On the Rampage: Rams–Seahawks, a Win Worth Aging Ten Years For
The Los Angeles Rams have played in some strange uniforms over the years, the St. Louis leftovers, the half-baked alternates, the infamous bone jerseys but nothing prepared me for the visual chaos unleashed on me this Sunday at SoFi Stadium. Before the first whistle, before the first snap, before Matthew Stafford even stretched his arm, the biggest storyline of the afternoon wasn’t tactics, play design, or the NFC West rivalry.
It was those black uniforms.
Let’s be clear because these things broke football. They broke reality. They scrambled every fan’s brain for a solid two minutes and nearly broke mine permanently. They were so visually disorienting that half the stadium inhaled sharply in unison, trying to figure out who was who. The blue shoulder patch looked like it had been kept from being under another jersey entirely. There was no continuity whatsoever. There was nothing that reflected the team’s color palette, history, or identity beyond that single patch.
Most of all, either commit 100% or don’t commit at all, but whoever is handling the uniform design clearly needs help. I think our weird shiny letterslook horrible and I am also not 100% into our designs today. But we do the throwbacks which should be the current ones every day. Regardless, I feel like they’ve done this before, committing to about 96% of the uniform, leaving 4% in the regular blue for some inexplicable reason. Like a designer thought it paired well with black. There may have even been a yellow horn, creating even more contrast and less cohesion. This isn’t the first time they’ve almost finished a uniform, but this instance made no sense. There’s no way it was just to show the Nike logo because you could have done that in black. It made no sense at all.
It was as if someone said, “What if we designed a uniform that actively makes watching the team harder and at the same time make it so it has nothing to do with our team and its colors since 1937 being a team?” And then they nailed it.
At one point, I genuinely rooted for the wrong team for half a play. We are blue and yellow fuck wads and let’s keep it that way. Thanks.
Decades of NFL viewing experience evaporated instantly. And for what? Rivalry game aesthetics? A blackout gimmick like they do at the University of Maryland? A Veterans Day misunderstanding? That’s what I thought at first, but then I realized it wasn’t camouflage. I would have taken the white uniforms—the ones that look like our normal white set. Instead, the Rams looked like the dark blue or green, or whatever that color was back in the St. Louis era that had been dug up from a vault, but with less continuity and far more confusion.
Never again. Not for any reason.
But once the eyes adjusted, the heart rate steadied, and the television stopped gaslighting the entire fanbase, the reality set in that this game was going to be a grind. A true, hard-fought, gut-churning NFC West trench war. And it absolutely was, however, I was not in the mood for it.
A First Half So Ugly It Qualified as Performance Art
The opening two quarters were the kind of football that make you reconsider life choices. The Rams produced one single yard of offense in the second quarter. That’s not a typo. One yard. I think we had the ball for 3 minutes and 49 seconds the entire quarter. A whole NFL franchise generating the equivalent of tripping over a yard marker. Besides, this team can fall and get 8 yards every play.
And yet, somehow, the Seahawks weren’t exactly lighting the world on fire either. What they were doing was slowly, painfully, methodically building the score 3 x 3 x 3 x 3 while at one point in the 3rd quarter maybe, the Rams sabotaged themselves with one very specific, incredibly avoidable problem, they couldn’t get the damn play off for fux sakes.
I’m talking five consecutive moments where flags flew like confetti. Motion penalty. Delay. Something else. Another delay when the ref threw a flag when there was no penalty which how used they got to throwing flags every play. Five in a row if you count the one picked up. This was Week 11 of an NFL season. Get the play off foir gods sakes. It is the A-B-C of football, what you learn in youth leagues before you even figure out how to get your pads on correctly.
Then came the third quarter. The moment when you could feel the pulse of the game shift. When the Rams’ defense tightened all the screws, Sam Darnold’s internal wiring began to spark, and the realization washed over me which was that this was going to be another Rams–Seahawks game decided by a field goal or less.
The record is almost exactly split — 27–28 entering the game and so now it is even at 28 wins each in the series. This was the 16th time a game ended by 3 points or less in the rivalry.
Rams’ Defense: The Unit That Kept Everything From Collapsing
Whatever frustration existed with the offense, and most of it centered on the passing game, even though Stafford avoided any major mistakes, the run game actually found success at various points. The defense, meanwhile, was everywhere and absolutely ferocious. From my seat and vantage point, there were countless near sacks. Darnold was nearly swallowed up by massive defenders multiple times, yet he managed to slip through and extend plays.
As for the overall feel of this Rams defense, this group is no longer a feel-good, youth-movement surprise. They’re legit. They’re unified. They’re borderline nasty. They’re fast as hell. They are everywhere. And above all, they’re disciplined in a way that’s becoming the true core of their identity.Most of all, in a nutshell and to be basic, they won yesterday’s game big time.
The cornerbacks? Playing as well as any unit in the NFC.
The safeties? Everywhere at once, making impossible plays look routine.
The red-zone defense? Near flawless. Only one touchdown.
