THE ECHO

By Amelia Humphrey // Reporter

Super Bowl LX ended in a relatively low score of 29-13, with a touchdown not having been scored until late in the second half. The Seattle Seahawks won their second SB by conquering the New England Patriots’ Drake Maye-led offense with their suffocating defense, affectionately nicknamed the “Dark Side” and drawing comparisons to the “Legion of Boom” Seattle defense in the 2010s. The game saw punts galore and numerous appearances by Seahawks kicker Jason Myers as the Patriots rarely advanced past midfield.

“Defense wins championships,” goes the cliche. We Americans love to spit lines like this. “Good ole smash-mouth football.” Kind of like the American ideal of rugged individualism. We say we love oppressive performances by the big men, say we value defensive-minded coaches like Mike Macdonald of the Seahawks, say we take pride in defenses like the Legion of Boom, the Dawgs of the 1980s Cleveland Browns, and the Vikings’ Purple People Eaters in the 1960s and 70s, enough to give them iconic nicknames.

Hmm. Sounds like another aspect of American history. The Gilded Age. Specifically, the hypocrisy of it all.

Because when defense actually does win championships, we go and whine about it.

If there’s anything I’ve noticed in my sports fandom, it’s that the vast majority of sports fans are pretty darn shallow in their understanding of the game, particularly when it comes to the defense. When the quarterbacks light up the night with long bombs and aggressive trick plays, the crowds go insane. When receivers throw themselves into the air and snag passes with just their fingertips, America is raving for months. When the time comes for awards to be given, everyone throws themselves behind the QBs or the WRs. A game that ends with points in the 30s and 40s gets thrown liberally into the highlight reels. But a game in which the other 11 guys play their hearts out and rack up their own columns of stats is denounced or criticized as “boring.” Exhibit A: SB LX.

Don’t get me wrong. I love offensive superstars. My favorite players in the NFL include Josh Allen, Jonathan Taylor, and Puka Nacua. Like every other sports fan, I jumped out of my seat when Saquon Barkley backwards hurdled a dude last year and when Jaxon Smith-Njigba caught a football with one hand just a couple weeks ago. But I also love it when Maxx Crosby obliterates an offensive line single-handedly, and when TJ Watt shoots himself straight at the QB like a battering ram, and when Myles Garrett breaks the sack record with all of his bone-rattling tackles this year.

So as I sat in my living room, watching this year’s NFL championship game, I was entertained. Not by Sam Darnold and JSN, though I love them both. But by Byron Murphy II and Devon Witherspoon.

Can we all just stop and remember that there are 22 guys on a starting roster, not just 11? Can we all just acknowledge that players like Nick Emmanwori are also playmakers alongside players like Cooper Kupp? Can we all just be happy for these guys, who played their hearts out just to be ignored by every selfish and shallow football fan whose vision only spans the red zone? This was the best night of many of these defensive players’ lives, and all anyone has to say is that it was so boring.

“It’s not flashy,” they say. Oh, it’s plenty flashy. Just open your eyes a little wider. Maybe then you can see the other 11 guys who are just as integral to the game as the ones who pass and catch.

(On a side note, let’s also celebrate the kicker. Jason Myers scored 15 points on his five field goals in the Super Bowl, becoming the first player in NFL history to score 200 points in a season—that’s right, player. Out of any position. This man had the night of his life as well.)

Photo from SF.gov