First Crushes Never End Well

The Cowboys are in town practicing with the Broncos in advance of the teams' preseason game on Saturday. I've got some pretty good Broncos-Cowboys memories -- Terrell Davis' two long first-half touchdown runs in 1998 and Denver's overtime win on Thanksgiving in 2005 come to mind. Like many, my first Denver-Dallas memory is from 1978.

I was in third grade, and like I've said before I was actually a Cowboys fan as a kid. So were most of my buddies. The only thing we loved almost as much as America's Team was our third grade teacher, Mrs. Sheehan.

Once the Super Bowl opponents were set we asked Mrs. Sheehan if she was a Cowboys fan. She assured us she was, and that just made us love her that much more.

Then just a few days before the big game we came back into the classroom from lunch or recess and saw something on Mrs. Sheehan's desk that made us freeze in our tracks -- a bottle of Orange Crush.

You've never seen a more crestfallen bunch of third grade boys in your life. How could Mrs. Sheehan betray us like that? Of course she probably had absolutely no idea, but to us drinking Orange Crush before the Super Bowl was tantamount to sleeping with the enemy.

I don't remember if we ever confronted her about it, but it didn't really matter. The damage had been done. Innocence was lost.

Not as much will be on the line for the two teams Saturday -- a few roster spots is about all. But I'll bet there are third-grade boys in Denver and Dallas who care just as much about the outcome as we did more than 30 years ago.

I hope they're not "crushed" if their team comes up short.

I Think The Pregame Brunch Had Some Guys Called "The Tumbling Rocks"

I read tonight that Earth, Wind & Fire is playing Red Rocks this September. That made me think of the moment when I realized how different working in the NFL was from any other job I'd ever had.

January 1998. Pat Bowlen was incredibly generous and paid to fly every team employee and a guest out to San Diego for Super Bowl XXXII, and Danelle and I were having a great time going to various events.

One night the NFL took over Sea World for a private party. Learning that was impressive, but not "the moment" -- I'd been to Six Flags Over Texas for something similar before through a conference Danelle's brother attended, so I already knew theme parks did that sort of stuff for organizations with deep pockets. Pretty clever alternate revenue stream, actually.

"The moment" came while we were waiting in a buffet line inside a ginormous hospitality tent. There was a band playing, and I commented to Danelle that they were doing a really good cover of "Boogie Wonderland."

We asked the 20-something server behind the table who the band was, and she mumbled disinterestedly, "I dunno. Dirt, Water & Air or something."

Yep, it was Earth, Wind & Fire. Just sort of playing in the background while people hit the carving station.

I don't know why that surprised me so much, but it did. It just never occurred to me that the National Football League simply doesn't DO cover bands. From that moment on, I understood that I was quite literally operating in a different league than I'd been used to.

I might just go catch Philip Bailey and the boys again in a couple of months, if I can confirm the presence of a pasta bar.

I Prefer to Think of Him as the Guy Who Was Good to a Child

So apparently former Bronco Mike Anderson has been suspended from the NFL for at least a year for a repeat violation of the league's substance abuse policy. It's unfortunate for a guy who had such a great story -- plays drums in his high school marching band, doesn't start playing football until after he joins the Marines, sets school records at the University of Utah, gets drafted in the sixth round of the 2000 draft by the Broncos, then goes on to win Offensive Rookie of the Year.

The guy was a tremendous team player while he was in Denver, willing to do whatever was asked of him on the field. Sadly, he was suspended for four games in 2003 for substance abuse issues and now he seems to have succumbed to drug problems again. He was already without a team since the Ravens released him in February, and at the age of 34 his NFL career is likely over.

I remember escorting a VIP group of corporate sponsors at training camp in 2001. There was one kid in the group who was very excited to get player autographs on a football he'd brought, and got several as the players headed to the locker room after practice was over.

I then took the group to eat in the lunch room where the players also ate. The rule in the lunch room was no autographs, which I explained to the kid and his dad. Lunch was supposed to be a time for the players to relax.

