John Blanchette: Seahawks know drama – win or lose, every time

SEATTLE — This was going to be Pete Carroll’s make-up gift to Marshawn Lynch.

The shame is he took too long fussing with the wrapping paper and the bow.

But this is what the Seattle Seahawks do, right?

They manufacture all this theater — farce, arias, pratfalls and always drama — to the point where it almost seems an afterthought whether they win or lose.

Well, maybe it wasn’t an afterthought in Super Bowl XLIX. The franchise will forever be schlepping around that baggage.

But on Sunday night all the Seahawks really lost was a division title and a home game in the playoffs – and maybe some lore that would have set the hook deeper into their smitten fan base.

Instead, the lore became punch line.

The Great Delay Dismay.

Now, there were other reasons and rationales behind the Seahawks’ 26-21 loss to San Francisco in the NFL’s regular season finale, with the NFC West championship on the line at CenturyLink Field. There were five Russell Wilson misfires in the last minute alone, and something that was probably pass interference that went uncalled. This doesn’t even account for a first half in which the Seahawks could barely get in the 49ers’ way, and certainly couldn’t get out of their own.

In fact, if not for some of Wilson’s usual second-half magic and heroics from mystery guests like Travis Homer and John Ursua – and yes, even a dash of beastliness from Lynch, whose return to Seattle after nearly a four-year absence and apparent retirement jump-started the week’s drama – the bizarre endgame never happens.

But it did, and the subject will serve as the swizzle stick for countless New Year’s Eve cocktails across the Northwest.

And maybe someone will even remember that the Seahawks were inches – Six? Three? Two? – from euphoria.

“It was a perfect way to win a championship,” said Carroll.

Except they didn’t. So, not perfect.

But perfectly Seahawks.

Let’s pick it up after the Seahawks – who had reached the end zone on all three of their second-half possessions to this point – found themselves fourth-and-10 from the Niners’ 12-yard line with 42 seconds to play. Wilson hadn’t been close on his previous three passes, but this time found Ursua – a rookie from Hawaii who hadn’t caught an NFL pass just short of the goal line for new life. With no timeouts remaining, Wilson spiked the ball on first down to stop the clock.

And on second down, Seattle was flagged for delay of game.

What? How? Why?

“We were in ‘no backs’ the play before and we called the personnel and we just didn’t quite get it communicated with the backs,” Carroll explained. “When you kill the clock, sometimes you kind of relax like that’s a timeout.

“That’s me all the way.”

College football fans, take heart. If you think your coaching staff is shaky on clock management, just remember the pros get it wrong almost as often.

It was Lynch who began trotting onto the field, then stopped to look back at the sideline for clarification, slowing the changeover. Had Carroll called his number? Was this the play that he should have dialed up on the goal line with XLIX on the line against the Patriots?

“You’ll never know,” Carroll said.

The 5-yard penalty took Lynch out of the picture. Instead, the focus shifted to tight end Jacob Hollister, who appeared to be held in the end zone on a third-down pass that went incomplete – at least enough for a formal video review. But from New York, NFL officiating vice president Al Riveron said there was “nothing which rises to the level of a foul based on visual evidence.”

So another fourth down – and, as on the previous one, the Seahawks ended up inches short, Hollister leveled by Dre Greenlaw and Fred Warner.

“I thought I did have it, honestly,” Hollister said.

The replay, however, showed it was wish more than reality.

But then, that was the whole week. Down to fourth-stringer Homer as their only healthy running back, the Seahawks dipped into their do-anything mode to resurrect Lynch – hoping he was still Beast Mode and not Beast Mold, and that the emotional charge might be the edge against what may be the NFC’s best team.

He managed a couple of spritely back-to-back runs of eight and 15 yards at one point, and gave the crowd their coveted glory rush with a leaping touchdown in the fourth quarter – no crotch grab, alas. But in the end his 12 carries produced just 34 yards.

“I haven’t done anything fresh off the couch,” he said. “Your boy just wanted to get some legs. It was a great opportunity for that.”

And his Seattle welcome?

“Straight love,” he said. “The 12s … made your boy feel right at home.”

Well, that’s what they do. Just as the Seahawks do what they do – win or lose, but always drama.