As it Happened - The AFC Championship Game
Your correspondent took a late flight from Los Angeles to Denver on Friday night for Sunday’s game against the Patriots. I landed two hours later slightly bedraggled, and fuzzy from the two large Stellas consumed at the airport bar prior to takeoff. Having grown up in Denver, I know it’s a town that takes sports seriously, and king among these is Broncos football. And yet, the city’s enthusiasm seems somehow more noticeable now. On my frequent trips to Denver, I notice fan apparel, even on non-game days, much more than I used to. This weekend, the electronic road signs on the way into the city from the airport all read “Go Broncos!”
Similarly, John Elway is an almost ubiquitous presence. His toothy visage graces a billboard welcoming travelers on the descending escalator to Denver. There he was again on an ad in the airport train. I noticed him again on Saturday on a billboard for LASIK surgery. His eponymous steakhouse is prominently situated in a tony central shopping district.
Saturday was spent with the family enjoying a beautiful, sunny, mid-fifties Colorado day while the eastern half of the country was snowed under. The thing on every Denver citizen’s mind, though, was The Game. Many locals privately expressed to me their misgivings. Brady was too good. Denver’s dropped passes the prior week didn’t augur well. And so forth. Others were more sanguine. Did I know, they asked, that the Broncos were 21-9 in home games against New England? Did I know that they were 3-1 in post-season games against New England? I did know, since like all of these fans, in the preceding week I had attempted to read the entrails of the Broncos’ historical record against the Patriots hoping to justify my hometown optimism in the face of naysayers like Sports Illustrated (who predicted a 42-17 Pats victory), and Vegas (which had the Pats as 3 point favorites).
Sunday dawned sunny but a bit cooler than the previous day. For blocks around the stadium, team flags flew, non-NFL approved merchandise was sold, and modest liquor stores advertised $60 parking. By 10am my Dad and I were at our habitual tailgate with Broncos-branded Bud-Lights in our hands.
We left the tailgate about 40 minutes before kickoff, thinking that we would have ample time to locate our seats and get settled, maybe see the parachutists land on the field. The concourse surrounding the stadium was mobbed - more crowded than I have ever seen. Fans jostled against each other and basically stood still as the massed throng tried to get through the stadium gates. We made it to our seats, with about a minute to spare.
Other places have recapped the game more fully than I will here. The peerless Broncos D really carried the day, hitting Brady a staggering 20 times. A rattled New England missed a makeable field goal (ending Gostkowski’s incredible nine year streak without a miss).
After the game ended, and the blue, orange and white confetti swirled in the air like a Broncos blizzard, I couldn’t help but feel a witness to history. This is likely the last time these quarterbacks will face each other. In two weeks Manning will be the oldest QB to start in the Super Bowl, a record previously held by his current boss and some-time LASIK pitchman, John Elway. He will face Cam Newton (26), among the youngest to start in a Super Bowl.
As my Uber sped to the airport in the predawn hours Monday morning, all the electronic road signs read “AFC Champions.” The rows on the airport departures/arrivals screens alternated blue and orange. In the security line, stoic and disappointed New England fans contemplated their four hour flights, and tired but elated Broncos fans in jerseys, hoodies and hats exchanged silent, twinkly-eyed smiles as they boarded the flights that would take them back to their day-to-day lives.