We sat right next to the tray return, and as we were eating Mike Anderson walked by. After he'd returned his tray he noticed the kid with his football, and asked with a smile if the kid would like an autograph.

Before the kid could respond I hastily thanked Mike, told him we appreciated the offer but that we knew the rules in the lunch room. Some folks in Football Operations were very touchy about that stuff, and I didn't want there to be any misunderstanding about how it all had come down and the kid or me getting into any trouble.

But Mike insisted. Even reached into his bag and pulled out his own Sharpie to sign the ball with.

The kid was smiling from ear to ear as he handed Mike his ball, which Mike signed and handed back to him. As the kid looked at Mike's autograph, though, his smile faded. He looked up at Mike and asked, "Do you know where Terrell Davis is?"

This could have easily gone south from here, but Mike just laughed and said he wasn't sure -- thought maybe Terrell was getting some treatment and would be in for lunch later. He waved and went on his way and we finished up our lunch.

I think the kid's dad was mortified. I was just grateful that Mike didn't make an issue of it. I'd seen other players go bananas over lesser slights. It impressed me that he was able to succeed in maintaining his humility when so many athletes struggle to do so. Too bad that he doesn't appear to have been able to avoid another common pitfall of professional athletes.

Best wishes getting clean and staying clean and in whatever else the future holds for you, Mike. Hopefully there's at least one kid and one dad out there who appreciate the time you took to make a visit to training camp even more special.

Stones and Turnips Need Not Apply

Time for a brief public service announcement.

I donated blood this afternoon, and I encourage everyone to do the same. It's an easy way to do something good, since it doesn't require you to do anything but lie down and let somebody stick you with a needle.

You can't catch any diseases from donating or bleed to death if the technician is clumsy or anything like that. And if needles make you queasy, just look away when they stick you. The whole process takes less than an hour, they give you free snacks and drinks when you're done and you can do it every eight weeks.

My blood type is O negative which makes me what they call the "universal donor." In a pinch, anybody can take O negative blood. Danelle is AB positive, also known as the "universal taker." Draw your own conclusions (just kidding, honey).

Whenever I go to donate, there's a little orange note on my chart that says "Baby Unit." That means my blood is also safe to give to newborns. Needless to say, I regularly get called as soon as I'm eligible to donate again to schedule my next appointment.

I started donating back in college. One day for whatever reason I skipped breakfast, skipped lunch then went to donate in the early afternoon. I finished up and headed to what they call the "canteen" to get a free cup of juice and slice of pizza.

The next thing I know, I'm flat on my back looking up at some guy slapping me in the face and saying, "Bob? Bob?" I replied groggily, "My name is Steve." He said, "You passed out and we couldn't find your ID, so I just picked a name."

They put me on a cot, I called Danelle to come get me and spent the rest of the day wiped out in her apartment. She obviously eventually married me more for my giving nature than my common sense. Take my advice -- when you go to donate follow their instructions to drink plenty of water and eat a good meal beforehand.

The good folks of Bonfils Blood Center do a great job here in Denver. I was fortunate to be a part of their annual Drive for Life with the Denver Broncos for 10 years. It's become the state's largest single-day blood drive, bringing out nearly 20,000 donors since its inception in 1998.

The Broncos organization really gets behind it -- lots of players come to the stadium the day of the drive to sign autographs and thank everyone who comes to donate. Rod Smith has been a real driving force (no pun intended) in getting the guys' support. He has a daughter with sickle cell anemia, so he understands how important blood donation is.

One year I was donating next to a rookie quarterback named Matt Mauck. He wasn't with the team very long, but he seemed like a pretty nice guy from what I could gather while we chatted. We started about the same time but I finished before him, so I can technically say I've won a race against an NFL quarterback.

I'm close to getting my second "gallon pin" which Bonfils gives people for every eight pints of blood they donate. They say a single donation can be used by up to three patients, so when I get that second pin that will mean I may have helped almost 50 people.

Not bad for just letting someone stick me with a needle.