Broncos cornerback Champ Bailey knows what people think: He’s washed up. Old. Broken down. A step slow. A 12-time Pro Bowler reduced to a defensive liability.
“I’ve listened to the radio. I’ve read the newspaper. And I’ve heard all these things: ‘He’s done. He’s lost a step. Yada, yada, yada,’ ” Bailey told me Thursday. “It’s funny. Because those people don’t know me, they don’t understand me, and they don’t know what it takes to play in the NFL. So I took it all in stride. But it’s all motivation. I used every little thing I heard as motivation. Did I ever think I was done? Hell, no.”
For 14 NFL seasons, Bailey was the league’s premier shut-down corner. He threw a blanket on the best receivers in football with the flair of a matador, and made his artistry look effortless.
Then something funny happened to Bailey this year. The bull got Champ. His body betrayed him. And it hurt.
Check that. For Bailey, his 15th NFL season hasn’t been the least bit funny.
“I’m not going to cry about it. It was bad. But I feel good now, and I’m ready to go,” Bailey said. “A lot of my motivation for getting back to playing had nothing to do with anybody around me. It was just me. It’s just the way I am. You’re not going to tell me I can’t do something.”
At age 35, Bailey got torched deep by Father Time. During the team’s second game of the preseason, the turf in Seattle bit Bailey in the foot. It was a Lisfranc sprain, which causes pain in the arch with every step a man takes. It’s an injury that has been cursed for centuries, all the way back to a time when calvary men in Napoleon’s army suffered the curse of Lisfranc, the prescribed remedy was amputation.
“I had a million thoughts go through my head with this injury. And I’ve never had to deal with something like this. This was definitely my toughest challenge of my career. I wanted to see if I could overcome it,” Bailey said.
In the most obvious of ways, this is the worst football season in Bailey’s brilliant NFL career. He couldn’t get on the field. In 16 regular-season games, Bailey made only 14 tackles. Reduced to a footnote on Denver’s 13-3 record, he lost his starting job at outside cornerback, a position built on equal parts swagger and skill.
In a more subtle way, however, this season reveals why Canton, Ohio, eagerly awaits the honor of swinging wide the front door to welcome Bailey’s entrance into the Pro Football Hall of Fame.
From fighting the betrayal of an aching body to suffering the indignity of standing on the sideline in his uniform at Kansas City as the Denver defense hung on for a 35-28 victory against the Chiefs, there were ample reasons for Bailey to cry tears of self-pity. But the best defensive player in franchise history refused to let any of us see him sweat.
The grace with which Bailey has stared down his athletic mortality is the very definition of mental toughness and a testament to his professionalism.
“It hasn’t been easy,” Bailey said. “I was ticked. I was frustrated. But I live with it. So I’m going to make the best of it.”
When San Diego beat Denver 27-20 on Dec. 12, Bailey didn’t play a down. But, to the credit of the coaches and the veteran cornerback, the Broncos have figured out a way to do right by Bailey and improve the team’s maligned defense at the same time.
Bailey has moved inside to nickel back, reducing the number of snaps he plays in a game, while leaving the task of running stride for stride with receivers on the outside to Chris Harris Jr. and Dominique Rodgers-Cromartie in a Denver secondary that extensively employs man-to-man coverage.
“I’ve always been a mainstay out there on the field, but it’s not like that now. I accept it,” Bailey said. “I’m not going to sit here and predict what’s going to happen next year. But I expect to start every year.”
Early in 2011, shortly after John Elway returned to the Broncos as vice president of football operations, Bailey could have left the team. He decided to stay. Loyalty in pro sport? It’s rare. But it still exists.
“I could have run out of here. I was a free agent,” Bailey said. “But I wanted to be here in Denver. And Elway wanted me to be here. I wanted to be a part of what Elway started with this team. I didn’t see this guy touching anything and being a loser. He hasn’t lost in football.”
At age 35, Bailey knows the end to his career is inevitable. But he’s not done yet. Far from it.
For starters, there’s a Super Bowl to win.
Mark Kiszla: mkiszla@denverpost.com or twitter.com/markkiszla
