Tis the season of hope … I hope. I wrote last week about the season of giving. Today, I’m all about hope. Hope for redemption, hope for the future, and, yes, hope for the Denver Broncos. The …
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Tis the season of hope … I hope.
I wrote last week about the season of giving. Today, I’m all about hope. Hope for redemption, hope for the future, and, yes, hope for the Denver Broncos. The recent loss to San Francisco, however, has left me dejected – though I realize it’s about more than just football.
Before this year, I’ve always been a believer. I was a (young) fan of Charley Johnson, a Ph.D., by the way. I remember exactly where I was when I heard that Denver had acquired John Elway. I suffered long and hard – as many of did – through those early Super Bowls. In fact, even after a bad snap to Peyton Manning in the end zone on our first possession of the Super Bowl in 2014 resulted in a safety, my disbelief took until after halftime to set in.
And never once did I fail to believe that Denver would win Super Bowl 50, from the first pre-season snap to the victory confetti. True, the post-Peyton era has been tough, but each season I never really stopped believing in miracles.
That why this year my malaise – rancor, really –is so perplexing. I’ve always subscribed to the “any given Sunday” mantra, but this year I do give up, usually several times a game. I simply am not a believer.
And I have to ask myself why. We’ve had passing/catching issues in the past. We’ve suffered staggering injuries. We’ve had questionable calls from the sidelines before. The guys in stripes are inconsistent (watch the replays), but I have to assume they’re doing their best.
So, what’s going on? After Sunday’s loss to 2-10 San Francisco – and even after our previous three-game winning streak – it has occurred to me that I no longer hope, much less believe, that the good guys will win … in this case, my beloved orange and blue.
But it’s more than that. I no longer hope that people listen with open minds and open hearts. I no longer believe that truth will out and good will prevail. Or that the bad guys will be held accountable, and that wrongs will be righted. The state of the world – from Charlottesville to Yemen – overwhelms me on a daily basis.
So, Philip, Courtland and Bradley, Case, Chris, Shelby and the rest of you whom I love so dearly, please know that when I scream at you on the screen, send in plays you’ll never receive, second (and third and fourth) guess the coach, and howl at the refs, it’s not about you.
It’s about my fear that how I feel about the Broncos this year is an extension of the rest of my cynicism … that the desperation of my everyday outlook spills onto Sunday afternoons.
The holidays this year are overshadowed by the 11 months that have preceded them. The chaos, the lies and the inhumanity – from whichever sideline you cheer – are deeply disheartening. I look to January 2019 to bring, as all new years do, opportunities for change, for understanding, for kindness.
This is the season of hope, of redemption and new beginnings, of faith in the future. And the Broncos, for now, are still in the playoff race.
Andrea Doray is a writer who does believe in puppies, holiday parties, and packages marked “From Santa.” Contact Andrea at firstname.lastname@example.org.
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