Power is seductive. Everything in nature is drawn to it. It propels things forward and stops them instantly. It destroys. It creates. Insects will fly to their own death, enchanted by the opportunity just to feel it. People are no different. But power is also fleeting. Once you have it, others want to take it from you. They are coming, Seattle. Armies of padded warriors have set their sights on this city and the crown our team controls.

They are prepared to storm our gates. Those that have what others want often build up walls to protect it, and hope those walls cannot be breached. Hordes of invaders come expecting to meet a defensive host. Few will leave the safety of their bunkers to engage the army at their door. Few will take the fight to their enemies. The Seahawks are among those few.

Carolina enters our land expecting a fat and happy king to be sitting on the NFL throne. They are hoping that the crown has corrupted the Seahawks and their fans and dulled their resolve. They are counting on a hole in our defenses born of wavering discipline and arrogance. What they will find is 68,000 banshees and 53 of the fiercest warriors, forged together in the toughest of battles.

There will be no waiting for an attack from the visitor. We will bring the fight to whoever chooses to play the lamb in this slaughterhouse. This has never been about one ring or one climb to the mountaintop. It is about maximizing the talent and ferocity that this team and this city have to offer. This is the Age of the Hawk, and our reign has only just begun.

We will no longer cower and fear the worst. Our colors are worn with pride. Our scars will be badges of honor earned through the quest for greatness. We are now armed with Hatori Hanzo steel. The ground shakes when someone dares oppose us. Their attempts to simulate the terror we bring are farcical and pointless. When the game begins, they are always just eleven. We are 12.

That is not thunder striking their body. It is Kam Chancellor putting a hurt on your entire bloodline. Future generations will be born feeling echoes of the pain you felt in that instant.

As the pain subsides and the ringing your ears lessens, you will hear the cackling of Richard Sherman as he races the other direction with the ball your foolishing thought was your property. Dare to get up and try to stop him and you will quickly regret it as a sea of blue sledgehammers swarm around you.

The attacks are not reserved for the legion on defense. This offense hits harder than most NFL defenses. That is not a line of scrimmage. It is the starting line of your demolition derby. This offensive line will divide you like the Red Sea. Say goodbye to the man standing next to you because you may never see him again.

The gift for managing to avoid those lineman is a 285 pound fullback who is probably a better defensive player than you are. Should you have the unfortunate experience of standing in the path of Marshawn Lynch, you will learn what it feels like to be a deer in the way of a Mack truck.

Russell Wilson will offer you a hand with a smile, and you will wonder if he is being kind or sadistic. It might be better to just stay down.

In your land, you may be a knight or a lord or a prince. Do not fret about what has happened to you here. This is the land of kings. It is an honor to step onto the battlefield with them. You will be able to tell your kids and grandkids about the day you faced them. You will recall the mind-splitting neverending noise. You can point to the bruises you left with and tell tall tales about the play you almost made. There is no shame in being overwhelmed by the power of this city and this team. There is honor to be found in playing your part in the pages of history. Heavy is the head that wears the crown. You will feel just how heavy soon enough.

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