let the good times roll

Before I start I need everyone reading this to know that this entry is only about 15% for real…the remainder 85% is an exaggeration of my true feelings.
Because I have had way too many “serious” thoughts on here lately and frankly too many in my head as well, I thought I’d write a little bit about the art of “loving your team”.
I don’t know if you know this about me but I’m a Broncos fan and I have been for the entire 26 years of my life. To say that my family bleeds blue and orange may be an understatement..case in point? My family has had season tickets to the Broncos for over 30 years, including the 11 years that we spent living in New Jersey. The tickets originated in my grandfather’s name, then were divided between one of my uncles and my dad. Thus, for the entirety of my own life we have owned two seats in the old Mile High Stadium, then the Invesco at Mile High Stadium and now the Sports Authority at Mile High Stadium.
Currently the tickets are managed and paid for by my older brother with the understanding that when I am in town I have the rights to the seats. Because I live out of town it’s easy for us to manage who goes to what games, usually I come waltzing into town and get the two seats for myself and whoever I may want to take with me. Now before you get all defensive for my brother, I’m usually only in town for 2 or 3 games, he gets the rest all to himself.
The only game that we fight over is the one game a year that means the most to both of us. It’s the Raiders game. Growing up a Broncos fan means growing up a Raiders Hater. It’s probably our most intense rivalry (second being the Cheifs in case you were wondering.) So before I moved away from Denver the Brother and I had a deal that when that one game came around, we’d go together because it was the only fair way of doing it.
This year the Raiders game fell on opening weekend on Monday Night. Now, if you follow Football even the smallest amount you know that’s kind of a big deal. Right?? Right. So that older brother of mind decided to be awesome and flew me in for the weekend to attend this coveted game with him. (yep, I’ll keep him, he’s a great guy).
So last night found me 10th row in the corner of the North Endzone cheering on my boys. Decked out in orange and even with a little face paint on. The game was going great, however, it started raining. At first it was a sprinkle but then it just started dumping on us. So there I was, in jeans and a jersey, my coat in the car, getting drenched. But did I leave the stands? NO WAY.
See, dedication as a fan means sticking through it in the good and bad. That means weather too. Not every game can be a 2:15 game with the sun shining and the temperature hovering at 70. No, no, somedays you get rain, others you might get snow, still others bring hail or just the freezing cold wind of Denver. But you stay in your seats and you take it because the players are and it’s all about solidarity right?
I should probably stop to mention that this whole fan thing is pretty easy when you’re team has the ability to go undefeated or make the play offs at least. I mean you can get really drenched for a team that is kicking their rivals butts…but what does that solidarity look like when you’re a Broncos fan and your team is … well, to be frank, a little challenged in the scoring department.
Now, I’m not saying I’m a better fan than most just because my team has had a few rough gos and I haven’t jumped ship…but … oh, wait, I might be.
Just kidding. (sort of). I will say this. As much trash I talked about a certain quarterback last night who seemed to forget that his ONE job is to get the ball over the goal line… I love all my Broncos.
And loving them means flying halfway across the country to go to their opening game. It means painting my face (only a little, a girl has her standards) and yelling really loud and high fiving everyone around me at the game. It means missing two days of class and spending an entire weekend getting about a week behind in school just for the chance to sit in my favorite seats, next to my favorite game watcher and watch my boys play live.
But loving them also means calling them out on being the kind of dumb dumbs that throw interceptions, get sacked and drop the ball from time to time. I mean, iron sharpens iron right?

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