My son Tyler moved to Denver in 2014 just before the NFL season began. Because of that, he owns a Broncos jersey with the name “OSWEILER” sprawled across the shoulders. He bought it after the Broncos, with Brock at the helm, beat Tom Brady and the Patriots in OT, in a snowstorm. Then Peyton Manning returned from injury, the Broncos went on to win the Super Bowl, and Osweiler was shown the door.
Since then, Taylor Swift has scored more points at Mile High than our wild horsemen of the apocalypse.
Quarterback Russell Wilson is the team’s fall guy. Denver traded for him before the 2022 season, in exchange for a ransom of draft picks and a $245 million contract. And, oops, he turned out to be terrible. He was cut loose at the end of the last season, and the team is in disarray.
Never mind that. All eyes are on Ball Arena, where sports gods skate the ice and stride the floorboards. The Colorado Avalanche offers daily bread; the Denver Nuggets are the high-flying circus. Are we not entertained? And distracted?
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On a recent evening, I watched the Nuggets dismantle the consensus No. 1 team in the NBA — the Celtics — and sweep the season series. See you in the finals, baby! Another night, I saw the Avalanche take down its rivals — the Edmonton Oilers — on a tip-in goal with half a second left in overtime. No, I don’t know where Edmonton is, exactly. But I hate that city and every one of its fans. We are the champions!
As I celebrated that victory, I joined a million of my Avs-loving brothers and sisters as, together, we won that “important” game. Just like we beat the Celtics. You could ask, “What do you mean ‘we'? And in what sense were those games important? Gaza-bombardment important? Capitol-invasion important? Hardly. And that’s the charm: Sports is a trivial pursuit where I nonetheless invest excessive energy — reading game accounts, devouring trend stories, scheming — to watch the games while Comcast and Altitude Sports fight over broadcast rights. With all that to think about, how can I focus on newly arrived immigrants struggling in our cities? Or Lauren Boebert’s family life?
It’s impossible, thank goodness.
On some level, when the Nuggets and Avs win—I did that! We human beings relate through mirror neurons in our brains. When we see someone experiencing pain, or victory, our neurons light up in synchronicity. So as I watched Artturi Lehkonen tip that puck into the net, I felt the click of hockey puck and blade, the joy of scoring, and the group hug that followed. Merely because I was watching. Mirror neurons, for the win!
And I haven’t even mentioned the anti-Russell Wilson in our midst right now: Nikola Jokić. My mirror neurons have been on a joyride ever since the lockdown NBA playoffs of 2021, when the current Nuggets advanced to the Western Conference finals, led by Jokić. His stat sheets are so full of inflated, crooked numbers he could work as an accountant for Donald Trump.
But there are more reasons to love the man they call “The Big Honey.” He ties his wedding ring onto his sneakers before each game. Moments after winning the Nuggets’ first NBA title, the Finals MVP told a waiting world that the first thing he wanted to do was…just go home. These tiresome playoffs went on forever! Nikola finally did attend the victory parade, holding his daughter Ognjena, and all of us, in his protective arms. Repeat after me: Awwwwwwww!
Meanwhile, Russell Wilson has been banished to Pittsburgh of all places. Out of sight, out of Mile High. And yet, his example is important as well. Most of us will experience more failure than success in life. We’ll be lucky if our personal win-loss records nose above .500.
So let me give you a hug of forgiveness on the way out of town, Russell. You’re a big disappointment, just like me on most days. And I love you for it. Now don’t let the door slam you in the butt. The NBA and NHL playoffs are coming soon!
Peter Moore is a writer and illustrator who lives in Fort Collins. You can hear, and see, more of his work at kunc.org.
