Stand ye in holy places.
Please don't be shocked. What's sacred to you and what's sacred to me will probably dovetail at some relatively obvious points...you may not agree, you may not understand, but please don't fear what you don't understand. Accept that I feel this way about a professional sports team and all affiliated with it...things will be easier.
I scored a killer Groupon for a tour of Sports Authority Field at Mile High Stadium along with an on-field family photo against the scoreboard...like I was gonna say no to that? I didn't. So the youngest three and I met Matt and Eve on their way back home from a meet north of Greeley (is there anything north of Greeley?) at the halfway mark...bliss and joy, all around. The photo above is what every visiting player sees upon leaving their locker room, a subtle reminder to reach for their benchside oxygen masks whenever possible.
Stadium catering rocks. And we found that we could use the Quarterback Club's VIP lounge to host any number of events: wedding receptions, proms...I am all aflame with the possibilities. Possibilities open to us only if we were to rob several banks, but possibilities, nonetheless.
The visiting team's locker room...we penned ourselves in as an opponent. It was voted the best visiting team facility in the NFL by the players. You gotta keep up appearances, because you never know when an extremely gifted free agent will be shopping for a new home. Ahem.
That goal post-thingie, there? That's where Matt Prater used to be relied upon to ensure wins for the Broncos squad, back when our quarterback was darling and sweet and somewhat unsteady in the passing department and could only be counted upon to secure a tie, if that. That seems so long ago, and on such a distant planet, I have trouble recollecting it. Which is why, of course, it's so handy to keep a blog.
Goodies.
What we paid for, largely, was the stadium experience. But what would the NFL be without it, the mass marketing and creation of epic environments? This isn't the Mile High of my childhood; it was Elway's playground while I was living in other environs, and have never attended a game here, to date. But with this gorgeously adept squad, led by the ever-intrepid Peyton Manning, the city is all aflame with anticipation: we could go very, very far. Squeal! So very, very far! Giddiness!
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