Broken hearts heal, but for two in my family, it will take a long time.
My husband and son’s names were not drawn in the Seattle Seahawks’ Super Bowl ticket lottery.
I wrote a month ago that my husband, Chuck, would whip out his MasterCard to make the trip to Detroit, but with tickets going for $3,000 and up online, it’s not an option.
As I said, we’ve had season tickets for 30 years. In early January, a huge box arrived on our porch. Inside was the most beautiful gift from the Hawks. Chuck received a matted, framed document stating that that he was an original supporter of the team.
My 12th man got tears in his eyes when he saw the certificate. He can’t see well after falling off a ladder in April, but he could read those big, important words, sent to 7,000 charter fans.
After hanging the picture in a place of honor, Chuck and our son, Brody, and his new wife, Lisa Lederer, attended two thrilling playoff games.
Over three decades, we talked about when the boys would go to the Super Bowl. It was never “if,” but “when.” We had a shot – along with more than 40,000 other season ticket holders – at winning the Super Bowl lottery.
The golden e-mails naming the winners and losers went out on Monday. Friends began receiving their computer messages at 10 a.m. Brody, who was born the year the Hawks first took the field, forwarded me a rejection message sent to a buddy.
Another acquaintance, with season tickets for 13 years, hit the jackpot. We were thrilled for him. But where was my e-mail? I must have checked it a thousand times on Monday. Brody called our account representative at the Hawks office and verified they had my correct address at work.
At 1 p.m., I also called the account rep to see if he could tell me whether we had made the cut. He said he didn’t have the list of winners, but not to worry. If we won, we would get a letter via FedEx on Tuesday that would explain how to buy tickets.
We had to wait another whole day. That was a killer. Win or lose, we just wanted to know. Sitting at home Monday night, we watched the news. At 6:15 p.m., we saw thrilled Seahawks fans at Qwest Field buying their Super Bowl tickets.
“Ten-yard line,” one guy screamed.
Wait a minute. We were told winners would get ticket-buying information in FedEx packages on Tuesday. Tickets already were being sold? Seats on the 10-yard line?
That, folks, was when the fabric hit the fan. The phone line burned between Chuck and his son’s Woodinville home. Not only could we not find out whether we were lottery winners, we couldn’t rush down to get the best seats.
We felt wronged. The anger was palpable. Somebody at headquarters had a list of the 4,500 lucky fans who could by $600 seats. On Tuesday morning, the Seahawks office was willing to share, and let Brody know we weren’t among them.
Chuck wouldn’t have to wait all day for a possible FedEx delivery.
Brody, 29, well remembers his days in nosebleed Section 312 of the Kingdome, from the time he was a toddler.
“As the son of a father who has been through the toughest year of his life, I dreamed of taking him to the Super Bowl,” Brody said. “Knowing that we had stuck by the Hawks for 30 years, we hoped they would stick by us and make sure the few remaining original season ticket holders were rewarded with the honor of joining our beloved team in Detroit.”
Brody said that Monday night, watching what might have been first-year season ticket holders storming the Qwest Field booth to cash in, was almost too much to bear. Online auctions swelled with new ticket sellers by Wednesday.
“What is even more gut-wrenching is that some of those same people are turning around and selling their tickets for huge profits, while true Seahawks fans are left on the sidelines,” Brody said.
Taking his dad to the Super Bowl wouldn’t have been Brody’s only financial gift. My sheet-metal journeyman was out of work for nine months during Brody’s senior year of high school.
Our busy son not only was student body president, on the football team and an active volunteer, he worked at Billy McHale’s at Alderwood mall. He used his savings to pay for senior pictures, prom, gas and his cap and gown. It sure took a load off a struggling family.
“For little boys out there dreaming of taking their fathers to the Super Bowl,” Brody said, “do me a favor and start saving. By the time you get your chance, you may have to forgo more than your college tuition to afford to walk with your dad into the biggest game of your lives.”
Sore losers? Yup. Broken hearts hurt.
Columnist Kristi O’Harran: 425-339-3451 or oharran@ heraldnet.com.
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