I’ve lived a half-hour-to-an-hour away from Cleveland my whole life. That I didn’t grow up a Browns fan is pretty blasphemous. But being born in 1993 probably explains it. This is crucial for two reasons. One, there was no team for my parents to attach me to when I didn’t have the choice. Two, I took my first steps during the O.J. Simpson chase, my first experience with a white bronco. Perhaps it was destiny.
When I did have the choice to pick my own team, the Browns were too bad to hang onto. I’ve always prided myself on not being a bandwagon/fair-weather fan, but I think I realize now that probably played a role.
When I was around nine years old, I didn’t have a favorite team, but watched the Browns if I felt like paying attention to football that week. I remember the Tim Couch vs. Kelly Holcomb debates and getting a foam potato that said “Couch potato” on it from a local sports talk radio host. That was what I began growing up with.
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But then I started to see other teams and players around the NFL. The first player that truly caught my attention and affection was Randy Moss, so much so that I almost became a Vikings fan.
What stopped me was finding a blue jersey in my basement with the number 30 worn out. I didn’t know whom it belonged to. I picked it up and saw “Broncos” on the front and the name “Davis” on the back. I didn’t know who this “Davis” was, but thanks to the Internet, I found out.
Ever since then, and ever since Jake Plummer, who would eventually become my favorite player, went to Denver in 2003, I’ve been a Broncos fan through thick and mostly thin (thank you, Pat Bowlen).
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At some point between the AFC championship game in 2006 and the Josh McDaniels era, I made a promise with my parents that if the Broncos ever make the Super Bowl, I would get a ticket and forgo my Christmas presents for the next five years.
Unfortunately for them, I didn’t know the actual value of money and they didn’t know that I would remember this and take it to heart, carrying it with me for almost 10 years when the Broncos actually made the Super Bowl.
So over the years when Super Bowl ticket prices went through the roof and I was ignorantly hoping my parents were keeping a “Get Dan to the Super Bowl” fund, of course I didn’t have the resources to go. That was the only thing that didn’t line up for me (besides the Broncos getting blown up and almost shut out).
The Broncos finally made the big game and it was within driving distance of my home (I am deathly terrified of flying). Combine this with my biggest childhood dream of going to the Super Bowl still staying with me all these years and my disappointment when the day actually came overshadowed any excitement I had going into the game.
When I tell people I know that that was one of the worst days of my life, they get it, but they don’t really get it.
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From the time I believed I would eventually get to a Broncos Super Bowl to the time they actually got there, a lot happened in my life that typical teenagers go through: going to high school, getting new friends, losing friends (and even best friends), losing family members, and going to college. There were a lot of tough moments that literally everyone goes through, but that I had a tough time handling.
The Broncos were one of the few things in my life that were able to remain consistent for me. I got to watch them every Sunday. I even became a regular at a local restaurant that carried the Broncos games when my area didn’t have them that week.
Sports are pretty trivial, but when you go through tough times, or even what you perceive as tough times, you turn to things that are always there for you. For me, those things were my parents and my Broncos.
When it was set that the Broncos would be playing in MetLife Stadium, I felt like I had gone through enough adversity to deserve a trip to New Jersey, as if that actually matters or that I actually knew what real adversity was.
When I sat in my living room watching the pregame events I was beyond bummed out. I tried to work up some fake goose bumps, but it was worthless. It kind of worked out that I was miserable before the game because there was literally nothing to be happy about during it.
I was upset about not being there to watch that colossal disappointment and I was upset that I was at home where it wasn’t a big deal to anyone but me. (There should’ve been banners hanging up and a cake for me. This was my Super Bowl too!!).
This led me to seriously contemplating becoming a Browns fan, since I felt it was more fun to cheer for a bad team with a group of people than cheer for a good team alone.
At halftime, I drove an hour back to my apartment, which was 15 minutes away from where I go to school. I heard Percy Harvin’s opening half touchdown return on the radio.
I couldn’t sleep that night, or many nights that year. I lived off-campus. I felt alone and unproductive (which caused me to move back on campus and get more involved). And ultimately, I learned the obvious that even with a Broncos Super Bowl win, I still had to go to school the next day. I don’t get a ring, to touch the trophy, or even get to attend the parade that would be almost 1,500 miles away.
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At the beginning of the 2015 season, I wanted to make an effort to try to make watching Broncos football as fun for me now as it was in 2005.
As weird as it sounds, Brock Osweiler playing helped.
Expectations can and did hamper the potential for pure elation I feel when watching sports. My favorite Broncos season prior to 2015 was 2011, when the Broncos started 1-4, finished 8-8, and Tim Tebow and Demaryius Thomas capped off the best win in my fandom.
With Peyton Manning, no matter what age he’s at, most expect to see a highly talented offense and wins no matter what. When that doesn’t happen, whether it’s in a game or throughout the course of the season, it feels like a waste. I wanted to get away from that.
I built up this expectation throughout the years that when the Broncos finally win the Super Bowl, I’ll be there celebrating with my dad (who is a Browns fan, maybe?) and fellow Broncos fans. That would be the best feeling in the world.
Super Bowl 48 forced me to change my expectations about what a Broncos Super Bowl would be like. Osweiler allowed me to do a similar thing on a week-to-week basis. I didn’t know what to expect, which made the wins a lot more fun and the losses heartbreaking instead of maddening (which I considered a good tradeoff).
Now with Manning starting again, and me at a different place in my life, I’m taking everything I’ve learned over the past few years and will try to implement them to making this a more enjoyable Super Bowl experience for me.
I still don’t have the money to go, though I would have the heart to fly. I’ll be watching the game right where I was for the 35-point loss. And even though I won’t be physically watching with anyone that cares about the result, I’ve learned to deal with that.
Because of where I live in relation to where the Broncos play, it means the world to me when I see people in my area with Broncos gear on or when a friend or someone on social media tells me “good luck,” shares my joy in a victory, or even for a split second empathizes with me in a loss (not that I don’t welcome friendly trash talk).
The Broncos mean about as much to me as you can care about a football team with it still not actually coming close to how much you care about your family. I’d like to think I know the pecking order now.
Now, more so than the last few years, I’m able to have an appreciation for the fact that I get to watch something that I have been watching since I had the ability to label things that truly mattered to me. At the same time, I think I’m more able than I was in the past to take this game for what it is. I’m watching my favorite team play in the biggest game in the world. And that’s what makes it great for me. It’s the consistency I’ve always looked for and have always had.