Opinion | Shout it loud: The Seattle Seahawks rule after Super Bowl victory

Less than an hour's drive south of Seattle, Washington, is a small school called Pacific Lutheran University. On that campus you can find the studios of KPLU, a National Public Radio (NPR) station that also has a 24-hour jazz feed.

Almost since the inception of the internet that station has been streaming its melodic and informative vibes across the Pacific, where it has become the daily background sound of my life. My personal debt to KPLU is enormous and a large reason why I found myself pulling for the Seattle Seahawks against the Denver Broncos in the Super Bowl in a game where I otherwise had no rooting allegiance.

There is something quite compelling and endearing about NPR news people and jazz DJs talking Super Bowl smack. "That was Killer Joe by Kenny Burrell and it goes out to all our friends in Denver who will soon find out about the Seahawks' killer defence. Rolling forward, Stan Getz takes us to a Warm Valley."

Nary a hint of malice and all of it delivered in dulcet, measured tones, it's benign smack talk and for me it has come to embody the level of civilised discourse prevalent in the Seattle area. Seattle has never struck me as an aggressive, in-your-face place. The last time I visited was a couple of Januarys ago and in the Pacific Northwest January has all the charm of an English winter: damp and damper. February's not much better.

It's hard to talk smack when you spend most of your time under an umbrella and the sporting smack also seemed largely muted because Seattle's teams have traditionally been insignificant on the national stage. Baseball's Mariners have never been good for any extended spell and while the Supersonics did have an exciting run in the '90s and even won an NBA title in 1979, the league was shamelessly complicit in allowing the team to move to Oklahoma City in 2008.

Which brings us to the local American football team. The Seahawks were founded in 1976 and debuted with uniforms featuring a docile royal blue and forest green osprey's head based on Northwestern tribal art. For their first 24 years they played in the joyless confines of the Kingdome, an indoor stadium once described by a city official as "a concrete carbuncle on the backside of Seattle" and whose most memorable moment came the day it was imploded in 2000. It was a public execution greeted with great enthusiasm and it seemed like something changed that day in the psyche of Seattle football fans. They were liberated now and eager to embrace the elements of an outdoor stadium. Cold and wet? It's called football weather and not only can we handle it, we will own it as well. The new stadium was a sprawling edifice featuring panoramic views of the city skyline framed by iconic Mt Rainier in the distance. It became a jewel in the crown for the capital of the Pacific Northwest and seemed to liberate and inspire not only the team but the fans that filled it as well.