Gelbaugh in his fourth start; after a bye week, the Seahawks would have to face the defending champions from Washington.

The team who won Super Bowl XXVII are on most shortlists for greatest team of all-time, yet they aren’t remembered as vividly as other champions. This could be because they were so soon eclipsed by their division rivals in Dallas, who shocked them in week one, making their championship defense tougher than they expected, or it could be their lack of personality and press savvy. Joe Gibbs, while a brilliant and versatile offensive mind, able to balance power running with deep passing, was not comfortable with the bluster people expect from coaches, and the rest of the team took after him. Mike Lupica likened them to “a convention of morticians,” and in the offseason, as some players toured with some players from the Cowboys to play charity pickup basketball games, they kept entirely to themselves, neither fraternizing with nor antagonizing the enemy. Michael Irvin, who knew from odd, called them an “odd bunch.” They were also the oldest team in the league by average age, and the planned rookie spark of first round pick Desmond Howard had failed to catch on, leading to an offensive regression. They entered the game against the Seahawks in a serious dry patch, having gone eleven quarters since their last offensive touchdown. As far as defending champions go, Washington was more vulnerable than most.

Not that a cold streak like that mattered against the Seahawks, a team who had more punts than points. The Seahawks defense kept things on level terms throughout the first half, stopping Washington twice on third and short situations, and picking off quarterback Mark Rypien. The Seahawks offense also did everything they could to keep things scoreless, with Gelbaugh throwing a pick to Wilber Marshall, and on the next drive getting strip-sacked by Marshall. The Seahawks were eventually the first team on the board with a short field goal to make it 3-0. Their best hope would be to sit on that lead for the duration, but Washington managed to chip away and get two field goals to take the lead before halftime. In the second half, although Eugene Robinson broke up a pass in the end zone, Washington was able to add another field goal, and finally in the fourth quarter the dam broke, with a twenty-six-yard strike from Rypien to Terry Orr to make the final score 16-3. The Seahawks were now averaging six points per game and had seven more punts than points on the season.

A thing people like to say despite there being thousands of counterexamples: defense wins championships. Teams of all compositions win championships, but defense alone gets you the same place bread alone gets you. And, frankly, there are victories that are not championships, with no accompanying trophy, and I would like them all to be celebrated. Even on a 2-14 team, there are performances of strength and bravery, and players you will remember long after their circumstances become something you have to look up.