Is it wrong to want Seahawks revenge against the Patriots for a Super Bowl loss?
The Super Bowl scar in our house never healed.
It’s in the entryway near the front step, a wound inflicted by a doorknob on Feb. 1, 2015. The date lives in infamy in our household.
Our son, then a hormonal teenager, dealt the damage. We were all riveted to Super Bowl XLIX: Seahawks versus Patriots, a nail-biter, Seahawks down 28-24, on the goal line with 26 seconds left, a chance to score, to repeat as champions and beat Tom Brady. Second and goal. Plenty of time. The Seahawks had one timeout to burn. All they had to do was give Marshawn Lynch the ball and let him hammer it through.
Except Seattle didn’t. They got cute and tried a quick pass. The Patriots saw it coming. Interception. Game over.
The living room melted in profane eruptions. Our son stormed out, slamming the front door so hard that it punched a round hole in the drywall.
He walked up and down the street for so long that we started to worry. He returned eventually and camped in his room. We left him alone. We understood.
Thus, the scar was born. It has many names. Sometimes I call it the Marshawn Hole. Sometimes it’s the Run-the-Damn-Ball Hole.
Later, in classic lame-dad fashion, I tried to spackle it. My effort was laughable. A few years later, we painted the front entryway. The scar lingered like a giggling ghost.
Sometimes I forget it’s there. Then I accidentally open the front door a little too hard, barely stop it from gashing the fragile spot, and I remember.
Let me explain something about sports fan revenge. It’s not like personal revenge, or the dreams we might have of besting a bully or a rival.
Sports fanhood revenge is different. It’s personal, yet it isn’t. In a way, my craving for revenge makes no sense.
No holdover players from the Patriots or Seahawks remain on either roster. Brady is gone. Bill Belichick, the genius coach, is gone. Malcolm Butler, the Patriots cornerback who intercepted the ill-fated pass that doomed the Seahawks, is gone.
Mike Vrabel, the Patriot linebacker-turned charismatic coach of the 2025 team, doesn’t qualify, either. He retired long before the ill-fated Super Bowl. The same goes for the 2014 Seahawks: Lynch, Russell Wilson, Richard Sherman, etc. — all the players from that team have retired or moved on.
What’s more, I didn’t and don’t KNOW any of those people, on either team. Not then, not now. So why should I care?
Yes, I wanted the Seahawks to beat Brady and Belichick – but I didn’t hate them. They were great. They won fair and square.
So what is it? What would fill this empty, silly space in my soul?
Maybe I want it for my son, now an adult, grown-up enough to view sports philosophically. He tries not to get emotionally involved in the Seahawks these days. It’s the right attitude – but when this new group beat the Rams to make it to the big game again, he texted me with big-eye tear emojis.
Do I want revenge? Damn right. Is it petty? Yes. Would it be as sweet as it should be? No. Do I care? Screw it. Give it to me.
Maybe if I get it, I’ll bear down, fix the old wall scar the right way, and congratulate myself for doing something useful.
This story was originally published February 4, 2026 at 5:00 AM with the headline "Is it wrong to want Seahawks revenge against the Patriots for a Super Bowl loss?."
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