On the couch: I’m a believer | AspenTimes.com

On the couch: I’m a believer

Stewart Oksenhorn
The Aspen Times
Aspen, CO, Colorado

ASPEN – On the lift Sunday morning, I asked my chairmate about the Broncos: Were they playing today? When? Against whom?

Some might take this as a sign of extreme ignorance: Of course the Broncos were playing – late afternoon, hosting the Bears, division lead on the line – and they were the biggest news in sports, piling one impossible comeback win on top of another. But this wasn’t a total lack of awareness on my part. I know about Tebowmania. But my passion for the Nuggets and the NBA is all-consuming (yes, despite the lockout) and leaves little room to follow other sports.

Now that I knew when Little Lord Timmy would be working his latest miracle, I didn’t expect to do anything about it. My day was focused on hiking Highland Bowl and then getting home in time to drive my daughter to the next event on her busy calendar.

I schlep my daughter up to a home in Starwood, and the Broncos are nowhere in my consciousness. I’m wondering how I’m going to pass the time before I have to pick Olivia back up. But the hostess tells me I’m welcome to lounge at their house, and I find myself in the kitchen, talking about music and potato latkes, snacks on the table. I can happily pass the hour or two this way.

But then the man of the house arrives with an invitation to relocate to the den for some football on TV. In my world, it’s hard for a straight 48-year-old guy to say, “Thanks, but I’m good hanging with the ladies in here.” Besides, I’m anxious for the Tebowmania bubble to burst, and my timing looks good: Deep in the fourth quarter, Broncos down 10-zip, Tebow’s done nothing all day. I tell my host if they pull this one off, I’m a convert.

A few burning bushes and parting seas later, Tebow (and his disciple, kicker Matt Prater) had raised the Broncos from the dead for the sixth time in eight games. And I’m a true believer, able to brush aside questions like why Tebow is so inept for the first three-plus quarters of each game. (“The Lord works in mysterious ways,” a friend says, and that’s good enough for me.)

I may not be able to tell you everything Broncos. Couldn’t tell the prognosis on Von Miller’s thumb or how they match up against the Steelers.

But this much I know: this Sunday, 2:15 p.m., Patriots. Couldn’t get it off my radar if I tried.


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