Sifting through Super connections
After Sunday’s Super Bowl debacle, fans of the Seattle Seahawks might want to offer some suggestions, or some consolation, to their fallen heroes.
That might be easier than it sounds, if you believe in the theory known as “6 degrees of separation.”
Everyone in the world is no more than six acquaintances away from knowing anyone else, according to the theory, endorsed by mathematicians and psychologists.
Psychologists tested the theory more than 40 years ago by instructing students in Omaha, Neb., to relay a letter to a stranger in Boston by first sending it to a friend. The friend then relayed the letter to a third person and so on.
In most cases, it took six people to complete the chain.
The theory applied to Dan Schmedding during Sunday’s big game. Watching Seattle’s title hopes unravel on a massive high-definition TV in the basement of his parent’s home, 23-year-old Schmedding sat three seats down from his best hope to contact a Seahawks football star: Brother Jeff Schmedding, 28, coaches linebackers at Eastern Washington University, and one of the athletes on Eastern’s football team is Isaiah Trufant, younger brother to Seahawks cornerback Marcus Trufant.
Of course, the older Schmedding is a rabid Pittsburgh Steelers fan and might not be a good name to drop after Seattle’s 21-10 loss in the only Super Bowl game of its 30-year franchise.
But Jeff wasn’t Dan’s only conduit for a tear-stained letter or a “we’re proud of you” e-mail.
“You know, I played (high school) football with Don Turner, who transferred to Washington State when Marcus Trufant was still there, ” Dan Schmedding said.
The Sunday matchup was one the Schmedding brothers had dreamed of since they were kids, one played out many times between the two boys through video games in which Jeff always took the black and gold, Dan the Seahawks’ green and teal.
In a hot, crowded room of 19 Seahawks fans, Jeff Schmedding hefted his Steelers stein in celebration, alone.
Jeff might have felt as if he were within a couple people of knowing a Seahawk, but everyone else in the room stared at the TV as if they didn’t recognize these Seahawks and didn’t especially want to.
The undoing of the most potent offense in the National Football League had to be even more surprising to Mark Doolittle, a Spokane resident who used a handful of shirttail connections for Super Bowl tickets and hit pay dirt just a week before the game.
A lifetime season ticket holder to Seahawks football, Doolittle found himself without Super Bowl tickets after Seattle defeated the Carolina Panthers on Jan. 22 for a shot at the title.
Only a limited number of Super Bowl tickets were available for season ticket holders, who were told to enter a lottery if they wanted to go.
The rejection notice reached Doolittle’s e-mail so fast it almost beat him home from Seattle.
“I was really mad when we got home and didn’t get tickets. I guess 30 years of loyalty didn’t count for much,” he said.
But then Doolittle started working the angles, calling on co-workers at Red Bull, the energy drink company where he works.
As it turned out, there were people in the beverage company’s flow chart who had access to tickets.
Doolittle scored two as the game approached and booked a Friday flight to Detroit, where he rendezvoused with his brother Todd from Dallas.
The tickets came so late he had no chance of getting a hotel in Super Bowl-crazed Detroit and ended up spending Friday night at the Detroit airport.
Apparently, what Doolittle really needed was a friend of a friend of a friend of Motel 6’s Tom Bodett.