Football season is wrapping up with the grand finale this
Sunday, and Seattle is buzzing. Our very own Seahawks are heading to the Super
Bowl to face the New England Patriots on February 8 at Levi’s Stadium in Santa
Clara, California.
Super Bowl Sunday is basically a national holiday here. Over
100 million people tune in every year. It’s the second-largest food consumption
day after Thanksgiving. And Americans will wager more than $15 million on a
single game which is wild, considering I still can’t figure out why they stop
the clock every 12 seconds.
But I’ve learned this:
The Super Bowl is less about football and more about community
People gather with friends, wear their team jerseys, and
serve food that should come with a warning label. Even the commercials get
their own fan base. It’s a whole cultural moment.
Meanwhile, as an immigrant…
Football, real football is soccer. I have tried, truly
tried, to understand this American version but between the helmets, the
tackling, and the endless timeouts, I remain a respectful outsider.
Still, I admire the passion.
During my brief spell in Boston, Fridays at work looked like
a uniform inspection. Everyone even the people who normally avoided eye contact
suddenly became friendly. A simple “Go Pats!” could thaw the iciest coworker.
It was like watching community form in real time.
Then I moved to Seattle in 2015, and it was déjà vu. On
Sundays, the whole city was dressed in blue and green. Church services felt…
expedited. People were ready to sprint to their TVs. I kept seeing jerseys with
the number 12 and wondered if everyone had accidentally bought the same one.
Turns out the fans are the “12th player.” I think this is genuinely sweet.
My ongoing confusion (and reluctant fandom)
Over the years, coworkers have huddled during football season, passionately explaining plays I still don’t understand. The game feels rough, long, and slightly chaotic to me. I’ve never attended a Super Bowl party and now that I think about it, I’ve also never been invited to one. But that’s a different story!
Still, in the spirit of the place that has become home, I
own some Seahawks gear. I love the way this game brings people together, how
loyalty survives both heartbreak and victory, and how a city can move in unison
for something bigger than itself.
So even though I won’t be watching the game, I’ll be
cheering on and for the love of dear Washington state with all limbs crossed
hoping the Seahawks bring the trophy home.
A Sojourner’s Reflection
Moments like this remind me why I wrote my debut book Sojourning in America. I may not fully understand the
game, but I understand belonging. I understand watching a community rally
around something they love. I understand the beauty of being shaped by a place
even when you still feel like you’re learning its language.
And maybe that’s the real Super Bowl story for me not the
touchdowns, but the togetherness.
