Witnessing the Huskies’ and Silvertips’ improbable comebacks was a rare pleasure

A stereotype that exists about sportswriters goes something like this: We’re gruff, grumpy, cynical, and frequently focus on the negative at the expense of the positive.

While the stereotype isn’t completely accurate, there’s a valid reason for its existence: We tend to feel we’ve seen it all. After covering thousands of games, witnessing first-hand any number of exciting, unlikely and downright odd circumstances, there’s little left to create that sense of wonder that drew us to the profession in the first place.

I wouldn’t say I’ve reached this Oscar Madison state just yet, but after 15 years in the game, I understand. With all the things I’ve had the fortune of seeing during that time — including an unbelievable nine months following the Everett Silvertips during their inaugural season — I’ve become pretty difficult to impress. Even when something memorable does happen, while the fans scream in delight I’m too busy scribbling in my note pad to get excited. That’s just what sportswriters do.

Which is what made last weekend so rare — and so special.

Over the weekend I got to watch not just one, but two unlikely sporting events, the type that make even the grizzled old sportswriter part of me smile with child-like wonder.

Both involved comebacks, but those comebacks were very different in nature.

It began Saturday night. As the Silvertips beat writer my Saturdays in the fall are usually spent covering the Tips. But the Tips had a rare Saturday off, and it just happened to coincide with my parents, who are season-ticket holders for the University of Washington football team, having a pair of extra seats available. The tickets were offered to me, so my friend Matt and I accompanied my parents to the game against Arizona, my first UW game in person since covering the team’s home games for the Skagit Valley Herald in 2002.

By the time the fourth quarter was winding down, our decision became whether to leave early and try to beat the traffic or stay to the bitter end. The Dawgs trailed 33-21 with four minutes remaining, and many fans were streaming toward the exits. Although Washington scored a quick touchdown, the Wildcats had the ball and a five-point lead with less than three minutes to go. There was hope, but not much as Arizona had played the better game. All the Wildcats had to do was run out the clock.

One of the reasons the Wildcats were ahead was because they abused the wide receiver bubble screen all game, running it about a dozen times. But by the fourth quarter everyone in the stands recognized when it was coming by the formation. So when three Arizona receivers split wide to the right in a bunch formation on first down, the fans around me started pointing and yelling. If we could recognize it, surely the Huskies could, too.

And, of course, you know what happened next. The Dawgs read the play, breaking immediately into the passing lane. Arizona quarterback Nick Foles was forced to delay before releasing a low pass toward Delashaun Dean. Dean reached down and got a fingertip to the ball before it deflected off his foot and up into the air, where UW linebacker Mason Foster ran under it and returned it 37 yards for the game-winning touchdown.

I couldn’t believe it as, in a flashback to the days before sports became a job, I started jumping up and down like a fan. Matt, no fan of Arizona coach Mike Stoops, took glee in scolding Stoops for calling a passing play in that situation. And it made the hour-long bus ride home afterward bearable.

I thought I’d received my dose of sports improbability for the weekend, and it was a satisfying feeling. Little did I know what was ahead the next night.

Sunday night it was back to work, with the Tips hosting the Portland Winterhawks. Portland came into the game red hot, a streak that included a 4-3 win over the Tips just four days earlier.

Portland scored three minutes into the game on a terrible goal. The Winterhawks scored again, prompting a goaltending change. That didn’t work as Portland tallied again, taking a 3-0 lead after 13 minutes. It seemed over for Everett.

Yes, Tyler Maxwell scored with 3.3 seconds remaining in the period to give Everett a glimmer of hope. Nevertheless, I spent the first intermission formulating the Tips’ epitaph for my game story. As one-sided as the game was during the first period, I figured I didn’t have to worry about an Everett comeback.

And, of course, you know what happened next. Over the course of the next two hours I watched the Tips explode in a manner I’d never witnessed in my seven seasons covering the team. Everett proceeded to catch, pass, then pull away — “pull away” seems a gross understatement — from the Winterhawks, scoring nine consecutive goals.

About midway through the third period I found myself shaking my head in disbelief. There was no way this was happening, particularly after the Tips played that awful first period. The Tips ended up winning 10-4, and I ended up writing a meandering account of the game because I was still stunned. Despite it being an early Sunday start, thus providing ample time to write, I just couldn’t completely absorb and express what happened.

So 24 hours, two improbable comeback victories, and an opportunity for a veteran sportswriter to reflect on how wonderful sports can be sometimes.

I know I can’t expect weekends like this very often. I know I’ll probably start sinking back into that cynical realm soon enough. But I’m thankful sports can still provide moments that excite, inspire and provide joy.

Even for us sportswsriters.

Nick Patterson’s Silvertips blog: http://www.heraldnet.com/silvertipsblog