Jock Itch Pouring one out for the Barrel Man

The Denver Broncos lost their biggest cheerleader this past weekend: Tim “Barrel Man” McKernan, 69, died of lung failure on Saturday, Dec. 5, leaving behind a rich legacy as the Broncos’ most recognizable fan.

If you don’t know who the Barrel Man is, then you haven’t watched a Broncos game in the last 30 years. McKernan started wearing nothing more than an orange barrel and a cowboy hat back in 1977—on a bet with his brother—and proudly represented the Broncos as their unofficial mascot up to his retirement after the 2007 season. Health problems were preventing him from getting out there in his cardboard cask, but his fervent dedication to the Broncos stayed with him up to the very end.

As a kid, I was a little horrified when they’d get around to showing the Barrel Man at least once on every televised Broncos game. I didn’t know whether to feel embarrassed or proud that someone who could easily be my father was out there in 20-degree weather wearing a cardboard tube. In the end, he became a source of pride: That dude may be crazy, but he was our crazy.

There aren’t many super-fans like Barrel Man left, and McKernan was the most familiar of the bunch. The era of the wacky fan that goes to every game dressed like a lunatic is a thing of the past. There are still some goofball Raider fans who dress up like dollar-store Orcs, but you really can’t tell them from the other bozos wearing face paint. And the New York Jets have Fireman Ed, an angry, white guy with a green and white fireman’s helmet who does nothing but frown and lead the crowd in the droll “J-E-T-S! Jets! Jets! Jets!” chant. Then there’s the guy in Minnesota who dresses up as—you guessed it—a Viking. He braids his long blonde hair and puts on a horned helmet (if you can call that a costume). I think he already owned the buckskin vest, broadsword, and fur-topped boots.

Vicki Ray, the beloved Sign Lady of the Denver Nuggets, is probably the closest thing we have left like the Barrel Man. Ray holds a handmade placard of support for the players at every home game. She’s much more understated than the above examples, but in a town now short one super-fan, we’ll take her.

So why is the super-fan an endangered species? My guess is that younger fans have no interest in carving out an outlandish identity for themselves like their forebears did. It seems that most of the super-fans are from an older generation where reality television hadn’t yet sullied their intellect and left them as mindless voyeurs. Young fans either doesn’t want to put the work in to be considered a team’s No. 1 fanatic or they’d rather achieve their accolades by acquiring the most Twitter followers. It’s warmer that way. And with all the waxing the young people do these days, who would want to be out in the south stands freezing their nipples off?

Someone needs to step up and fill the void left by the passing of the Barrel Man. I’m not suggesting this person strap on the barrel—that’s been done. But if a fan is fanatical about the Broncos—and drunk enough—I’m sure he or she will come up with something. I’m glad the last Broncos game the Barrel Man got to watch was a win (a 26-6 against the Giants). And wherever he’s at now, I’m sure he’s in his barrel, rooting on the Broncos as they navigate their way into the playoffs. But as the Broncos place their biggest fan on permanent injured reserve, they sure could use someone to take his place.