The thundering herd must be heard Sunday afternoon.
The Broncos don’t have a 12th man, or The Barrel Man, anymore.
Mile High Stadium once was the most hostile, intimidating milieu in pro football because of altitude and attitude, but the anodyne replacement is a hospitable, docile domicile.
That’s why Philip Rivers and the San Diego Chargers look forward to playing in Denver on Sunday. With Rivers at quarterback, the Chargers won six of eight games in Denver, and were Hochuli’ed out of another, at the Happiest Place on Turf.
In bygone years, Hank Stram ordered an onside kick to keep his Chiefs from the rabble in the South Stands. John Madden told me that he loathed bringing his Raiders here. An Oakland offensive lineman waded into hoi polloi after being pelted by snowballs. Opponents dreaded listening to 75,000 screeching voices and 150,000 stomping feet. They couldn’t hear their quarterbacks call audibles, or hear themselves think.
While discussing noisy stadiums last September, New England coach Bill Belichick cited old Mile High. “The seats were aluminum and fans would beat on those, and it was like 60,000 sets of cymbals going off at the same time. Literally, the whole stadium was sort of reverberating.”
Denver was the NFL’s No. 1 Loud Crowd — embodied for 30 years by the late Tim McKernan, whom I affectionately dubbed in a column “The Barrel Man,” because he roamed the stadium, leading cheers and chants with a megaphone, and wearing only a cowboy hat, suspenders and a large cylindrical orange container.
The Broncos had the most boisterous fans and the most successful home winning percentage from 1977-98. There was a correlation. They were an amazing 11-2 at Mile High Stadium in the postseason during that span. Since moving to the star-trek edifice with the corporate appellation, the Broncos are 2-2 in home playoff games, including the loss to Baltimore a year ago.
The Chargers won here Dec. 12, when the Broncos were lethargic and their followers were complacent. The San Diegans have good reason to be confident they can repeat.
Broncos fans assert they are still the best in the land, but the true roar is gone. They’re not even in a league with fanatics in Seattle, Indianapolis, New Orleans and New England.
Despite possessing a team with the most regular-season victories (26) in the NFL over the past two seasons, the most valuable player in the game and the most extraordinary passing offense in the history of the league, Broncoids, like broccoli, are nothing special.
Don’t believe me. Awhile back, Sports Illustrated received responses from 321 NFL players ranking the toughest stadium on the road. Denver’s was not listed among the top 15. In a similar debate, an ESPN.com panel rated Denver at 12.
The Chiefs set the Guinness world record for loudest stadium crowd noise in October. The Seahawks broke it in December.
Broncos “fans” couldn’t remove the nachos or beer from their mouths long enough to challenge that decibel mark. The luxury-suite sweets behind closed windows are busy chewing on roast beef and their stock portfolios. If the temperature is a bit nippy, fair-weather club-level ticket holders scramble inside to bars, buffets and big screens while field-level seat huggers mug for the cameras. Cheerleaders dance and prance.
The South Stands, the shrilling sounds and the shaking stadium are distant memories.
I’ve just watched the tape of the Broncos-Chargers game again. People had to be coerced by the scoreboard and players waving their arms to stand and shout, and to remain quiet (as Peyton Manning changed a play and hollered “Omaha”).
The fans didn’t help Peyton’s plan, or hurt Philip’s progress. The attitude at the stadium has been transformed from bellow to mellow. Perhaps the stadium should be called “The Joint.”
You people in Our Dusty Cowtown seem so scared that the Broncos will lose. Rivers got your tongue?
If the Broncos are to have a real chance to win two home playoff games for the fifth time in history, but the first time at this stadium, and reach the Super Bowl for the seventh time, but the first time in 15 years, they need, and deserve, that thunderous, old-time religion kind of fiery-furnace feeling from the orange masses.
Get Up! Giddyup! Barrel Man Up!
Woody Paige: woody@woodypaige.com or twitter.com/woodypaige
