Five Decades of Me and SuperBowls...
I can't always remember where I put my Jeep keys, but I always know number of the Super Bowl being played in front of me. We're essentially the same age, the Super Bowl and me.
Fifty years old, it's time for Super Bowl 50.
And, as the old school traditionalist, I'm slightly disappointed the National Football League is skipping a year of Roman numerals to help highlight the 50th title game. Although history reminds us the first two SuperBowls were actually called, "The AFL-NFL World Championship Game" which is a tad formal.
Of course throwing around the Roman numeral "L" is something that could be confusing to the uninformed. After all, the object of the season finale is to earn a "W" --- right?
I do have some memories that date all the way back to when I was two years old, but none of them include watching the early SuperBowls. So, the year I turned three, was the first time Super Bowl was utilized to describe the third match-up between the two leagues. The older, wiser NFL was supposed to dominate the upstart AFL for the third time in a row, but a kid out of Alabama turned New York Jet, Joe Namath stunned the football world twice. Once by promising a Jet win over my then native Baltimore Colts, and then going out with his team and accomplishing one of the biggest upsets in the history of the sport.
The upset likely moved the owners of both leagues to formalize a merger, and thus one league, two conferences and some shifting of the clubs. The Colts would be the first old NFL club to represent the new AFC for Super Bowl V and capture a world title over the Dallas Cowboys.
I missed that game too. However, I spent early grade school book club dollars on books about football and I caught up pretty quick. The last Super Bowl I missed, was when I was six, and missed out on the Cowboys thumping the Miami Dolphins and Don Shula, one of my favorite all time coaches in you guessed it, in Super Bowl VI.
By the time I was seven, I was into family gatherings and events. Parts of my Maryland family moved west to Colorado. Even in 1973, the glow of the television set held substantive gravity for pulling all of the members of my family together to watch the same thing at the same time.
As little kids often do, I annoyed the adults, peppering them with all kinds of questions about what was on the television and why were we all so interested in it?
"It's the Super Bowl," my grandfather said with a certain amount of conviction.
And as young kids often do, I nodded my head in affirmation, as if I understood the wisdom imparted upon me.
"Ah, yes," I answered. "THE Super Bowl."
I became enamored with the winning team, because, well, we know how important it was. A game with the word "super" in it, had to be a big deal. Those Miami Dolphins won that defensive struggle against the Washington Redskins and then again the following year against the Minnesota Vikings.
Me and the Super Bowl were growing up together. Two things were certain. It was fun to watch, and I loved the AFC. It was the home of my home state Colts, my adopted favorite Dolphins and the local squad, a group called the Denver Broncos.
All of the 60's and the early 70's were fairly unkind to those Broncos, who couldn't seem to win, no matter what they did. As mentioned before, the highly influential grandfather figure watched the local team all the time, and noted we should integrate fully into our new community. So, I watched the Broncos lose a bunch. I had room in my heart for the lovable orange and blue, and keep a long distance eye on the Dolphins, a team that seemed to win a lot with that Shula guy at the helm.
It was around that time, I learned I didn't love all of the AFC teams equally. Teams that wore black, and ran over Broncos, Dolphins and Colts with equal veracity were the Pittsburgh Steelers and Oakland Raiders. I discovered, it was almost as fun cheering against teams we didn't like in the Super Bowl as it was pulling for our favorites.
The aforementioned Steelers dominated most of those 1970's and it got old. And when the Steelers were not dominating it seemed the Raiders would sneak in and win a couple titles themselves.
By the time middle school or junior high and high school hit, football fandom gets personal. Real in your face identity moments where one backs a team with full colors and a willingness to bet and back bold predictions or be called un-manly names. Those first years of wearing jerseys or clothing to rep the football tribe.
SuperBowls X, XI, XII, XIII, XIV and XV did not go my way, but they included some amazing moments and lasting memories. Love or hate the Steelers, a diving Lynn Swann catch stays with you. Like trying to repeat his amazing feat in the back yard or the park for years.
