Floyd Jaramillo must get his big, inflatable Bronco mascot blown up and displayed in his front yard by 10 a.m. today.
Patsy Ford will be found working out this morning, and on Friday, you may have noticed her in the same orange sweater and blue shirt she's been wearing before game days.
By game time, Chris Wiebel can't be wearing anything that says Broncos on it.
During the game, Joe Fowler must make sure that his dog's fetching ball is out of his hand before Peyton Manning takes the snap.
If these Durango fans play their parts properly, then it's hard to imagine the Denver Broncos won't defeat the Seattle Seahawks today in Super Bowl XLVIII (that's 48, for the Roman numerically challenged).
Yes, sports fans have unique methods of helping their team. And it's guaranteed that all will have game faces on when Denver kicks off its first Super Bowl since Jan. 31, 1999.
Watching pro football and drinking beer is – let's face facts here – more American now than viewing baseball and eating apple pie. Just look at the TV ratings: It isn't even close. Even in outdoors-minded, Snowdown-addled Southwest Colorado, there are plenty of Broncos fans both diehard and fair-weather. And they'll be tuning in. And many will be cheering and acting in ways to help their squad win.
So turn the football-shaped plastic doorknob and enter Floyd Jaramillo's Broncos room, where at 4:30 p.m. today he'll be on his Broncos couch, chewing nervously on sunflower seeds and drinking Coca-Cola. The room is something perhaps only a Denver fan would love, and an understanding wife would allow – as long as the memorabilia doesn't start leaking into other rooms of the house.
And there's a lot of memorabilia to contain in one room. His wife, Laura Jaramillo, a preschool teacher at Needham Elementary School, is sort of to blame for this. It was her gift of a helmet phone that started a collection that now includes pennants, bobblehead dolls, a clock, a “Broncos Country” street sign, and even a Chunky Soup can featuring former Broncos star Terrell Davis.
“It doesn't end,” Laura says.
Floyd Jaramillo, who works in the pharmacy at Mercy Regional Medical Center, has been a Broncos booster since the 1970s and has had Broncos season tickets since 1997.
If he's attending a game, it's imperative that he parks at the same stadium lot two hours before the game. He recently had to turn down a Denver-area friend's offer to park at his house and catch a ride.
“I don't do anything out of normal,” he says.
Today, you can count on the big inflatable Broncos lineman being in the yard by 10 a.m. And it's certain that the Jaramillos' Yorkshire terrier, Megan, will be wearing her Broncos jersey.
Just superstition?
Other Durango-area residents have pregame rituals.
Rick and Sherri Hartman of Hermosa will drive their 1970 Mustang, painted in Broncos orange and blue, over to greet the train at the nearby tracks. They'll cruise into downtown Durango, where fans usually hoot and holler at them, and many wave for them to stop so they can take their photo with it.
“When we don't drive it to town, they don't win,” says Sherri Hartman. “Anything we can do to help the Broncos win, we'll do.”
Denver native Patsy Ford says she heard ESPN Radio talk host Mike Golic, a former NFL player, pooh-pooh the idea that fans influence the outcome.
“I think it's the collective mojo,” says Ford, the health programs director at San Juan Basin Health Department in Durango. Her siblings and co-workers “all seem to have something that they do that they seem to think helps the collective ... whatever it is that keeps the Broncos winning.”
Ford's co-worker Joe Fowler, an epidemiologist, knows that timing will be crucial today. When Denver is on offense, he has to throw his border collie's rubber ball, referred to as “bo-bo,” onto the catwalk above before the snap.
“If the bo-bo's in my hand, the play is blown.”
Grace runs upstairs to retrieve the ball as the play unfolds. But complications can occur. Fowler's throw might bounce back downstairs, for instance.
“You've gotta throw the ball real quick if the ball bounces back down,” he says. “You've gotta be on your toes.”
Wiebel will be in his Broncos room today, not wearing anything that says Broncos.
“The only time I did that was the Jacksonville fiasco,” he says, referring to a devastating 30-27 home playoff loss on Jan. 4, 1997.
His other maneuvers will be game decisions.
If things go bad, he might change couches or close his laptop.
“I can't predict those,” says Wiebel, a Durango native who played football in high school.
One of his coaches was former Durango High physical education teacher Steve Thyfault, who was contacted Friday on a driving range in Arizona.
“I've got all my Broncos gear on right now,” he assured via cellphone.
During the game, “I don't turn my hat backwards or wear my pajamas,” he says.
But he does analyze it heavily, particularly when he's sitting with his wife, Viki, a former DHS basketball coach.
Steve Thyfault says it's a big occasion in that it brings family and friends together.
“The Super Bowl, to me, it's almost like a holiday,” he says.
Museum in Mancos
In an unassuming town in an unassuming neighborhood in an unassuming house, you'll find another serious Broncos memorabilia collector. During the course of more than three decades, through the help of friends and trips to games and flea markets, Pat and Loraine Archuleta have assembled a museum's worth of team goods.
A 16-by-40-foot room includes a Broncos Christmas tree colored blue and orange and adorned with dozens of Broncos ornaments. On the floor below, a train of Broncos cars chugs around a short track. Deeper into the room you'll find a 3-foot-high Broncos kachina doll, 8-by-10-inch signed posters, signed football cards, key chains, 82 belt buckles, jerseys, a couple of sand paintings, signed footballs and cleats. All Broncos-themed.
This is no secret in Mancos. The Mancos Valley Bank borrowed some of Archuleta's pennants, jerseys and hats to display Friday. Someone leading tours of the town wanted to add the room as a stop; the Archuletas politely declined.
“People expect the towels and the bedspreads,” Pat Archuleta says during a recent tour. But when they step into the room and see the extent, they're surprised.
“I've actually had people shout when they've walked in the door – 'Whoah!'” he says.
Ironically, one of his most prized possessions is a Detroit Lions jersey. But there's a good reason.
The No. 94 uniform was worn by Luther Elliss, a 1991 Mancos graduate who played on a Mancos High team quarterbacked by Leo Archuleta, Pat and Loraine's son.
But don't fret, Broncos fans. There's also a humongous Luther Elliss cleat signed by several Broncos when Elliss played defensive line for them in 2004. Elliss now is retired and lives in Salt Lake City but continues to keep in touch with the Archuletas.
The Archuletas have simple game rituals. Pat paces the floor when the going gets tough, and Loraine will fold her hands or sit on them.
Quarterbacks Peyton Manning (Denver) and Russell Wilson (Seattle) may think it's the way they throw the ball. Coaches John Fox (Denver) and Pete Carroll (Seattle) may think they have a role.
But maybe today's winner is determined off the field, perhaps far, far away, by those whose loyalty will outlive the career of any player or coach: You, the fan.
johnp@durangoherald.com
