Watch the above video (or click here) to hear the poem set to photos and video from the past season.
Katherine DeGreef may now be in Washington, D.C., but Denver and the Broncos are still in her heart. From Centennial, the 24-year-old has been a Broncos fan for as long as she can remember, she says.
Her fondest Broncos memories are going to games with her father, a season-ticket holder, cheering in snow and cold and supporting the team through the not-so-great days.
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“One year I was home from college for the Broncos vs. Patriots game when (Tim) Tebow was on his winning streak,” DeGreef remembers. “I looked up ticket prices online and my dad could easily have sold his tickets for 10 times face value. I told him I understood if he wanted to sell but he said, ‘Of course not! I wouldn’t miss that game with you for the world.’ “
Fast forward to 2016 and DeGreef is planning a Super Bowl party outside of Broncos Country for most of her D.C. friends who are not United in Orange.
“I had to find a way to convince them my Super Bowl party was going to be the best one, so I decided to write a poem for the Facebook event page,” she said.
The poem turned into a 49-line ode to the Broncos and the week before the Super Bowl set to the tune of “‘Twas the Night Before Christmas” that she called “”Twas the week before the Super Bowl” and submitted to The Denver Post.
DeGreef said it took about an hour to write the poem, then extra time afterward perfecting it. Using the original story meter and rhymes as her guide, writing it came easily.
Since sharing the poem on Facebook, friends have been coming out of the woodwork with a great response, which she says is especially meaningful for DeGreef living outside her home state of Colorado during all the Super Bowl excitement.
“It’s easy to feel removed and detached from all the excitement and energy surrounding this game, so this has really connected me back to that and gotten me pumped for next Sunday,” she said.
As for next Sunday? DeGreef is still not losing hope on trying to score herself seat at the big game. “I’m sure my friends would understand if I had to cancel my Super Bowl party.”
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‘Twas the Week Before the Super Bowl
By Katherine DeGreef
With apologies to Clement Clarke Moore (and Peyton Manning)
‘Twas the week before the Super Bowl, when all through the lands
Everyone was nervously wringing their hands.
The Broncos were polishing their trophy case with care,
In hopes that another Vince Lombardi Trophy soon would be there.
Broncos fans on the east coast all took to their sleds,
While visions of touchdowns danced in their heads.
The Panthers in their black suits and Broncos in white,
Were just gearing up for the afternoon fight.
When out on the practice field Demaryius was catching,
Newton and Olsen were seriously slacking.
Away to San Francisco they flew like a flash,
To face off in the fiftieth Super Bowl clash.
Levi’s Stadium was ready with freshly cut grass
And the weather had promised not to harass.
When what to my wondering eyes did appear,
But a team dressed in white and their orange football gear.
With a little old quarterback, so lively and cunning,
I knew in a moment it must be a Manning.
More rapid than eagles his offense they came,
And he whistled and shouted and called them by name:
“Now, Thomas! now, Hillman! now Sanders and Mathis!
On Schofield! on Daniels! on Vasquez and Harris!
To the end of the field! A touchdown’s our goal!
Now dash away! Dash away! Dash away, score!”
As dust that behind the wild stallion flies,
When it meets with a gust of wind, mounts to the skies;
So out to the field the Broncos they ran
With the defense and offense and Peyton, our man –
And then, in a twinkling, I saw in the stands
A Mile High Salute ripple throughout the fans.
As I looked around quickly to find the commotion,
Peyton was setting a play into motion.
He was dressed all in white, from his head to his toe,
With blue and orange accents to set him aglow;
A bundle of plays he had locked in his head,
And he looked like a skier about to go shred.
He was wily and wise, a revered quarterback,
But I was nervous for Denver in spite of this fact.
A wink of his eye and a twist of his head,
Soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread.
He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,
And huddled his offense; then turned with a jerk,
And laying his hands on the backs of his team,
Gave them a nod, like he’d cooked up a scheme;
He sprang to the line, to his team gave a whistle,
And he wound up and threw the ball like a missile.
But I heard him exclaim, ‘ere he drove down the line —
“Omaha, Omaha, this is our time!”
Sara Grant: 303-954-1638, sgrant@denverpost.com or @itsmesarag
