I believe this is the first time I will write about the Seattle Seahawks this season. I've thought about it, but every time I think about the Seahawks, my wife comes to mind.

Tell me if you know another fan like this. She pouts, she screams, she yells and calls them unkind names when they make a mistake.

I tell her to take it easy, that the Seahawks will come back. She yells:

“Oh, shut up!”

Then she, smiles, laughs, cheers and shouts when they do something right. I say I told her so, and she says:

“Oh, shut up.”

Yes, on Sundays I'm a hen-pecked husband. I sit meekly and quietly in my recliner hoping the Hawks don't do something to bring the wrath of Pat down on all of us.

Now I know you think I'm kidding about all of this. But I'm not. If you saw Pat dress up for Seahawk day, you'd know.

After her own personal wear, she starts with Seahawk long stockings. Then come the Seahawk sweatpants. On top she has a Russell Wilson Jersey covered by a 12th man jersey.

That's not all. Next come her Seahawks earrings, a Seahawks colors scarf, a Seahawks nitted cap and a Seahawks Christmas hat.

She's a sight to see. Last time she took it all off, one of her daughters exclaimed: “Hey mom, you do have curves!”

Every Sunday, as soon as Pat sees the Seahawks' stadium, she starts dropping hints like:

“I wish we could go there.”

“I'd love to see that place.”

“I wish we could watch them live.”

I just sit meekly and quietly in my recliner. I know better than to say no. That will likely shorten my life.

I dare not say yes. The stadium experience might give her new ideas, and I can't stand spiked green hair.

So I'll just encourage Pat to run around the house after a touchdown while I sneak in a golf clap and a yea Russell.