Seahawks, Don’t Do Us Any Favors

First Curt Warner, then Chuck Knox, and now, the Seahawks?

Is that how far we’ve fallen?

Southern California, dumping ground for every sporting institution Seattle no longer wants or can afford?

And if that’s the truth, when will Randy Johnson be making it down?

Would the first Sunday in April be convenient?

The Seahawks say they are leaving Seattle and planning to play home games here next season, which begs another question, or three.

Were we consulted on the matter?

Do we really want a team the Raiders used to regard as a twice-yearly punching bag, a team duller than the Rams, a team that has never been to a Super Bowl, has not been to the playoffs since 1988, has not finished a season over .500 since 1990 and, over the last two years, has put more players in police lineups than the Pro Bowl?

Didn’t the Rams teach us all that bad professional football is not necessarily better than no professional football?

“We’re gone. We’re out of here. We’re moving to Anaheim,” an unidentified team source told the Seattle Times Thursday. Interesting. Pretty smart, too. You can’t go around using language like that in a family newspaper, not on the record and for attribution, lest you risk the wrath of Anaheim and its neighboring cities.

Actually, the Seahawks’ game plan--and, yes, they insist they have one this time--is to play the next two seasons at the Rose Bowl while someone--Aladdin, perhaps--builds them a brand new stadium in Anaheim, where Seahawk football will roost from 1998 on.

Or until the 30-year lease is circumvented in less than half the time.

So: Two years in Pasadena, then on to Orange County--that is the blueprint.

At least that would give Orange County time to warm up to the idea.

And, to develop a thoughtful response to the daunting question vexing every resident of Anaheim this morning:

Is this town big enough for the Piranhas and the Seahawks?

The Seahawks are 20-year veterans of arena football, having played most of their home games since their 1976 inception inside a very large arena known as the Kingdome.

I say most because the Kingdome is where shrill the-sky-is-falling predictions actually come true. In 1994, acoustic tiles began dropping from the Kingdome ceiling, crashing down on the artificial grass at speeds slightly slower than an Apollo reentry, and the building was declared a safety risk. The Mariners were forced to play a “home” series at Anaheim and the Seahawks had to move several games outdoors, to nearby Husky Stadium.

Since then, the tiles have been reattached, and Kingdome officials swear something stronger than Elmer’s was used this time, but the incident gave the Mariners and the Seahawks the opening they needed, and they have made the most of it.

The Mariners went first, timing the first playoff appearance in the history of the franchise with a demand that King County build them a baseball-only facility or they’re gone. A fund-raising initiative was voted down last October, but legislators who really enjoyed the five games with the Yankees promised to press onward anyway--and this week, it was announced that a firm had been chosen to design the Mariners’ new ballpark.

Seahawk owner Ken Behring watched as this played out, took notes and sprung this one on King County: The Kingdome isn’t earthquake-safe. No kidding. Three bicyclists pedal through the parking lot and huge ceiling tiles begin dropping like Rick Tuten punts.

Behring claims to have commissioned a study--words every city council loves to hear--that found it would cost $90 million to make the necessary seismic fortifications.

That’s $23 million more than it cost to build the Kingdome--and about $20 million less than the Anaheim Stadium renovation package Disney is presently angling for. And those renovations include demolishing and rebuilding about a third of the existing Anaheim Stadium, tearing out 20,000 seats, giving an austere gray block an “intimate” Camden Yards-kind of feel--a tad more ambitious, it would seem, than retrofitting a large concrete dome.

Behring isn’t really worried about earthquakes. Proof: He wants to move his team to Southern California. No, Behring only wants to put the squeeze on Seattle and get the hell out, by whatever means available.

This is lousy business, any way you choose to look at it. That’s the lasting lesson of the Los Angeles Ram and Raider experience: Hijacking someone else’s team is no way to fill your own empty Sundays. We cursed St. Louis for stealing the Rams, yet less than a year later, we have no qualms about lifting the Seahawks out of a car trunk in the dead of night?

Expansion is still the way to go. It is the honorable approach, nobody gets hurt in the end, and, best of all, nobody pawns their tattered hand-me-downs on us.

So send word up to Behring today: Thanks, but no thanks. Remind him about Southern California. Let him know it will take a lot more than $90 million to make the place earthquake-safe.

FO King County Councilman Peter Von Reichbauer prepares to speak about a possible Seahawk move.