This training camp, it feels as if more Seahawks than ever are practicing with tinted visors. Which is interesting, because in 1998 the NFL banned dark visors on game days.

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RENTON — Seahawks receiver Jermaine Kearse, a faithful believer in the dark magic of the dark visor, holds his helmet forward.

“Put it on,” he says. “It’s not what you think. It’s actually nice, ain’t it? It’s way easier. It’s like wearing sunglasses.”

He’s trying to prove a point — that a dark visor isn’t as prohibitive as it might seem, especially for a receiver whose job involves catching an oddly shaped ball flying across a traffic-jammed field.

This training camp, it feels as if more Seahawks than ever are practicing with tinted visors. Which is interesting, because in 1998 the NFL banned dark visors on game days.

So why are so many guys wearing them in practice? At first, Kearse doesn’t have an answer; he just likes it. But after generously offering the first-hand experience of wearing a sweaty post-practice helmet, he hits a groove thanks to the 1999 Adam Sandler movie, “Big Daddy.”

“You know what’s crazy?” he says. “You honestly feel like you’re in your own little zone. No one can really see your eyes. You just feel like you’re in your own little place. It’s weird. You ever seen the movie Big Daddy? You know when the kid puts the sunglasses on and he’s invincible? It’s kind of like that effect.”

The Pro Football Hall of Fame traces the history of the tinted visor back to Minnesota Vikings guard Randall McDaniel, who debuted in 1988. A decade later, running back Ricky Williams made the dark visor famous by wearing it during games and during his interviews afterward.

This training camp, Seahawks receiver Doug Baldwin said he and Kearse tried to spread the good word about dark visors to the entirety of Seattle’s receiving group, with mixed results.

“It’s not necessarily that it’s so cool,” Baldwin says. “Well, it is cool. But one of the things, when you put the dark visor on, it puts you in a calming state.”

For Baldwin, it is also a welcome distraction — or what he calls a “distraction drill.”

“It changes the environment,” he says. “Obviously, we won’t do it all the time. But when you’re able to change something like that, it makes you focus on the ball more. So now when I go back to my clear visor, there’s going to be that glare but it’s going to force me to focus on the ball more, which helps me overall.”

OK, that’s practical.

But not all Seahawks approach the dark visor with logic. Some are governed simply by aesthetics.

“I wish I had some cool story,” linebacker Bobby Wagner says. “I just wear it because it looks good. But during the game I want people to see my face. I want y’all to know who’s hitting you so hard.”

Another linebacker, Kevin Pierre-Louis, is both practical (it gets him in the right frame of mind) and appeasing a childhood desire (to look cool inside the darkness).

“It’s like asking someone why they put on war paint,” he says.

Yet come game day this season there might be only one Seahawk still wearing the dark visor: safety Kam Chancellor.

After the NFL banned tinted visors, only players who either a) have a medical exemption or b) pay a fine can wear them during games.

Chancellor falls into Category A because his eyes are sensitive to light; teammates think recently retired defensive end Chris Clemons fell into Category B; no one is quite sure which category applied to running back Marshawn Lynch.

“My eyes will water, they’ll ache and I’ll get headaches,” Chancellor says, but he rejects the premise that the visor boosts intimidation.

“Nah, intimidation is just what I do to you,” he says. “That ain’t intimidation to me.”

And yet when the now-defunct website Grantland wrote a story admiring Chancellor’s on-field thunder, the headline treated man and visor as inseparable: “Beware the Visor.”