SANTA CLARA, Calif. — This was not redemption. Some of these Seattle Seahawks were Pop Warner-aged players 11 years ago, little football hatchlings who couldn’t fathom the agony this franchise suffered at the goal line of Super Bowl 49.
You can’t redeem a broken heart anyway. You repair it and heal. You learn to live smarter, healthier. Better. So what happened Sunday night in Super Bowl 60 was not about fixing the past. Instead, the Seahawks announced the future — their future — one in which they could reign for a while.
With their 29-13 thwacking of the New England Patriots, they didn’t close an old wound so much as they proved the scar no longer matters. This wasn’t the rewrite of a horror story that began more than a decade ago. It was the first page of a thrilling new script.
Consider it poetic icing that this new story began against the opponent that once flattened the dynastic arc of Russell Wilson, Marshawn Lynch and the Legion of Boom. Seattle didn’t defeat history. It augmented it, powered by a young coach too ingenious, a roster too young and a vibe too unburdened to schlep old pain into the present.
Redemption looks backward. This team only looks ahead. And, whew, what sights they can see.
During a season in which the Kansas City Chiefs’ dominance stalled, it seemed the NFL had no king. It seemed there was no great team. It seemed that half the playoff field had an opportunity to win it all. But Seattle was a superior squad hiding in plain sight.
Over 20 games, the Seahawks finished 17-3. They outscored opponents by 246 points, an average margin of victory of 12.3 points per game. Over three postseason games, the running score was 101-46 despite facing competition that had a combined 44-16 record.
Seattle won its final 10 games, and six were by double digits. In the end, it became clear that only the Los Angeles Rams were a worthy challenger, and the Seahawks took their best offensive punch twice without staggering.
“It’s just a complete team,” safety Julian Love said. “We’ve won every game this year in different ways. It didn’t feel like work a single day this year. I don’t want this to end. We love each other.”
A special season may have ended. A new championship era has just begun. The Seahawks were the third-youngest team in the NFL this season. Mike Macdonald, 38, is the third-youngest coach to smooch the Lombardi Trophy. When Seattle won its first Super Bowl 12 years ago, it was among the youngest squads ever to play on that stage. A year later, the core players returned to the big game and were poised to repeat until Wilson’s catastrophic interception stirred a controversy that fractured a group built with high emotions and big personalities.
It’s a loss that no one wants to speak about in Seattle, but everyone still feels. Those Seahawks never had a chance to make it right. In truth, there is no such thing as making it right. Every season is its own struggle in the NFL. After that setback, the Seahawks lost their edge to stay ahead of a league designed to keep pulling teams toward the middle.
For the past 11 years, the ghosts have visited at odd times. There’s the memory of Richard Sherman standing in front of Earl Thomas in the locker room, shielding a crying teammate while fielding questions about what went wrong. There’s Pete Carroll holding the hand of his sobbing grandson as television cameras invaded his personal space. There’s Lynch laughing because it was the only emotion that could conceal his anger and disbelief.
Sunday night provided a much different scene. Confetti drifted through Levi’s Stadium, and when that part of the celebration was done, cigar smoke filled the air. This wasn’t a group exhaling to let go of old pain. These new players were inhaling possibilities.
The final victory cigars of the season are out for the Seahawks. Champagne to come. pic.twitter.com/hB4xv8CdNO
— Dianna Russini (@DMRussini) February 9, 2026
“Man, we’ve all been rejected,” middle linebacker Ernest Jones IV said. “We’ve all been disrespected. And when it’s all said and done, that was just a bunch of bad boys.”
The game felt like a slow suffocation. With their vaunted defense, the Seahawks grabbed the Patriots and squeezed them into submission. Through three quarters, New England had zero points and 78 yards, averaging just 2 yards per play. The Seattle defense, which nicknamed itself the Dark Side, lived in quarterback Drake Maye’s face, sacking him six times and harassing him into three turnovers. If the score had been closer, the Seahawks probably would have posted a shutout. But after Seattle took a 19-0 lead, the final 13 1/2 minutes became garbage time. The defense loosened up. And even then, the turnovers kept coming.
Jones knows the comparisons will come. How good was this defense? Was it 1985 Chicago Bears good? Legion of Boom good? He shrugged and circumvented any debate.
“That’s for y’all,” he said. “I will say this: My defense, I’ll match us up against anybody. Whatever great offense you put up there, I like our odds.”
Love admitted that he sensed the Patriots were outmatched early in the game.
“Honestly, mid-first quarter,” he said.
Do explain, sir.
“It was a style thing,” he said. “They were getting excited for a 4- or 5-yard run. Then we’d create a negative play on the next play.”
For all the talent on Seattle’s defense, a single superstar didn’t dominate the game. Everywhere the Patriots went, the Seahawks swallowed them.
They won with their brawn and their brains. They won with speed and precision. Macdonald’s defense, the trendiest in the sport, flummoxed Maye with a rotation of disguises and pressure looks. One slight hesitation, and a big man was in the quarterback’s grill. It was hard enough for the offensive line to stay in front of defensive end Derick Hall and tackle Byron Murphy II. But then cornerback Devon Witherspoon disrupted as much in the pass rush as he did defending passes. The Seattle offense wasn’t as sharp as usual, but it didn’t matter that quarterback Sam Darnold struggled. Kenneth Walker III, the game’s MVP, rushed for 135 yards and carried the unit until Darnold started capitalizing in the red zone.
The Legion of Boom era burned hot. It was an unforgettable time but a difficult team to sustain, especially after the crisis. These Seahawks are colder and steadier. With their discipline, they may prove to be scarier. They celebrate now, but you get the sense they expect to be back.
In the NFL, greatness can end faster than anyone can imagine. The Seahawks know this too well. Yet they have all the traits of a winner that can endure. Darnold, still just 28, is back from the abyss and ascending. The defense is stocked with youth and players in the middle of their primes. Macdonald is transforming from a robotic defensive mastermind to a full-fledged head coach with the vision and emotional intelligence to lead a team through heightened expectations.
For certain, this wasn’t redemption. That would suggest the Seahawks were chasing something they lost. These Seahawks have discovered something new.
The Seahawks are now the 17th franchise to win multiple championships. Eleven years ago, that seemed a given. Now, it’s a blessing that an entire city knows to cherish.
In 2015, Seattle walked off a Super Bowl field in Arizona carrying a question that wouldn’t stop echoing. What happened? What happened? WHAT HAPPENED?!?!
On Sunday night, they walked off carrying a warning. The Dark Side has arrived. The rest of the NFL ought to prepare to function without light.