Sally Gracie TwispBy Sally Gracie

Twisp. Factoid for the Twisp historical record (gathered on Monday after Super Bowl XLVIII): Seahawks fans picked their party spot by the size of the host’s flat screen television. One fan, who has a 50-inch screen at home, told her brother-in-law who hosted the family party that he should buy a larger set.

When Sunday afternoon pre-game time arrived, I checked out the parties at Twisp River Pub and Twisp River Suites. Both have monster screens.

Maybe if I’d been with a group, I’d have stayed, but it wouldn’t have been for the food at either place. I left the pub when the score was 8 – 0 Seattle.

Why does a football buffet seem to rule out all food but carbs and fat? At Hank’s Harvest Foods on the Saturday before the game, Seth Thomson handed me a package of “Skittle Brats.” “You have to try these,” he said. “Skittles? In bratwurst? Are you kidding me?”

I apologize for my ignorance but not my taste, Seth. It was my son David who explained that Seahawks leading rusher Marshawn Lynch just “loves Skittles.” Hence, the Skittle brats, and the guy on Facebook who made his crazy outfit entirely from the colorful candies. At Hank’s I did buy a green-and-blue Seahawks bouquet because I love the little Kermit mums in it. Others chose the brats.

I call myself a hybrid fan, half Baltimore Ravens and half Seattle Seahawks (As a Baltimore Colts fan growing up, I knew that Johnny Unitas was “the best ever” and still hold that bias). The so-called 12th fan-dom has never taken hold of me since I moved here because the sports teams play on the other side of the mountains. There is not a chance in the world for me to go to an actual game, but when the regular season ends, if Baltimore or Seattle are involved, I will follow either team through the championship games and the Super Bowl. Last year I cheered the Ravens; this year, the Seahawks.

As a football know-nothing myself, I figured the national pundits must know what they were talking about as they tripped over their tongues to praise Peyton Manning as maybe “the best quarterback ever” and predicted that Broncos’ offense would beat Seahawks’ defense. Well, poor Peyton had a bad day, and the Seattle Seahawks finally found their place in the record books.

Seeking vegetables, I drove back to Hank’s on Sunday. The parking lot held five cars, including my own. The entire valley had shut down to watch the big game. The Seahawks were up, 22 – 0, when I reached home, so I had to “rewind” to see the two touchdowns I’d missed.

Fast-forwarding past the halftime entertainment, I slowed for most of the ads: “Doberhuahua” for Audi; a bear in a store for Chobani, and Bob Dylan — “who is that old guy?” I asked myself — for Chrysler. For Chrysler!

And, here, I admit that I didn’t know the name of the quarterback for Seattle before the game. The second half began and the commentators were still “Peyton Manning” this-ing, and “Peyton Manning” that-ing, so I began to keep a Manning vs. Wilson scoreboard. It wasn’t until the Seahawks hit 36 points that I began to hear Russell Wilson’s name mentioned at all. It was as if Seattle didn’t have a quarterback. Even so, the Seahawks won the game, 43-8!

Congratulations to all of you true fans of the Seattle Seahawks. I know you’re loving it.