The Broncos’ defense returns an interception for a touchdown in the Dec. 24, 1977 divisional playoff victory over the Steelers at Mile HIgh Stadium. (Ernie Leyba, The Denver Post)
San Jose, Calif. — It’s hard to believe I’m covering my 10th Super Bowl Sunday, and my fourth involving the Broncos.
It’s still two hours prior to kickoff in Super Bowl 50 and I’m thinking about about my personal history with the Broncos. I remembered a column I posted last year and figured I would share it again before the Broncos take on Cam Newton and the Panthers:
Sentimental journey.
This time of year, Super Bowl memories tend to percolate in my brain. Broncos Super Bowl memories to be more precise.
Understand that I was born and raised in Colorado, and the Broncos were a huge part of my life. Before I evolved into a cynical sports writer — first covering the Broncos and now the Rockies — I was a fan.
The Broncos have played in seven Super Bowls, winning twice and getting blasted five times. I covered three of those seven games, watching John Elway’s Broncos win Super Bowl XXXII and XXXIII, and seeing Peyton Manning’s Broncos get embarrassed 43-8 by the Seahawks in last year’s game in New Jersey.
I have distinct memories of all seven Broncos Super Bowls … pain, disappointment, embarrassment and exaltation.
Yet, after all of these years, the first Super Bowl journey remains the most vivid in my mind.
The road to New Orleans was all that really mattered. Nothing in Colorado sports — not even Rocktober — will ever match the passion inspired by the Orange Crush.
I was a freshman at Fort Lewis College in Durango in 1977. I came home at Thanksgiving and was lucky enough to go the old Mile High Stadium to witness the Broncos beat the Baltimore Colts 27-13 to improve to 10-1. Linebacker Tom Jackson broke the Colts’ back with an interception off quarterback Bert Jones. Jackson snatched the ball from the air and raced 73 yards for a touchdown. T.J. tossed the ball into the stands after his TD. Mile High rocked like it had never rocked before.
But that was just the beginning.
I came home for Christmas break and was able to attend the first two playoff games in Broncos history. First, the Broncos beat the vaunted Steelers 34-21 and then, gloriously, beat the hated Raiders 20-17 in the AFC championship game.
I remember it like it was yesterday. My cousin, John, cut his face while scrambling over the fence to join the thousands of fans flooding the field and tearing down the goal posts.
My brother, Steve, and my cousin, Mark, spotted two flags flying above the South Stands. They worked their way to the top and took home two prized souvenirs. My brother has the Colorado flag tucked among his keepsakes. My cousin has stashed the American flag in a safe place.
I was seated too high up in the stands to reach the field and join the mosh pit on the field. Still, the parade of fans shouting “We’re No. 1” as they exited Mile High reverberates to this day.
As for the Super Bowl itself, the Broncos lost 27-10 to the glittering Dallas Cowboys. It was a clear mismatch.
I watched the game from a dorm room at Fort Lewis hosted by a red-headed Texan named Dave who used to wear a “Morris the Cat” T-shirt. We drank Orange Crush Punch — Orange Crush soda, orange sherbert and Everclear. After a few glasses, I stood up to stretch at halftime and promptly took a tumble. Everclear, I learned quickly, packs a powerful punch.
I don’t remember a lot about the game itself, other than seeing quarterback Craig Morton looking helpless as he was continually sacked by co-MVPs Harvey Martin and Randy White.
I do remember that those Broncos fans at the Superdome stood and proudly cheered the Broncos as they came off the field after the defeat, thanking the players for the ride of their lives.
I remember it started to snow really hard after the game, turning Durango into a winter wonderland. I walked around in the snow for a long time, coming to grips with the Broncos’ loss.
That was 37 years ago.
Sometimes I miss being a fan.