Somber moment on 'Hard Knocks' reveals connection between Seahawks coach Mike Macdonald and his players | Dave Boling

NCAAF College Football News, Photos, Stats, Scores, Schedule & Videos...

Aug. 27—Twenty-eight seconds of silence.

Whether or not the Seattle Seahawks go on to defend their World Championship in 2026, those 28 seconds of silent connection should be viewed as an important moment.

None of the civilians outside the team headquarters would have been aware of it if not for the HBO "Hard Knocks" cameras that were there to capture it.

Now preparing for the start of his third season as head coach of the Seahawks, Mike Macdonald already has proven himself a defensive mastermind, but continues to add to his bona fides as a motivator and leader.

Macdonald took a personal moment near the start of a recent team meeting to tell perhaps 100 players and staff of the passing of a beloved mentor, former Ravens linebacker O.J. Brigance. Brigance fought through ALS for 19 years before dying last week.

Macdonald cited his brave battle and his unrelenting positive attitude as a source of inspiration.

As he looked up at pictures of Brigance on the video screen, Macdonald's sense of loss overtook him. For 28 seconds, the room was silent, every player seeing the pain on the coach's face. They seemed spellbound by his obvious emotion.

Macdonald finally apologized. Several players assured him, "you're good," and "we're family."

It was raw. It was real. It was authentic. I thought if it had gone on a few seconds longer, the entire team might have gone up and encircled him.

Here's why it hit so hard. Every one of those players, in their silence, looked at the screen, and could recognize themselves in the image of Brigance. Could they be that strong and courageous in those circumstances?

And whether they could or not, how assuring would it be to know that a coach like Macdonald would be so deeply connected to their plight? Could any of them ever question Macdonald's sincerity as a coach?

It seemed reflective of the old saying that they don't care how much you know until they know how much you care.

For a lot of fans, the "Hard Knocks" series has provided an engrossing, behind-the-scenes insight into this edition of Seahawks.

Through the first four episodes, the biggest star has been Seattle. The mountain, the Sound, the lakeside headquarters with resident bald eagles.

It provides a ridiculously scenic and idyllic environment for what, to the uninitiated, has to seem like an extraordinarily violent and often profane business enterprise.

It has always been that way; it just hasn't been open to all-access cameras.

For a long time, the Seahawks tried to avoid being selected for the series, not wanting the general public, or other teams, for that matter, to know how they operate.

But it couldn't have been more positive if it had been produced by the Chamber of Commerce.

For being so new to head coaching, turning 39 near the start of training camp, Macdonald has shown himself a master of messaging and creative means of reaching the team.

Heck, he's worked his way into my marriage.

For example: My wife and I often took walks, but now we do "walk and talks."

That's an influence of Macdonald, who regularly pairs up his Seahawk players for ambulatory conversations, giving them chances to get better acquainted — while not in the process of slamming into one another.

I explained to my wife that this makes the walks more intentional, geared to building "team" unity. And in a marriage, as in a football season, the standard is the standard, and consistent achievement is the result of stacking positive days.

So, we stay loose. But focused.

Macdonald certainly is a more than worthy heir to the line of head coaches who have directed the Seahawks through 50 years, from periods of drought and growth, and reaching the pinnacle of success.

Somebody covering the team over the years couldn't help but absorb their varied influences.

Chuck Knox always exuded western Pennsylvania toughness. He had a spine of steel and a voice that rumbled as if the words had forced their way through a mouthful of bituminous coal. You come anywhere near that man, you knew he meant business.

Despite the team's struggles in his tenure, Tom Flores always remained a gentleman. When asked for explanations during the disastrous 2-14 season of 1992, Flores would sit back, stretch his long fingers into a steeple in front of his face, and when he came up empty, he'd simply shake his head and say: "Dunno."

Loved that. He gave no excuses, and apparently was open to suggestions.

Dennis Erickson had some terrible luck over four years with the Seahawks, and doesn't get the credit he deserved for pulling the franchise out of a deep ditch.

The thing to remember from his press conferences? How often he would reach into his pocket and pull out the ever-present roll of antacids that lived there. People tell you about the money and prestige, but nobody warns you about the reflux.

Owner Paul Allen then lured Mike Holmgren from the Packers. Big-time hire. True game-changer.

For 10 seasons, I found him endlessly fascinating and intelligent to a degree that I came away from almost every press engagement feeling a little bit smarter. So much class, a man of depth and dimension, Holmgren could have succeeded in any profession.

Pete Carroll brought so many things, most especially boundless energy and optimism. When asked how he got so much done in a day, he once advised, "find the time between the times." He explained how much time everybody wastes during the day. He was right. It was great practical advice.

For never having been a head coach, Macdonald has quickly proven his capacity to guide the team to the highest level.

Sometimes doing it without saying a word.

More at NCAAF College Football News, Photos, Stats, Scores, Schedule & Videos