My most poignant Broncos memories involved a playoff win and loss: I watched one night as they made a massive comeback in the playoffs versus Houston (The Oilers, not Broncos South). That game will always stand out for me. My dad was never more than a fair weather football fan, but that night in early January of 1992, he walked in from outside to see me standing alone in the living room cheering my guts out as Elway led the Broncos back from the brink of oblivion. Dad stood there with me and watched Elway take that team on his shoulders and pull off a stunning comeback that epitomized all Elway had come to be known for. He got as caught up in the passion and energy of that moment as I did, cheering loudly at play after play. I think he might have become a Broncos fan that night. A couple of days later, he died in his sleep at the age of 46. The following weekend, I watched as the Broncos played a lifeless and lackluster game against the Bills that ended 10-7. It was the only Broncos game I have ever witnessed where I didn't feel anything. Many seasons have passed since then. I have cried tears of joy at finally seeing the Broncos break through versus the Brett Favre led Packers. I watched them flirt with perfection before winning their second Superbowl against the laughable Falcons. I watched John take his Superbowl MVP and his two rings and ride off into the sunset. I watched him deservedly enter the Hall of Fame. I watched the cruel hand of fate interrupt the shining career of T.D. I watched Griese and Portis and Jake and Mike Anderson and Rod and I have witnessed so much of the Broncos lore with both joy and a fair measure of despair. I have come to love this game and this team. I live and die on every play, just as I am sure many of my fellow Broncos fans do. But nothing will ever come close to the feelings I felt during the Oiler game in January of 1992 when I was 19 and for a moment, at least, my dad became a Broncos fan.

Go Broncos!!!