Today is Monday. Yesterday, I went to a home game at Mile High Stadium to watch the Denver Broncos beat the San Diego Chargers with Randy, Dad and Kevin (Christina’s bro). I’d never been to the new stadium, and to only 1 other Broncos game, so the experience was pretty exciting for this little country mouse.
I’ve wanted to go to a game with Dad and Ran since before I left for Israel. So many things have happened to each of us that it seemed like we wouldn’t ever get to do something like that again. Randy was in jail for most of these past years, and he has consistently said he wanted to move to MO as soon as he was free. So, it sorta seemed like the 3 of us would never hang out again. I know that’s dramatic, but when tough times come, things seem more dramatic than they probably are.
It’s funny how important the Denver Broncos have become to me over the years. What a stupid thing to care about. And while I don’t really care about the team, per se, I’ve found that their existence has given me the priceless ability to relate to my dad and brother in ways that I never seemed able to otherwise. I love the Broncos because for so many years, they have really meant family to me. And for me, who was raised by my single mom, the Broncos specifically mean “men” family…something I didn’t have for much of my childhood. So, for as dorky as it is, a professional football team has allowed me to relate to relate to the men in my family – and this is precious to me.
Plus, they won. Always cool.