On a Hunch: How I Learned to Follow the Game Beyond the Game

I wasn’t supposed to be at the game.

At least, that was the plan. I’d mapped out a sensible Saturday: watch the matchup between the 49ers and Seahawks from a sports bar, notebook nearby, camera tucked away, just another fan among many. But plans have a way of unraveling when instinct steps in.

I knew deep down in my gut that our beloved Seahawks would win. On a lark—truly—I wandered toward the ticket booth instead of the bar. There were only three tickets left. I bought two.

That’s how it started.

Saturday’s game wasn’t just about football; it was about proximity. Being close enough to feel the energy shift, to watch fans ride every play, to understand how belief travels through a crowd. It reminded me that sports, at their best, are communal storytelling—something I’ve spent my career chasing from a different angle.

The following Sunday, I was back in Seattle at Hull, a local bar that felt exactly right for the Raiders game. No flash, no pretense—just people, drinks, and shared anticipation. I met strangers who quickly felt like old friends, the kind of conversations that only happen when everyone is focused on the same thing.

One of them said something that stuck with me:

“Don’t spend your dollars on this game. Instead, book your hotel for the Super Bowl now while the prices are still low—because when they win, the rates will jump sky-high. Buy a hotel. Be there. Take your chances.”

Right there at the bar, I did just that.

It wasn’t advice so much as permission—to follow the thread rather than the script.

We both had a feeling the Seahawks would win. And they did.

Later that night, camera in hand, I found myself documenting the after-party energy unfolding across the city. I went live on Facebook for those watching from home—friends, readers, people who wanted to feel connected even if they weren’t there. It wasn’t polished. It wasn’t planned. It was real-time storytelling, the kind that lives between official narratives.

That moment crystallized something for me.

Sports aren’t just games. They’re movement. They’re commerce and culture colliding. They’re restaurants packed shoulder to shoulder, hotel lobbies buzzing at midnight, strangers exchanging predictions like currency. They’re the small decisions—where to sit, where to gather, when to take a risk—that shape much bigger stories.

As the founding editor and publisher of Seattle Means Business, I’ve spent the last year telling stories about community, hospitality, and the economic pulse of our region. The dream of attending the Super Bowl isn’t a departure from that work—it’s a continuation of it.

This journey didn’t begin with credentials or access. It began with a hunch, a last-minute ticket, and a belief that being present matters. That the stories worth telling often start when you stop trying to plan them.

Sometimes the best seat isn’t the one you planned to take.

Sometimes you find it by following the game beyond the game. Stay tuned for in-person coverage at this year’s Super Bowl!