And leading the charge was rookie safety Kamren Kinchens, who played like he was plugged into the stadium’s electrical grid. Two interceptions in the biggest moments. Perfect instincts. Perfect anticipation. If the league didn’t know his name before Sunday, it does now.
Seattle moved the ball — 279 passing yards will tell you that — but every time they sniffed the red zone, the Rams slammed the door, turned the lock, and swallowed the key. Seattle finished 1-for-4 in the red zone, and that single touchdown came only after a penalty wiped out a score the previous play.
Darnold threw four interceptions, and every one felt heavier than the last. You could physically see the Seahawks’ 10-game road winning streak crack under the pressure of this Defense.
Offense: Limited Volume, Maximum Damage
The Rams managed to produce 249 yards on Offense. That’s usually a recipe for disaster, however living as a ram fan, we had games where the team had 200 yards and Eric Dickerson had 120 of them many times. Never did I feel like we could not score at the drop of a dime.
The Rams went 3-for-4 in the red zone, a stunning contrast to Seattle’s struggles.
The scorers:
- Kyren Williams, bulldozing for a 1-yard score after Kinchens’ first interception practically gift-wrapped field position. No fumbles which is another victory of sort.
- Davante Adams, catching a crisp 1-yard slant from Stafford as if he were casually picking apples in the end zone. Adams had two missed catches in my eyes.
- Colby Parkinson, scoring the game-winner — yes, against his old team — on a smooth 6-yard strike after a Stafford rollout. That made up for his two penalties.
Parkinson’s touchdown was poetic. It was personal. It was to make up for two mistakes but most of all, it was clutch.
That Hyphenated Receiver, That Absurd One-Handed Catch
Let’s also talk about the Seahawks receiver with the hyphenated name who pulled off one of the most absurd one-handed catches of the season. It looked effortless. It was the kind of play that defies defenders because you simply cannot stop it. And I learned something I had never really considered until recently: apparently, hyphenated names can be passed down through family lines—even for men, let alone professional athletes. Who knew? A little lesson delivered right in the middle of my frustration.
Even with that play, even with the flashes of brilliance Seattle showed, the Rams defensive backs were relentless. Physical without drawing flags. It was textbook coverage in a league that practically makes coverage illegal. Every D-Back were in all all plays and many times capitalized on it.
Also, this rugby tush push thing and some of the kkicking rules have to go. Case in point is the rams somehow started at the 40 Yard Line. Granted they went three and out but set that aside, what is that rule? Please get the kick off’s back to some norm. Thanks for that too along with never using the almost 100% dark uniforms. BTW, I like the helmet as a gimmick but maybe not. I dont like those uniforms. They should never use them ever again.
The Ending That Nearly Killed Everyone Watching
Jason Myers lined up for a 61-yard field goal with time expiring, the game hanging in the balance, the Rams clinging to a 21–19 lead that felt thinner than wet paper.
However, my dad called me to say congratulations, even though on my TV the play hadn’t even started yet. His phone was ahead of my broadcast. I knew the kick wouldn’t go through because my dad said we had the ball on first down with maybe one second left. I therefore knew the future which is fine in that case where the team did not lose.
If that kick goes through, everything would suck right now. The black uniforms become a curse on top of that confusion. I maintain the players were confused. The self-inflicted penalties become the story. The wasted second quarter becomes the headline.
But it sailed wide, and even though I briefly felt like I’d gone back to the future by knowing the outcome, I wasn’t surprised by the miss at all. Kickers are having a rough season across the league this year. You see incredible kickers nailing 55-yarders with ease one day, only to miss a 23-yarder or an extra point the next. Some of the best kickers are breaking records while also missing seemingly routine kicks. My point is that so far this year, for a kicker, nothing is automatic, even after being automatic.
And with that miss, the Rams didn’t just survive as we cannot lose tracks that they took sole possession of first place in the NFC West, improving to 8–2 while dropping Seattle to 7–3.
A Win That Wasn’t Pretty, But Was Absolutely Earned
This wasn’t the cleanest game. It wasn’t the smoothest. It wasn’t even a game the Rams truly won in a traditional sense.
It was a game they simply refused to lose.
They dug in. They tightened up. They capitalized where Seattle couldn’t. They made red-zone trips count. They made defensive stands matter. They held the Seahawks to Field Goals 4 times. They made a rivalry matchup feel like playoff-level combat. This was a hard win from my seat.
And So, On the Rampage This Week
The Rams walked off their home field drenched in sweat, wrapped in relief, and carrying a victory that demanded every ounce of grit they had. It was a win that felt like work. A win that felt like survival. A win that tested fan patience, blood pressure, vocabulary, and emotional stability.
But a win that mattered.
A win that kept them atop the NFC West.
A win that proved — ugly uniforms or not — this team has the backbone, the poise, and the defensive firepower to weather chaos and still stand tall.
I have no clue yet who we play next week. Maybe Arizona but I guess I never looked beyond this game.
Regardless, remember to burn those black uniforms and let’s never speak of them again.