It is without question that our lives are quantified by a series of redemptions. Every success is preceded by failure; every twist and turn is a product of crisis that forces us to rise above it. And of course, as those who are born dead in sin, our only hope for life and peace with God is the redemption story of Jesus Christ and the hope of the gospel.
The idea is baked into our consciousness. It inundates our stories, and gives us heroes and legends. No one who is remembered among the sons of men can claim a life free from the power of redemption.
And in the world of sports, fans and casual onlookers alike are treated to these stories on a constant and, for the cynical and jaded, maybe even a nausea-inducing basis.
They are so commonplace that we might become desensitized to them, and honestly, they do not often stay with us once the story is written. But that’s ok. More will come. What is important is celebrating the most human elements of every big stage, and that includes the biggest redemption stories that wrote themselves at Super Bowl LX in San Francisco.
Where to start. Really. Both teams were massive underdogs to even make the NFL’s championship bout. Stories were written that there was no longer-shot to make the Super Bowl when the season began five months ago. The New England Patriots, 29-13 losers in the contest that unfolded Sunday, were fresh off a 4-13 season and the firing of first-year coach Jerod Mayo. Seattle, meanwhile, finished last year 10-7 and had noisily moved on from its former quarterback and top wide receiver.
And an honorable mention, truly, has to be the Seahawks’ defensive lineman Derrick Hall. Years before his bone-jarring sack of New England’s Drake Maye on the NFL’s biggest stage, Hall was born four months premature and without any discernable heartbeat. His mother fought for his life, though, and on Sunday, he fought alongside a tough-as-nails defense in a dominant performance.
Here, though are three stories coming out of Sunday’s game that show the redemptive power of sports.
Sam Darnold became a household name as a college quarterback at USC. It really is a baffling storyline that Darnold became the Trojans’ first QB alum to win a Super Bowl, considering the strong lineage of quarterbacks that have come from one of the West Coast’s predominant college programs.
Parlaying a Rose Bowl win in 2017 into a No. 3 overall pick in the following NFL draft, Darnold went to the New York Jets, and only a couple of years later was left for dead, traded to Carolina.
Three teams later, and starting just his second season since the early part of his career, Darnold was the face of a largely unknown Seahawks’ roster that started the year projected to finish in the cellar of their division.
Throughout the year, the story was written in stone. He can’t win the big one, he chokes in big moments, he’s a bust. All he did was lead the Seahawks to a 14-win season (personally his second consecutive season with 14 wins as the starting QB) and then plod a perfect path through the playoffs – three wins, no turnovers, Super Bowl Champs.
Was he the most impressive player on the field for 60 minutes on Sunday? No. But he didn’t have to be. He had to be tough. He had to protect the ball, play fearless, and stand fast.
And he did that. Despite a rabid Patriots’ pass rush, Darnold didn’t blink. And his courage in the pocket led to a consistent moving of the ball and even one perfect touchdown pass to tight end A.J. Barner in the third quarter.
Written off for dead, maligned and panned by the league, Darnold came back to win it all. Sam Darnold, Redemption.
Two years ago the Seattle Seahawks’ brass had a decision to make. After a 9-8 season and a disappointing season following the trade of Russell Wilson, Coach Pete Carroll and GM John Schneider were headed toward a messy divorce.
And the only question was, would ownership take the side of the coach who brought the city its first NFL title in 2013? Or would it stick with the architect of that roster that hoisted the Lombardi Trophy after defeating Peyton Manning and the Denver Broncos?
Staggeringly to some, Schneider stayed, Carroll was out. The gum-chomping, white-sneaker pacing, larger than life head coach left a massive cultural and personality void bigger than the Puget Sound.
And for Schneider, the clock was ticking.
His job was to replace a future potential hall of fame coach and rebuild a roster that had been bleeding talent since the dissolution of the Legion of Boom. His big move? He brought in a first-year defensive coach from Baltimore, a Jim and John Harbaugh acolyte, Mike Macdonald.
How obscure was this hire? During the leadup to the Super Bowl, passers by were asked by a national podcaster if they could identify the man in a picture. No takers. It was Macdonald. He’s even-keeled, he’s defense-first. He doesn’t have a quarterback pedigree in an offensive-minded league.
After a 10-7 maiden voyage, Schneider knew it was time for a change of quarterback, again. The team did not re-sign Geno Smith at the position, he of the former comeback player of year award in his first season in Seattle.
Geno Smith and DK Metcalf wanted out, thinking Seattle had hit a ceiling.
— Tyler A. Gates©️ (@tyleragates) February 9, 2026
Now it’s starting to look like they may have been part of that ceiling. pic.twitter.com/8AePWHJj2d
No, Schneider let fly by bringing in Darnold, a widely panned decision that led many to believe Seattle was moving backward at the sport’s most important position.
Instead of finishing last in the West, though, Schneider’s rebuilt roster won a highly-contested NFC West, out-dueled the Super Bowl favorite Los Angeles Rams, and then dominated the Patriots for 60 minutes to win the Super Bowl.
Winner of the front office of the year award, builder of not one, but two championship rosters, and vindicated after the Carroll firing. John Schneider, redemption.
Full transparency. I am a lifelong Seahawks fan. And that fandom stretches back to the 80s and 90s; so far back in fact, that I’ve never self-identified as a “12-er”.
Be that as it may, the Seahawks’ fan base over the last decade or so, has famously been known as the “12’s”. And the reason for the moniker is that the fans of the Seattle football team have cultivated the sport’s best home field advantage, becoming a veritable 12th man on the field.
Macdonald, in his second year, keyed in on this to come up with one of his favorite cultural pillars this season: 12 is 1. Not 11 is 1, 12. Here was his homage to the fanbase clamoring for a return to the promised land.
That journey has been painful for Seahawk fans. I distinctly remember watching in agony as Russell Wilson’s pass from the 1-yard line sailed right into the belly of Patriot’s defender Malcolm Butler to seal a New England victory in the Super Bowl.
No, that was not what unfolded Sunday in Levi’s Stadium. That was the death knell moment of Super Bowl XLIX in 2015. That game was the last championship appearance by Seattle in over 10 years and was the beginning of the end of a team seemingly on the cusp of a dynasty.
Eleven years later, the Hawks got the same opponent in New England, even though the rosters and coaching staffs had completely changed. Here was a chance to face the same opponent, and for Seattle fans everywhere, to finish the job they had come so tantalizingly close to sealing against the Patriots a decade ago.
Crushed hopes revived. Seahawks’ 12th man, redemption.
Now I’m aware, sports have an unhealthy hook in millions of Americans. As a former sports junkie, in ongoing recovery, I can fully attest to this fact.
But one thing I’ve learned over decades of following many sports is that its draw – outside of the majesty of the arenas, the freakish athleticism constantly on display, and the larger than life personalities that make up the biggest legends of any game – is primarily because it is infinitely relatable to the human condition.
There are failures that bring men and women lower than could have been conceived. There are miraculous outcomes that have to be seen to be believed. Nobody can become somebody in one moment, frozen in time.
And nothing is more relatable than redemption. It is our deepest need. It is the longing of our hearts, fulfilled only in Jesus Christ. And it echoes throughout all of our endeavors.
