My Confession
A new era for those that bleed Orange.
I’m still a Broncos Fan.
There. I said it.
I think Bowlen might be going off his rocker. I think McDaniels is already on thin ice. I think Marshall’s an idiot, but I hate to see him leave. I think Cutler was a baby, but I hate to see him leave. I’ve questioned far more decisions than I’ve applauded in recent months, and yet, the fact remains. I’m a fan. I can’t help it. I’m really learning right now what it means to bleed orange. I’m already looking at the jerseys in the closet with longing. Fireworks haven’t even hit the air for July 4th, and already I’m salivating for the sounds of gridiron action on a Sunday afternoon.
And when the Broncos take the field, captained by Kyle Orton and a bunch of guys I’ve never heard of, I’ll be paying rapt attention, hoping for the boys in orange (but mostly blue) will secure another victory for this once glorious franchise.
I’m a Broncos fan. I can’t help it. (God save me.)
