My 9-year-old "All Star" little Leaguer and I were playing catch out in the back yard when he asked me:

"Hey Dad, how come we always go to Rockies Spring Training and the Rockies games, but we never go to the Broncos games?"

"Well, I replied How about I get you and Mom tickets for the game next

Sunday?"

"Sure Dad, but don’t you want to go?"

"I’ll be traveling up in Wyoming until Saturday and I’ll want to rest upon Sunday, so I’ll just watch the game on T.V."

    I contacted one of the ticket sellers that afternoon and ordered two tickets for the Broncos game the following Sunday. The tickets were pretty pricey, but I felt they were worth the fifty bucks each. Third row, Fifty-yard line, directly behind the Broncos bench. His first Bronco’s game should be special and unforgettable, something he could talk about for years to come.

    As expensive as the tickets cost I figured I’d probably come out slightly ahead of one of our frequent Rockies games. My youngest son was a huge Rockies fan and could name every player on the team by name, position, and uniform number backwards and forward. This was the era of The Blake Street Bombers, Andres, Dante, Ellis, Larry, and Vinnie. Every Rockies game we attended would cost me an additional 40 to 50 bucks for souvenirs. He collected every baseball, jersey, photo, baseball card, or pin with any reference to a Blake Street Bomber.

    His favorite player was Ellis Burks; because Ellis had given him one of his slightly cracked baseball bats one Spring Training. Andres "The Big Cat" was his favorite before Ellis gave him the bat and got him featured on CNN. Ellis’ bat was prominently featured in my son’s baseball shrine, which now encompassed three of the walls in his room. The fourth wall was for basketball, football, hockey, and all the other sports.

    Sunday morning on the day of the game I handed him his ticket and thirty dollars to buy souvenirs and stuff. He was absolutely delighted and enthused about seeing his very first real live Broncos game. His older brother was a big John Elway fan and he was looking forward to seeing him play. The expense of the tickets was rapidly fading away as I waved goodbye to his Mom and him from the driveway. He had a huge grin on his face and I was happy I’d been able to provide some good memories for another one of my children.

    While I was watching the game on T.V. every time the Broncos made a great play I’d be wondering what my son’s reaction would be. The Broncos won the game and I expected to see my wife and son home in about an hour. I couldn’t wait to see and hear his excitement when he returned home and described the game to me.

    When I heard the garage door opening I knew within moments my youngest son would come bounding into the Living Room and start raving about how great it was that the Broncos would be going to the playoffs and how much he enjoyed the game.

My son had the saddest expression on his face as he slowly walked over to me. He said:

"Here’s your thirty dollars, Dad." as he offered me the money.

"You didn’t buy any souvenirs?" I was incredulous.

"No."

"What happened?" Something was really wrong.

"Well, Dad, It was about 30 minutes before the game and I saw John Elway walking around the bench and I hollered out to him "Hey John, Hey John" and he walked over to me and I asked him for his autograph and he said:

"Twenty Bucks."

"Well, I started to give him twenty bucks, because I had thirty, but then I got to thinking that I never had to pay for any Rockies Autographs so I told him no."

    The Broncos played the Jacksonville Jaguars in the playoffs and much to his Mother’s dismay my son rooted for Jacksonville the whole game. Jacksonville won and my youngest son was absolutely delighted.

    My youngest son and I went to Rockies Spring Training the next year and we had a great time. He met and collected 24 Rockies autographs. With the help of a very thankful waiter during our last evening in town we received and autograph from Larry Walker. Walker is pure class, but his autograph is one of the most difficult to get.

While my son was showing me his Rockies Autographs he commented:

"Gee, Dad if the Rockies Players were like John Elway these autographs would have cost me two hundred and forty dollars."

    The following season the Broncos played the Green Bay Packers in the Super Bowl. My youngest wore his Brett Farve Jersey and insisted that we watch the game in downtown Denver at The Rock Bottom Brewery where he, his brother, his sister and I had played pool in the past.

    Needless to say he was the ONLY one wearing "The Green" in a sea of Bronco Orange. I admired his spunk, spirit, and tenacity to his beliefs as he was unmercifully heckled by less than sober twenty year olds who justified their existence by picking on a ten year old kid. After the Broncos won the game I begged him to let me cover up his Brett Farve Jersey so I could get him out of The Rock Bottom and out of downtown Denver in one piece. Reluctantly he allowed me to cover up his jersey and we pretty much made it to our parked car without any major incidents.

    Personally, I feel the Football Hall of Fame should be reserved for those players who display talent, good character, and class. To paraphrase Marlon Brando, John Elway is a gob of spit, a glob of fleem, a pile of dog shit. There are several things we are unable to pick up with a "Pooper Scooper" and John Elway is one of them.