Coming in From the Cold

It's been years since I've had a professional sports team. In fact, 19 years. Settling down to watch my beloved Broncos, an excited (and only slightly balding) 7-year old Zach thrilled as Elway & Co. went up 10 nothing. I think we all know what happened then.

In the years that followed, like a girl with a gropey step-father, I had a series of torrid flings with whatever team seemed coolest at the time. My time with Young's 49ers and Brady's Patriots was fun while it lasted, but ultimately unrewarding.

However, despite my troubled youth there are things I just won't do. Watching the 2007 season opener, I found myself thinking, "Maybe Peyton Manning isn't so bad. The Colts look awesome this year." Then, like a drunk girl watching the second (and third, and fourth) frat guy enter the darkened room, I asked myself "What am I doing with my life?" I had my bandwagoneer moment of clarity, put back on my metaphoric shirt, and stepped back from the brink. This isn't how I want to live my life.

And so, it is with great pleasure that I re-dedicate myself to the Denver Broncos. To cut-blocking, thin air, and the fantasy football chaos of platooned running backs. To the inevitable shakiness of Jay Cutler, the dreaded corny commentator banter about the altitude, and, just as surely, occasional dissappointment.

I just wish John could have seen this.

-Comments as to what replica jersey I should order are welcome.