The wind howled, whipping flags and trees and wrappers and leaves and even bodies in need of some extra holiday weight in the months upcoming. Didn’t matter. Rain threatened to soak Seattle and, by extension, Husky Stadium, where a dormant college football power has awakened to find a landscape unlike anything from its early 1990s zenith. Didn’t matter. “Experts” could rank the Huskies No. 5 nationally, unbeaten (10–0, 7–0 Pac-12) but not, if it started today, in the College Football Playoff. Didn’t matter. Skeptics could doubt whether quarterback Michael Penix Jr., a leading candidate to win the Heisman Trophy, could lead UW to a national title. Didn’t matter. The Huskies conference home, rival schools and travel budgets will all change next season, when UW moves to the Big Ten. Didn’t matter.
Nothing did. Not one thing, not even a little bit. The enthusiasm of 70,976 (mostly) purple-clad enthusiasts who trekked here—despite foul weather, bone-chilling cold, incessant “disrespect”—could not be dimmed. It felt like 1991 all over again, from the streets packed with cars to the parade of purple to no empty seats to in-game music selection. Yes, on Saturday, as Washington ground out a 35–28 win over Utah, even the students from Generation Z went full grunge, strengthening the theme.
All that and, of course, this remarkable season, more than anything. This UW football season is context (from before) and history (at stake). It’s the infusion of new blood and the transformation of a power decades in the making. All have combined to trigger the best kinds of memories for locals of a certain age range, from a time where college football in Seattle mattered more than year-round.
Sure, on Saturday large branches lay everywhere, dotting roads and driveways and sidewalks, each ripped off by the wind, which bent trees sideways, as if they wanted to lean into something. Parking lots became fight clubs with available space so prized that lots in close proximity to the stadium could have charged 50 times the normal price.
But this marked a fall Saturday in Seattle, with major college football on tap, beautiful red-orange-yellow leaves on trees and the currently most dominant local sports team suddenly worth leaning into (tree-in-wind style), as the mighty bandwagon that once held a city’s worth of fans under its spell continued to fill back up. So they came, the Dawgs. Of course they did. Imagine how many years have passed since they had kind of choice.
Anyone who opened their eyes after closing them half expected to see Kurt Cobain outside the stadium, smashing a guitar. The vibe was that magical, that dated—and that distinct. Washington, ranked fifth and bunched close with those above them, would host Utah, ranked No. 18. Both helped the Pac-12 form its strongest football slate in years, with Oregon, Oregon State and USC all ranked high at various points this season and with all five of those teams formidable.
None of those five programs entered Saturday ranked high as UW, which survived Oregon in a thriller on Oct. 14, waved goodbye to its high-powered offense for a win over Arizona State, out-scored Stanford in a victory where its defense failed and then turned the offensive jets back on against USC. That stretch pointed toward the same conclusion: that, while the Huskies hadn’t lost before Saturday and appeared capable of challenging for a coveted playoff spot, they also haven’t exactly steamrolled every team in front of them.
And this team, the one in front of them Saturday, presented a riddle that elevated anxiety across the Puget Sound. Utah was the underdog, but these Utes can play. They blew out Arizona State and featured a strength—a thudding, tackling, devouring defense—that seemed perfectly tailored to counter UW’s typical eruption tallies (points, touchdowns, defenders unable to do anything but shake their heads).
Consider their clash, then, the most important college football game held here in at least seven seasons. At least. There were two jet flyovers, in honor of Veteran’s Day. Scalpers, freezing and profiting simultaneously. Boats, docked off shore without a stadium view, there for the vibe, for the roars alone. This isn’t just any season, either; it’s the final season for the Conference of Champions, at least in its current, 12-team form. Which only added to everything else.
The Huskies needed only one thing Saturday. It wasn’t Nirvana. It wasn’t ticket revenue. It wasn’t even the vibes that recalled the program’s best-ever teams. No, what Washington needed, more than anything, was to win.
