1.) It's been over a year since I've made any sort of regular contribution.  (I was going to say 'productive' contribution, but there's a limit to which I can lie and remain credible.)

2.) I've never technically written anything entirely Seahawks-related.  (That's not entirely true, but closer to the truth than point #1.)

In any event, the imaginary reader mail has inspired me to return to the blank screen of writer's block and hammer out my irrelevancies despite the fact that .NET now has Ryan Davis around to be both funnier and more intelligent than I am.  Why do I do these things, they ask?  Because I have no sense whatsoever, I say, indicating that some things in life are stable.

Trav Finally Gets His Act Together Reader Mail Q&A:

Q: Trav!  What the hell?  I mean, really, what the hell?

A:  I actually do have valid excuses for my absence:  New career.  New city.  New Leggy Texan Woman.  New Cat.  The past year has been a maelstrom of chaotic change and I've found myself swept along in my standard oblivious fashion.  However, I am honest to a glaring fault, so I have to admit that I could have easily overcome all of that and made regular contributions, but I was simply being lazy and apathetic.

Q: But you're still a Seahawk Diehard, right?

A: Since Zorn to Largent, baby.  And to lend weight to my claim, I've never actually lived anywhere NEAR Seattle, so those years of support have been handicapped by years of explaining to everyone just why I am, was, and will be a Hawk fan.  (I lost a bet when I was a kid.)  (Kidding.)

Q: So!  How are things on the Ferret-Related News Front?!

A: Now that we're being honest with one another, here.  I really only carried the ferret humor along for years because it came to be expected of me based on a VERY small handful of columns.  Just between you and I:  I don't give a rat's ass about ferrets.  However, the antics of rodentlike creatures DO entertain me, so don't be surprised if, one day, I happen to mention a News Item in which a ferret is smuggled upon a plane in some person's undergarments.

Q: So, Trav.  Still not actually writing about anything football-related, huh?

A: I've always considered my freelance career as one long extended attempt to get around to actually addressing whatever it was I was supposed to be writing about.

Q: And...?

A: Don't rub it in.

What saddens me, though, is that I haven't heard from Reader Dave.  For those new readers (And considering that I quit being a regular contributor around the time of the Hawk Super Bowl, that's probably the majority of you), Reader Dave was our Foreign Correspondent .  Reader Dave was always kind enough to contribute to our ongoing quest to find the most stupid sport -- Luckily, most of them were in England. 

As an aside, I recently watched an episode of Mountain Bike Bog Snorkeling on one of the ESPN channels.  It is my sincere hope that some of you remember that you read it here, first.

State of the Seahawks

I'll admit to a certain bit of jaded apathy at this point in the season.  Before the games started counting, I was even more optimistic than usual... I thought this year could be another championship run.  And then, quickly, things started swirling down the toilet.  As erratic as things have been to date, I breathed a sigh of relief when we ended up besting the rather pitiful Rams.

The entire Shaun Alexander debate still has me going back in time to the column for which I received the most hate mail.  At the time, I knew I'd get hate mail for it... and the hate mailing populace happily obliged.  At present, however, I would like to go back in time and... well, basically, rub it in your faces:

"Before the draft, I thought it was an unrealistic stretch that we would have the opportunity to draft Steven Jackson. I remember watching with seething hatred while he ran roughshod over my beloved UNM Lobos. Here was a running back able to drive the pile for the first down, willing to lay a punishing block into a blitzing defender, and able to make sure-handed consistent grabs out of the backfield. In short, he was an Ideal Fit for Mike Holmgren’s West Coast Offense."

Yes, I had the audacity to promote drafting Steven Jackson instead of Marcus Tubbs.  If I were to say the same today, no doubt I'd hear about the benefits of hindsight, but... Well, no but, I'm just flagrantly rubbing it in people's faces at this point, so there IS no real 'but'.

I can't go so far as to say, "I was right, neener", and I'm not saying that I dislike Tubbs, but it does make for an interesting intellectual exercise in terms of how those interim years might have gone with an Alexander trade and a Jackson draft.  And let's be fair:  I thought that using the transition tag on Hutch was a Good Idea.

Meanwhile -- All is not lost.  We did drop a couple of winnable games, and sure, there was some embarrassment involved.  But just like that time when you wandered naked across the living room without realizing that the blinds were open, there can be redemption.  Sure, people have seen your unmentionables, but if you get that big promotion, anyway, you can ignore their mocking comments at the office water cooler.  Sure, you'll cry to yourself and insist that the hot water in your shower ran out that day, but will they ever listen?  No!  The bastards.

Uh... Anyway, my central point would be that we're still in good shape.  4-3, and leading the division is really not a bad place to be no matter how you got there.  To be fair, it hasn't been all ugly, the getting there.  Seattle is still riding high in the 'Points Against' category, so despite the hiccoughs, the defense is doing what a good defense needs to be doing. 

Now if we can only expand our running game beyond the 'Scuttle a yard, sit down, collect 200,000 dollars.' theme.

Other Extremely Important News

I think that this is the beginning of an -excellent- horror movie.

The idea is to recruit earthworms to eat the toxic waste-tainted earth, assuming that they'll reliably poop out non-toxic variants of the dirt.  Personally, I envision Jessica Biel crawling into bed in her underthings as  the Giant Mutant Death Worm slithers through the window.  To be fair, I don't care what crawls through the window, so long as Jessica Biel is in her underthings.  Hell, I'm willing to crawl through the damn window.

INNSBRUCK, AUSTRIA - MARCH 10: Race car driver Christina Surer rides her wok-pan during the fourth Wok Worldcup on February 10, 2006 in Innsbruck, Austria. The qualifying, which is a jump with a wok over a 18 meter ramp in a pool, is followed by a race in the bobsleigh run in Innsbruck. (Photo by Jan Pitman/Getty Images)

Really Idiotic Sports

The Germans have made their bid for one-upping the English by bringing about... Wok Racing!  And yes, it basically is what it sounds like.  Persons sit upon a wok and slide them down a bobsled track in an attempt to kill themselves.  No, wait -- In an attempt to beat out other similarly deranged individuals in being the first to kill themselves.  Well, no matter what the purpose of this activity, we should all agree that it MUST be televised.  Without even being quite sure what it involves, I find myself drawn to the 'Four-person Wok' competition.

I've browsed the official Wok Racing site a good deal, though I still cannot figure out what the relevance of having 'Backstreet Boys' as a featured link might happen to be.  Surrealists might care to peruse the site.

For those more interested in the DIRT of the matter, check out the wondrous play-by-play by these Wok-Racing Watchers!

Fire off all insights, inquiries, and wok-racing anecdotes to tflatt001@satx.rr.com

Trav Flatt