Russell Wilson may or may not be the most interesting man in the world.
But the Seattle Seahawks’ 87.6 million dollar man is surely one of the most influential men in the world who regularly exposes himself to serious injury and noggin trauma.
So when R-Dub promotes a miracle tonic that he says saved him from a major case of the Monday morning quarterback blues and kept him on track for a second straight Super Bowl, the world stops and listens.
And T-Town gets to soak up some of the attention.
Never miss a local story.
It turns out that the headwaters of Wilson’s fountain of youth – or rather, brain health – are right here, on D Street.
We first heard about the company that makes Reliant Recovery Water in The News Tribune last year.
A couple of different articles described how Tacoma businessman Eric Russell launched a biotech startup on the east side of the Thea Foss Waterway in 2006.
The company, called Revalesio, has developed a product called RNS60 that just might turn biology, physics and medicine upside down.
“Something very unusual is happening in Tacoma,” Revalesio President Bert van den Bergh said at the time.
“You would expect this in the Bay Area, Boston, Cambridge,” he said. “The fact is, it’s here.”
To put it simply, the company does revolutionary work with nanobubbles – or, as Don Ho would say, really tiny bubbles – suspended in a saline solution. TNT reporter C.R. Roberts described RNS60 as a “cellular seltzer with effervescence at the tiniest level.”
Sounded refreshing to us. Barkeep, make it a double! (Hiccup!)
But this isn’t your grandfather’s seltzer water. TNT fitness scribe Craig Hill wrote that Reliant (an offshoot of Revalesio) was using the charge-stabilized nanobubbles in its beverage to help protect the body’s cells against damage that can occur during exercise.
What we didn’t know back then is that Wilson is one of the company’s A-list investors.
(It’s not surprising, given the Russell-Russell connection. Russell Wilson is charity partners with The Investment Company That Abandoned Tacoma and Shall Not Be Named, and Eric Russell is the grandson of that company’s founder.)
Well, if you haven’t heard the rest of the story in the last 24 hours, you must be stuck inside a bomb shelter. Or a nanobubble.
The rest of the story: Wilson did an interview for a cover story in Rolling Stone magazine.
He told the writer a secret: Recovery Water kept him feeling good even after he took a nasty above-the-shoulders hit from a linebacker during the NFC championship game.
“I banged my head during the Packers game in the playoffs, and the next day I was fine,” Wilson told the writer. “It was the water.”
Sure, it was. And the NFL’s multibillion-dollar concussion problem will soon be a distant memory.
Not to mention groin pulls, lumbago, male pattern baldness and halitosis.
He added late in the article: “I know it works. Soon you’re going to be able to order it straight from Amazon.”
For only $3 a bottle? Sure, we will.
Heck, if a successful pro athlete tells us Recovery Water is good, we’ll clean our teeth with a Recovery Waterpik, sleep on a Recovery Waterbed and join the neighborhood kids in a Recovery Water balloon fight.
It can’t work any worse than our last health-care program endorsed by a Seahawks star.
Meanwhile, back in science land: The company that makes Recovery Water is missing a red-hot opportunity. The Revalesio website Thursday had nary a word about Russell Wilson’s miracle cure.
Instead, it continued to feature research from 2013 and 2014 about a Phase I clinical trial using RNS60 in the treatment of asthma; findings from two studies that show the potential for treating Alzheimer’s disease; and collaboration with a Swiss neurologist on a clinical trial with multiple sclerosis patients.
That’s the slow, plodding scientific method for ya. It makes life a whole lot better for all of us, but it rarely trends on Twitter.
She said it, not us: The Schnoz would never suggest that there are gangsters on the Tacoma City Council, but Mayor Marilyn Strickland did at Tuesday’s council study session.
During a staff presentation about a new program to get guns out of kids’ hands, one of the points suggested building youth trust – possibly by engaging the “OGs” of Tacoma.
Strickland interrupted project coordinator Melissa Cordeiro and sought clarification for anyone who might not know what an “OG” is.
“It’s ‘original gangster,’” Cordeiro said with a brief, awkward giggle. “It’s usually somebody in the community who’s sort of a leader within their gang, or their set, or their clique.”
Later, Strickland thanked staff for working on gun-safety issues and for testing ideas among young people, “instead of us OGs trying to figure it out ourselves.”
We hear ya, mayor. And frankly, nothing says “gangsta” like a group of establishment politicians sitting through a PowerPoint presentation.