Super inspiration from Super Bowl

For me the week preceding Super Bowl 50 was like climbing a 14,000- foot peak. I had butterflies in my stomach. The Denver Post ran headlines about what a threat the Carolina Panthers were, and how scary quarterback Cam Newton was. I bought it; I felt it; I cared.

I didn’t want the Denver Broncos to lose, but I feared they would. Peyton Manning would be the oldest quarterback ever to play in the Super Bowl. He had been down for six games with plantar fasciitis. How could he beat Cam Newton, a healthy, vibrant and confident young quarterback? I thought of David and Goliath. Maybe it was possible the Broncos could win.

Peyton Manning vs. Cam Newton also brought up an image in my mind of Rocky vs. Apollo Creed, except in this image Rocky limped and used a walker. The hype before the Super Bowl annoyed me. I turned the TV off again and again for interviews of players, photos of fans in North Carolina, and all the adjacent hype to sell ads. It seemed the world had come to a standstill to focus on Super Bowl 50.

My mother and father would have loved it if they were still alive. They were die-hard fans from the beginning of the Broncos franchise with season tickets to the Broncos games. We watched Denver Broncos games from the 40-yard line at the lowest level at Mile High Stadium.

I still remember running back Floyd Little racing in for a touchdown –; so much heart. I remember Gary Kubiak playing quarterback, Wade Phillips coaching the team, Pat Bowlen in his long fur coat and quarterback John Elway performing superhuman feats to win two Super Bowls.

But no game I witnessed was as exciting as Super Bowl 50. My husband and I could have stayed home and watched on our television, but instead we drove to Longmont to my daughter’s house for a Super Bowl party with family and friends. If the Broncos lost we could all suffer together. Or if by chance they won, we could celebrate together. Safety in numbers!

I knew some highly vocal 30-something fans wearing Denver Broncos jerseys would be there. Superstitious, I wore the same orange hoodie I had worn during the Broncos win against the Patriots two weeks before.

In Longmont, the house packed with bodies and food, I tasted chicken wings and orange and blue cookies. The game started. Within moments, I found myself jumping up and high-fiving the jersey-wearing guys and screaming when the Broncos made a touchdown.

I got hoarse. The Denver Broncos climbed ahead and stayed there. I think I felt more emotion than ever for the Denver Broncos because of Pat Bowlen having Alzheimer’s, and not being able to attend. The sight of Annabel Bowlen by herself woke up my empathy.

And though I didn’t warm up to Peyton Manning at first when he was hired, by the time of Super Bowl 50 I really did like him and care about him. I could see how he was inspiring the team, what a leader he was, and what good sportsmanship he exhibited. Peyton’s age and injuries revealed his vulnerability. I connected with him because I feel the vulnerability of age and injuries myself.

The Broncos defense rose to the occasion of Super Bowl 50 with strength and almost superhuman purpose. As the Broncos surged ahead of the Carolina Panthers, I felt passion, alive. I had a glimpse of the summit of a 14,000-foot peak and the terrific exhaustion that goes with climbing it. Down to the last 10 minutes or so, the lightning strike of an opposing team suddenly taking over the momentum of the game and winning didn’t happen, but for me the uncertainty created so much excitement when the Broncos won.

What inspired me the most was the Broncos defense playing their hearts out for Peyton Manning and Pat Bowlen. I felt inspired by their sense of purpose. I also felt inspired by the fans. I was one of them.

Super Bowl 50 had more love in it than any game I’ve ever witnessed. The Broncos won. Tears came to my eyes. Tears of joy. The Broncos had summited a terrific peak.

And in the intense moment I felt the aliveness of all my family and friends still living. I also felt the presence of my mother and father, most likely cheering in heaven.

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