Knowing the end result makes all the difference.
When I was a kid in Denver, we had mass in our house each Sunday. We weren’t Catholic. My family massed around the television to drink the Orange Crush-flavored Kool-Aid of the early 1980’s Denver Broncos. As they fought for every inch of football glory, we took it seriously. If you happened to be the one to walk in the room and the Broncos fumbled or threw an interception, you were asked (not politely) to leave the room until something good happened. After many cold winters of missing the playoffs, something great happened.
John Elway became a Bronco.
Soon, we witnessed victories snatched out of the hands of opponents by our new rifle-armed Houdini and the playoffs became a regular occurrence. And although my family moved to the land of Cowboys, our Bronco loyalty stood firm as we waited for them to reach the Super Bowl. Continue Reading…