The local team, those Broncos, came to life in 1977 with their Orange Crush defense. This was a unique experience with me and SuperBowls. I knew these guys. These players came to our little league banquets, the allowed kids to watch practice, they signed autographs, I really knew them. They were us, and us them.
I got to go to several of the games, and the Denver crowds were insanely in love with a team that had not won a thing until that season. So, when the Crush was run over in XII, it was a unique emotional scar for a young fan. One learns it may be the Super Bowl, but the sun still rises the day after the big 'game'.
And so it went for the Broncos even after acquiring John Elway from the Colts. Yes, several family members and folks from Maryland never did appreciate Elway the way the fans here in Denver have.
As life and SuperBowls progress, I married a Broncos fan, and we were able to suffer together. Our first apartment, our first Super Bowl party hosting experience for Super Bowl XXII and the game for the Broncos was over by half-time. Same for the party. A batch of unhappy guests evaporated before dessert could be served.
Me and the Super Bowl shared several more tough days with the Broncos before my kids were old enough to enjoy back-to-back victories in XXXII and XXXIII. That wasn't a monkey on our collective backs those years, that was King Kong. I recall a number of fans here who did not want to see the Broncos go back. The heartbreak of another Super Loss would have been too much to bare.
I could have retired from Super viewing at that point, the bliss of Lombardi trophies dancing in my head, but they keep rolling these things out. Harsh reminders of how harsh SuperBowls can be happened along as recent past number XLVIII. The good guys were steamrolled by the Seattle Seahawks despite a glorious year of record setting offense that season.
And thus, my fifth decade on the planet, and look who else is 50. The Super Bowl.
Those Broncos of ours will simply not go away. Back with their 8th AFC title, they return to the International stage as underdogs once again.
The television sets are bigger, my knees make weird noises, the Colts were stolen away from Baltimore, and they have Ravens now instead. The Dolphins are the 60's Broncos and Denver just keeps finding ways to play the last game of the year. And I'm all for it. Me, my family and the Super Bowl.
Who is ready for dessert this year?
Fifty years old, it's time for Super Bowl 50.
And, as the old school traditionalist, I'm slightly disappointed the National Football League is skipping a year of Roman numerals to help highlight the 50th title game. Although history reminds us the first two SuperBowls were actually called, "The AFL-NFL World Championship Game" which is a tad formal.
Of course throwing around the Roman numeral "L" is something that could be confusing to the uninformed. After all, the object of the season finale is to earn a "W" --- right?
I do have some memories that date all the way back to when I was two years old, but none of them include watching the early SuperBowls. So, the year I turned three, was the first time Super Bowl was utilized to describe the third match-up between the two leagues. The older, wiser NFL was supposed to dominate the upstart AFL for the third time in a row, but a kid out of Alabama turned New York Jet, Joe Namath stunned the football world twice. Once by promising a Jet win over my then native Baltimore Colts, and then going out with his team and accomplishing one of the biggest upsets in the history of the sport.
The upset likely moved the owners of both leagues to formalize a merger, and thus one league, two conferences and some shifting of the clubs. The Colts would be the first old NFL club to represent the new AFC for Super Bowl V and capture a world title over the Dallas Cowboys.
I missed that game too. However, I spent early grade school book club dollars on books about football and I caught up pretty quick. The last Super Bowl I missed, was when I was six, and missed out on the Cowboys thumping the Miami Dolphins and Don Shula, one of my favorite all time coaches in you guessed it, in Super Bowl VI.
By the time I was seven, I was into family gatherings and events. Parts of my Maryland family moved west to Colorado. Even in 1973, the glow of the television set held substantive gravity for pulling all of the members of my family together to watch the same thing at the same time.
As little kids often do, I annoyed the adults, peppering them with all kinds of questions about what was on the television and why were we all so interested in it?
"It's the Super Bowl," my grandfather said with a certain amount of conviction.
