On their annual visit to Santa Claus, my sister’s oldest son had a secret for the jolly old elf.
“I know you are not a fake because I saw your sleigh on top of Target,” he said, just quiet enough that his younger brothers would not hear.
It was a savvy move by the school-age youngster who stands on the precipice of what Angela Lansbury called in a Disney classic, “the age of not believing.”
Clearly, he has his doubts. The kids at school chatter. The evidence doesn’t exactly add up anymore. Mom and dad’s answers to questions on the topic seem more strained than ever. It’s taking more and more blind faith to truly believe these days.
But in the end, when face-to-face with the little old driver so lively and quick, he hedged his bets and offered up his Christmas wishes before he hugged that bowlful of jelly goodbye for another year. He knows in his heart of hearts he may not be right, but he’s happier that way.
Denver sports fans might be happier to follow his example.
In the rush to be right about what’s going to happen with our teams, we often miss out on the simple joy of believing in them.
The evidence stacking up against the Denver Broncos lately is not good. After an unblemished (albeit imperfect) 7-0 start to the season, Denver has stumbled in the subsequent seven games, going 3-4 and putting what once looked like a certain fifth-consecutive AFC West title now in doubt.
Peyton Manning has been painfully humanized, sidelined indefinitely with a torn plantar fascia; his return is even more questionable than his play had been before he was benched midway through a humiliating Week 10 loss to Kansas City. Manning’s replacement, Brock Osweiler, rattled off three consecutive wins before suffering consecutive losses and failing to score a single offensive point in the second half of his last three games. It seems unlikely that either can engineer sustained playoff success based on what we’ve seen this year.
Meanwhile, a defense that once looked invincible, often snatching victory from the jaws of defeat in the early goings of the season, now looks run down and vulnerable. Nearly half the roster is listed on the injury report and key starters and impact players have been missing from the lineup for several weeks. A “Super Bowl-caliber defense” this may not actually be anymore.
The coaching staff that was brought in to revive a ground game has had no answers for a makeshift offensive line and injured running backs. To boot, they’ve repeatedly lost the halftime adjustment battle, and several games as a result. Gary Kubiak looks ill prepared to match wits with championship pedigree coaches down the stretch.
And that’s just the Denver Broncos.
The Colorado Avalanche, who were 4-9-1 through 15 games, have clawed their way back to 17-17-1. But they’ve been inconsistent and streaky, not exactly qualities of a playoff team. They’ve been prone to giving up goals in a flurry, a sure way to skew your record in the wrong direction. And their goaltender has been at times superb and at others shaky, battling both injury and confidence, not a good thing when your coach, perhaps the greatest to ever play the position, considers you the key to the season.
The Denver Nuggets, at 11-17, have not won a game in which they’ve scored less than 100 points. They’ve suffered an eight-game losing streak already and are winning just 36 percent of their games at Pepsi Center in what should be the greatest home-court advantage in the NBA. Their highly touted rookie has, at times, looked painful running the offense and has missed games with pain in his ankle, a major concern considering his injury history.
The Colorado Rockies have once again failed to inspire with their offseason pitching moves, adding only aging veterans to the bullpen, while virtually everyone else in the division has gone out and added top-tier starting pitching. They appear either ignorant of the changing tide in baseball, or unable/unwilling to unhitch their boat.
It would be easy at this point to look at the facts of the matter and say Denver has no chance of success in January and beyond. Not just for the Broncos, but for the Avalanche, Nuggets and Rockies, as well. And, in fairness, we might be right to do so. But what is gained in being right in such matters?
Does the disappointment of another playoff loss (or missing them outright) sting any less if we knew Peyton Manning (or Brock Osweiler) could never get the job done? Or that this Broncos defense was never going to last? Or that Gary Kubiak is in over his head?
Do we feel any better casting aspersions at the Avalanche because we are sure they’ll never live up to their potential? Or ignoring the Nuggets because they simply lack the talent to compete? Or vilifying the Rockies because they refuse to keep up with the Joneses?
Is it comforting to point out Santa’s mercurial handwriting? Or the lack of reindeer and sleigh tracks on the roof? Or the likelihood that the North Pole will be a swimming hole by the end of the century?
It’s easy to justify all of those points, from Manning to the North Pole, and we might be right in doing so. But is anything gained in such a miserly view of things?
The 1977 Denver Broncos weren’t supposed to beat the Oakland Raiders in the AFC Championship Game. The Stanley Cup wasn’t supposed to end up in a city that didn’t know icing from an ICEE. A Nuggets team that wasn’t expected to make the playoffs shouldn’t have won 57 games. Rocktober shouldn’t have happened. And presents aren’t supposed to magically appear underneath our Christmas tree.
Yet each of those things did happen, and brought immeasurable joy with them. The joy of Santa Claus lies in the reward of simply believing. Our sports teams might not deliver with the same regularity as St. Nick, but the memories those successes bring linger for years. Tebow Mania. Mission 16W. The happiness of those moments greatly overshadows any negative feelings about Tim Tebow or Ray Bourque.
There’s little consolation in being right when things go wrong. There’s certainly no more happiness.
If joy is what you seek this holiday season and beyond, it may be best to never reach that age of not believing.