Want to start a conversation while roaming America? It's easy, really. Just mention you're from Colorado and somebody will mention John Elway and the words will start flowing.
He's not from here. He was born on the edge of the Puget Sound in Port Angeles, Wash., and played high school football in Los Angeles.
Still, he defines us.
He's the gambler who delivered thrills and tears to millions in Colorado. He suffered public humiliation in three Super Bowl losses, but crafted the most dramatic sports exit ever with consecutive Super Bowl victories.
The defining began 30 years ago, on Jan. 11, 1987, when Elway led the Denver Broncos on a last-minute drive against Cleveland in the AFC title game. That drive became The Drive and started Elway's evolution from a promising, if flawed, quarterback into the face of a franchise, and a state.
After The Drive, fans and critics quit talking about Elway's potential. We all saw the full extent of Elway's powerful combination of gifts and started preparing for all the fun ahead. He would carry the Broncos to five Super Bowls. He would take a helicopter ride against the Packers in the first of his two Super Bowl victories. He would return as a football exec/godfather in 2011 to revive the Broncos, who plunged to the depths during Josh McDaniels' reign of error.
In April 2003, a few weeks into my years as a Gazette sports columnist, I talked with Elway in downtown Denver. This remains my only lengthy conversation with No. 7. We talked about our children. We talked about the Broncos. We talked about the wonders of living in Colorado.
And we considered the rumor that he was preparing to run for one of Colorado's senate seats.
"I'm not running," Elway said. "Where do you hear those rumors? Who starts these things?"
On Monday, Elway squashed yet another political rumor. This time, he said he will not run for governor.
What's at the heart of these political rumors? There's a simple answer. In Colorado, many residents believe in Elway, period. He can improve Washington D.C. as a senator, or elevate our state as governor.
Why do so many believe so deeply in the political potential of a retired quarterback?
When a man leads a 98-yard march in the cold in Cleveland, people start believing he can do anything.
The march to the end zone against the Browns did not begin with promise. When Elway trotted on the field with 5:32 left, he was preparing to attack a Browns defense that had silenced him for most of the dreary afternoon. The Broncos had crawled to 13 points with only three points in the second half. Elway had passed for fewer than 200 yards.
The Elway of Jan. 11, 1987 was not yet the Elway who inspires families to name their sons and dogs after him. He had won his first playoff game the week before. He had collected 35 interceptions over two seasons.
He was untamed quarterback competing in a ferocious venue.
Cleveland Municipal Stadium was a lovable, venerable downtown dump on the edge of Lake Erie. Bob Feller, one of greatest right-handers in baseball history, had pitched there. Jim Brown, the fast and furious halfback, had trampled over tacklers there. The Browns had powered to NFL titles in the 1950s on the field.
The atmosphere was loud and weird and hostile. Fans in "The Dog Pound" dressed up as canines and howled like beasts as they tossed dog biscuits on the field. As the fourth quarter clicked away, the Browns looked on their way to their first Super Bowl. Joyful fans could sense a return to the glory days of the 1950s.
Simon Fletcher, a ferocious pass rusher, sensed a different ending. Amid the strange roar of Municipal Stadium, a silent believer stood on the Broncos sideline.
"I had been around John and those blockers and those guys running with the ball long enough to know until the final whistle, anything was possible," Fletcher said. "I knew we were still in the game."
In the huddle, running back Steve Sewell and his teammates were not seeking to craft NFL history. They trailed, 20-13, and just wanted to travel to the end zone.
"When you're at home watching the game on TV, you're at the edge of your seat. You're a mess. You're a fan," Sewell said. "When you're a player, it's different. You have to stay calm. It's one play at a time. We just knew we had to move the ball. We knew we had to score. We didn't know how it was going to end.
"We didn't know it was The Drive at the time. We were just trying to get down the field."
The Drive started at the Broncos' 2-yard line after a muffed kickoff return. At first, the Broncos moved as fast as a glacier. On The Drive's third play, a third and 2 from the Browns' 10, running back Sammy Winder tested Cleveland's line and was smothered. The Browns danced, believing they had forced a punt, but officials offered a generous spot for a Denver first down.
After that, coach Dan Reeves unleashed Elway, who used his arm and feet to push the Broncos. Elway found Sewell for a 22-yard gain. He hit Mark Jackson for 20 with a laser-like throw on third and 18. He ran for 20 yards on two scrambles.
The Broncos moved to the Browns' 5-yard line with 42 seconds left. On a third and 1, Jackson went in motion, sprinted toward the sideline before making a sudden burst toward the middle of the field. He was open.
Elway saw Jackson and released one of his trademark fastballs. These fastballs left marks on receiver's chests. These fastballs mangled fingers. This fastball was moving rapidly toward Jackson's hands.
"We needed every bit of concentration that Mark possessed in his body," Fletcher said. "It was a do-or-die. It was for all those guys on the field and on the sidelines. It was for millions of Broncos fans."
Elway is forever the lead actor in The Drive. His starring role always will overshadow Jackson's. This is how history works. The supporting players fade from view.
But always remember this: Jackson made a supremely difficult catch look easy.
Jackson engulfed the Elway rocket with his body, tumbled on the patchy Ohio grass and ended the 98-yard march. The Broncos ruled overtime, and Elway was on his way to Canton's Pro Football Hall of Fame, which is a breezy hour-long drive from downtown Cleveland.
A piece of travel advice for Colorado residents/Bronco fans:
Avoid mentioning Elway when you travel to Ohio.