And as young kids often do, I nodded my head in affirmation, as if I understood the wisdom imparted upon me.
"Ah, yes," I answered. "THE Super Bowl."
I became enamored with the winning team, because, well, we know how important it was. A game with the word "super" in it, had to be a big deal. Those Miami Dolphins won that defensive struggle against the Washington Redskins and then again the following year against the Minnesota Vikings.
Me and the Super Bowl were growing up together. Two things were certain. It was fun to watch, and I loved the AFC. It was the home of my home state Colts, my adopted favorite Dolphins and the local squad, a group called the Denver Broncos.
All of the 60's and the early 70's were fairly unkind to those Broncos, who couldn't seem to win, no matter what they did. As mentioned before, the highly influential grandfather figure watched the local team all the time, and noted we should integrate fully into our new community. So, I watched the Broncos lose a bunch. I had room in my heart for the lovable orange and blue, and keep a long distance eye on the Dolphins, a team that seemed to win a lot with that Shula guy at the helm.
It was around that time, I learned I didn't love all of the AFC teams equally. Teams that wore black, and ran over Broncos, Dolphins and Colts with equal veracity were the Pittsburgh Steelers and Oakland Raiders. I discovered, it was almost as fun cheering against teams we didn't like in the Super Bowl as it was pulling for our favorites.
The aforementioned Steelers dominated most of those 1970's and it got old. And when the Steelers were not dominating it seemed the Raiders would sneak in and win a couple titles themselves.
By the time middle school or junior high and high school hit, football fandom gets personal. Real in your face identity moments where one backs a team with full colors and a willingness to bet and back bold predictions or be called un-manly names. Those first years of wearing jerseys or clothing to rep the football tribe.
SuperBowls X, XI, XII, XIII, XIV and XV did not go my way, but they included some amazing moments and lasting memories. Love or hate the Steelers, a diving Lynn Swann catch stays with you. Like trying to repeat his amazing feat in the back yard or the park for years.
The local team, those Broncos, came to life in 1977 with their Orange Crush defense. This was a unique experience with me and SuperBowls. I knew these guys. These players came to our little league banquets, the allowed kids to watch practice, they signed autographs, I really knew them. They were us, and us them.
I got to go to several of the games, and the Denver crowds were insanely in love with a team that had not won a thing until that season. So, when the Crush was run over in XII, it was a unique emotional scar for a young fan. One learns it may be the Super Bowl, but the sun still rises the day after the big 'game'.
And so it went for the Broncos even after acquiring John Elway from the Colts. Yes, several family members and folks from Maryland never did appreciate Elway the way the fans here in Denver have.
As life and SuperBowls progress, I married a Broncos fan, and we were able to suffer together. Our first apartment, our first Super Bowl party hosting experience for Super Bowl XXII and the game for the Broncos was over by half-time. Same for the party. A batch of unhappy guests evaporated before dessert could be served.
Me and the Super Bowl shared several more tough days with the Broncos before my kids were old enough to enjoy back-to-back victories in XXXII and XXXIII. That wasn't a monkey on our collective backs those years, that was King Kong. I recall a number of fans here who did not want to see the Broncos go back. The heartbreak of another Super Loss would have been too much to bare.
I could have retired from Super viewing at that point, the bliss of Lombardi trophies dancing in my head, but they keep rolling these things out. Harsh reminders of how harsh SuperBowls can be happened along as recent past number XLVIII. The good guys were steamrolled by the Seattle Seahawks despite a glorious year of record setting offense that season.
And thus, my fifth decade on the planet, and look who else is 50. The Super Bowl.
Those Broncos of ours will simply not go away. Back with their 8th AFC title, they return to the International stage as underdogs once again.
The television sets are bigger, my knees make weird noises, the Colts were stolen away from Baltimore, and they have Ravens now instead. The Dolphins are the 60's Broncos and Denver just keeps finding ways to play the last game of the year. And I'm all for it. Me, my family and the Super Bowl.
Who is ready for dessert this year?
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