You see them on the street. They live among us.
You think they’re just like us Seahawks fans: The 12th Man team, putting up banners, dreaming of the Super Bowl.
Says Tyler Christensen, avowed nonfan, “If they had a documentary on the Kardashians on Netflix, I’d rather watch that than football.”
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He’s 23, lives on Capitol Hill and works at a Starbucks on First Hill.
Christensen doesn’t mind watching baseball, but football?
“It just goes back and forth. I don’t find it interesting,” he says.
On Sunday, he and his significant other will skip the game and may just have dinner, watch a streaming movie and “probably recreational marijuana usage.”
But it’s not only your stereotypical Capitol Hillie who disdains football.
From a mom of twins to a high-school librarian, these nonfans don’t get football, don’t care about football, and would rather be hiking or doing some shopping, having the stores to themselves.
The nonfans can be vociferous about their nonfanness.
“I have lived in Seattle my whole life, and I usually ignore anything to do with professional sports, but this Hawksmania is getting somewhat annoying,” says Daniel Dudley, 23, a first-year University of Washington medical student.
“The assumption that any given person in this city cares about organized sports is erroneous, and the Seahawks decorations everywhere are overdone and tacky.”
Dudley likes tennis, and swimming, and running. He gets exercise every day by bicycling from a house he rents with some other students to campus.
“It just doesn’t appeal to me to watch people running around hurting each other,” says Dudley.
The millionaire salaries of the players also bother him.
“I have a school science teacher friend of mine. He makes $35,000 a year,” says Dudley.
It bugs him that at a recent family-medicine conference for medical students, “Half of the students left in the middle of the conference to go watch the Seahawks. I thought that was a little over the top.”
This Sunday afternoon, Dudley plans to be studying for a test, and he might go to the campus intramural building for exercise.
“It shouldn’t be too crowded,” he says.
Not even if it’s free
Kim Hanson, 55, of Tukwila, a project safety manager at Boeing, says her boss offered her free Seahawks tickets.
No thanks, she said.
“He was pretty surprised,” says Hanson.
She says, “Sports are boring and expensive. I’m kinda proud I don’t waste my time on sports.”
Volkert Volkersz, 63, of Arlington, is a high-school librarian and an acoustic guitar player “by avocation.” For 35 years he was married to a rabid Seahawks and Huskies fan, he says, while he’d rather have been hiking, writing songs, reading a book.
Volkersz says that although he briefly played soccer and rugby in high school, organized sports just never interested him.
“I did learn the rules of the game” as he watched them on TV with his wife — now former wife — but often Volkersz would pull out his laptop and at least surf the Internet while a game was on.
The last Seahawks game he watched was the team’s 2006 Super Bowl appearance, he says.
“Three weeks later she told me to move out, and I did, leaving not only the Seahawks, but all of television, behind,” says Volkersz.
Football had little to do with the marriage breakup, but it’s nice that these days he’s married to a woman who is not a rabid sports fan.
This Sunday, while most of this state is glued to the TV, Volkersz plans to be snowshoeing. Happily so.
Here is April Doiron, 38, of Tukwila, stay-at-home mom of 5-year-old twins.
“I can’t stand football. Just having it in my house bugs me,” says Doiron, who has made her nonfanness clear to the family. “I’m really hoping my brother hosts a viewing party and I can send my hubby there to join in the fun.”
If that’s not possible, and computer programmer Mark Wahlstrom stays home, she might take the twins to visit a girlfriend who equally doesn’t like football, “sip wine and let the kids play while we hang out.”
What is it about football that she doesn’t like?
“It’s the noise from that crowd,” she says.
With the 12th Man noise, it’s just too much.
She wonders about the TV broadcast, “Couldn’t they turn down the noise?”
Well, April, the noise is the point.
Her brothers love football, says Doiron, and “my brother-in-law used to get on me to learn to like sports” so she could be part of the family fun.
Not happening, she says.
“My eyes glaze over”
And, yes, there are a few other organized events scheduled for Sunday afternoon, such as guided snowshoeing walks at Mount Rainier National Park.
Or maybe a Seattle Folklore Society-sponsored family dance at the Phinney Neighborhood Center.
“There‘s not necessarily as much overlap between the folk dance community and the Seahawks,” explains a society spokeswoman.
The nonfan stories go on.
Matthew Bebbington, 29, a bank financial analyst, went to one Seahawks game, “And I saw a grown man tell a 12-year-old to —- off.”
He’s going to the movies Sunday afternoon.
Then there is Natalie Hughes, 27, who works tech operations for a company in Seattle.
The office in which she works is basically a shrine to the team, “Seahawks stuff all over.”
She likes baseball, but football, “A play lasts 10 seconds. Then everything stops, and then there is a commercial, on and on.”
When she hears the football talk that permeates local conversation now, “My eyes glaze over and start staring into the distance.”
Hughes plans to do grocery shopping Sunday afternoon, figuring she’ll have the store to herself.
Although it’s not as if she shuns football parties at somebody else’s place.
“I do like the seven-layer nachos dip, and pigs in a blanket. That’s fun,” she says.
So remember the rallying cry of the proud Seahawks nonfan when once again the game is brought up.
Times staff researcher Gene Balk contributed to this report.
Erik Lacitis: 206-464-2237 or firstname.lastname@example.org Twitter @ErikLacitis