Is hating the Broncos even worth it anymore?
Elway, the guy who rudely won Super Bowl XXXII instead of the Packers.
Ben: Complaining about a Super Bowl feels like a stupid thing to do in Wisconsin right now. The Green Bay Packers currently hold the world championship, and the shining memories of them taking down Team Rapelisberger to do so are still as vivid as the stinging in our hands was that day from high-fiving everything in sight. Super Bowl MVP Aaron Rodgers, coming off lighting up the top three seeds in the NFC, threw the lingering specter of Brett Favre completely out of the stadium. Christina Aguilera messed up the National Anthem. In short, it was the greatest day. But for some, me included, the glory of that day could not completely erase the (possibly irrational) hatred for the team that screwed it up for the Pack the last time they were in the Super Bowl.
This Sunday, the Packers invite the currently hapless Denver Broncos into Lambeau for what will hopefully be a soul-shattering rout. Even though the team that Denver sends onto the field is not even close to the team that ran over the Packers in Super Bowl XXXII, I still hate them for exactly that reason. Taking away the Packers chance to repeat—something only they and the Goddamn New England Patriots have done since—while helicopter twirling and doing that incredibly irritating and rigid salute celebration is a crime I have yet to forgive. Sure, the Broncos theoretically played a good game and helped end a long stretch of AFC futility in the big game, but I don’t care. They beat us in the Super Bowl, put a 19-year-old, slightly drunk me on the verge of tears, and did so in such an obnoxiously inspirational fashion that it still makes me want to puke. As a Denver resident and someone who probably thought that saluting stuff was cool, Cory, you must have felt differently about that game.
Cory: Yeah, you could say I felt differently about that game, since to this day I still consider it the single greatest game of professional football I have ever seen. Look at it this way—take that feeling you felt last year when you won, then multiply it by the fact that Denver had never won a Super Bowl to that point (last year was the Packers’ fourth, right?), and that John Elway himself—unquestionably the greatest Bronco to ever wear the uniform—had been to the big game three times and gotten his ass handed to him every single time, and you might get an idea of how I felt. Or look at it this way: Erase Green Bay’s previous three Super Bowls, then imagine if Bart Starr was still playing for the Packers and they finally won their first championship last year. That’s about how it felt. It was a pretty good day, in other words. Even if it did make you cry.
Oh, and that “rigid salute” is called the Mile High Salute, and it is a proud part of Broncos history. It’s like our version of the Lambeau Leap, only the player performing it has a much lower chance of getting randomly groped by creepy, obsessive fans. The helicopter twirl leap was one of the game’s iconic moments, but considering that even on that day it seemed to signal that the momentum was firmly on the Broncos side and wasn’t going anywhere, I can see why you’d feel somewhat differently. I am a little dumbfounded at how you can hold a grudge against a team that, for the last few years, has seemingly strived to be the worst team in professional football. When the Pack hangs 75 points on them this weekend, is it going to make you feel better? Will you then be able to forgive the Broncos for being awesome in the ’90s?
Ben: Yeah, maybe then I will. After all, the ’90s were a long time ago. The Broncos have conveniently kept their suckiness out of the way of the majestic Pack since then. I’ll always have the memory of Elway frowning at the ESPY Awards when Will Ferrell (as Harry Caray) made a joke about his teeth. Also, I seem to remember Elway’s video game being vastly inferior to Tecmo Bowl.
But you have to understand a few things. When you lose the Super Bowl, like the Broncos did in ’87, ’88, and again in ’90—before the Buffalo Bills took over Super Bowl losing duties for the AFC—it’s your right and/or obligation as a fan to hate the opposing team for at least a few years. Maybe I carried my burning disgust for the Broncos a bit too long, but I promise that after the Packers finish trouncing Denver’s neckbeard-led offense into the turf this Sunday, I’ll finally make it a point to bury the hatchet. Besides, is it even worth hating this version of the Broncos? I’ll let the Tim Tebow and his mom answer that question for me.
Cory: Speaking of lost Super Bowls, you forgot the Broncos ignominious loss in 1978. And I know all about hating the team you lose to; there’s no doubt my hatred of the Dallas Cowboys and San Francisco 49ers owes something to having those losses seared into me when I was but a tender child. But it did help seeing those teams suffer through a few years in the wilderness, and it certainly helps to watch them get beat up on by your now-dominant team, so I predict you will, in fact, be over your irrational hatred of the blue and orange after this weekend. Well, at least mostly over it. You’re still going to have nightmares about Elway helicoptering to victory from time to time.
As a side note, hating Tebow for being a Bible-thumping douche nozzle and over-hyped, under-played source of fodder for the sports pages is fine, but that’s no reason to hate the team. Heck, it’s not even reason enough to hate Tebow as a player, since his performance on the field has little to do with the idiocy that surrounds him off it. Now, if Kyle Orton goes down and Tebow comes in and leads the team to a stirring, come-from-behind victory, you’ll have ample reason to hate both him and the team again. Until that happens (note: not going to happen), you should just relax, enjoy watching B.J. Raji crush Orton under his gut a few times en route to an easy Pack victory, and get that Mile High monkey off your back once and for all. Heck, you even seem well positioned to finally get those back-to-back championships you’ve been dreaming of since you were 19, so consider Sunday one easy step toward that ultimate goal. Me, I’ll just remind myself that if even Buffalo and Detroit can eventually return to being contenders, hope remains for the Broncos. In a few years. Not more than five. I hope.
