The Denver Post had another of their limitless John Elway updates this week. In it, Elway hit upon a very realistic feeling. He said that Bronco fans aren't as passionate about the team anymore, and are content with the two Super Bowl titles. I'm gulity as charged.
Growing up and watching the Broncos, I was jealous of most of the other teams in the league. I felt that no matter how many times Ken O'Brien misfired, Jets fans could be content because they had their Super Bowl title. No matter how ugly it was in Kansas City or Miami, the fans could rest knowing that they had their run at the top. Even Buffalo could find some solace, with their old AFL titles (but that's splitting hairs). Just once, in my lifetime, I wanted my favorite football team to win it all. I wanted MY downtown to have a goofy parade. I wanted every other fan in the country to envy MY team.
The last six years of middle-of-road, dishrag, "we've got too much talent to be .500" inconsistency from this team has finally killed me. Now you can sit there and say "ES, you douchebag, you're not a REAL fan. Real fans stick behind their team no matter what". I'll respond with "okay, so why didn't I see YOU at that sub freezing overtime game against Seattle in 1999, or in the stands against Blair Kiel and the Packers in 1990".
Maybe I'm finally growing up, but this franchise is stuck in neutral...and I frankly don't care as much anymore. This coming from a guy who refused to work Sundays through high school and college, just so he could stay home and watch Bronco games. A guy who waited for four hours to get Derek Russell's autograph. A guy who, whenever anyone asked him "how're the Broncos gonna' do this year", he'd always respond "Super Bowl" (Even after the 1994 season). A guy who would take vacations with his old man to Greeley. A guy who about wet his pants when he sold back-up center Bob Meeks a barbeque grill. A weenie who would write long-ass weekly game summaries on his crappy website for an audience of himself. A guy who left work early in November 1998 to make sure his stadium vote was cast. And now he doesn't care.
Ironically, if I had to pinpoint when my apathy began, it'd be June 2003 at the Broncos' ridiculous "Fan Fest". I paid something like 15-20 bucks to walk around the stadium, see a buncha mascots play touch football (wow..who could forget that spiral Rapid Man threw to the Red Robin mascot), worthless memorablia booths, and long lines to get an autograph from Michael Ditchfield or Wade Manning. I wasn't expecting an intimate session with Renee Herlocker or a chance to interview my hero Simon Fletcher, but I walked out of there with a hitch in my step...like somebody had just raped me via the rear hatch (ummm...not that I know what that feels like. Sheesh, just go with the analogy, bunky). I still can't belive I paid money to waste a day like that. This from a guy who felt good about paying 8 bucks to see "Daredevil".
For the past few years, I'll flip on the radio or TV and there's a Bronco talking about "too much talent". Great. Maybe Dan Niel can play the banjo, Roc Alexander makes a mean souffle and Monstanto Pope is an accomplished impressionist painter.
It's not so much the wins and losses. It's the weak aura of this team. Lenny Walls celebrating after "deflecting" a pass that hit him in the back of the helmet. Micah Knorr still holding a job despite his pedestrian punts and kick-offs (how many times do I have to tell ya...wait until the little meter goes to the red part of the circle. THEN hit the "X" button on your controller). All the talk, all the hype....and the annual stall.
Snif...it's just not working anymore, Broncos. I have to let you go... when the love dies, what's left? I hope you do well and find somebody who appreciates you... and you make each other very happy. Snif. It's time for me to move on. We're just not in each other's lives as much anymore. If I'm bored on Sundays, I might check in on you. If I'm bored on Sundays I also might pop in a movie. Or bike more often. Or clean my bath tub...or other productive things I could be doing.
I'm done with football. I may still watch it and laugh at the silly stories or highlights, but my PASSION has finally been drained. As a wee lad, born in Pittsburgh, I wanted to be Terry Bradshaw. This led me to suffer 18 head injuries and spend a good portion of my life playing, coaching and following football. It may have been fun, but at one point I have to realize that it's over and there's nothing left. Sooner or later I have to grow up and stop waiting in the pumpkin patch for the Great Pumpkin to appear.