’77: Denver, The Broncos, And A Coming Of Age
by Terry Frei
Before John Elway made his way into the hearts and souls of Broncos fans and the citizens of Denver, the Broncos fielded an odd collection of players in 1976 and made a Super Bowl run into 1977 before ultimately falling at the hands of the Dallas Cowboys. Terry Frei, who first broke into sports journalism in 1976 in Denver, chronicles how the team’s unlikely run brought legitimacy to Denver as a sports city and how it inadvertently became a factor in Denver becoming a legitimate U.S. city in general.
Reading the book, it is funny how many players (either the ones who were drafted by the Broncos or traded to Denver) had a reaction similar to “Denver? Isn’t that near Canada or something?” upon hearing where their new NFL home was going to be. Growing up during the same time that Elway came into the league, I have always known Denver to be a legitimate sports city but, apparently, that was not always the case. For the most part, as Frei describes it, Denver (and its surrounding areas) was a part of America that, while it had its share of loyal citizens and beautiful landscapes, basically became blended with Utah and could be at best described as the capital of the Rocky Mountains. To people of the Midwest and the East it was just another mountain city or a poor man’s Seattle. To the people of the West coast it was a great place to go on vacation or possibly move to later on down the line. But the people of Denver (and of Colorado), at least in a sports sense, were pretty rabid in following the Broncos, Air Force, the University of Colorado, and Colorado State. (Though the city had the Nuggets and the short-lived NHL team Rockies, it took a little while for the NBA to catch on and for the city to be granted an MLB team–the second incarnation of the name Rockies–and another NHL team–the Avalanche by way of Quebec.)
In any case, what is ironic about ’77 is that before I read it I thought for sure that I would be fascinated by the storylines that Frei weaved throughout about Denver (mayor McNicholls, governor Lamm, the growing protests from the Latin American community) and the stories about Lyle Alzado. Instead, I found the city storylines to be just mediocre and Alzado’s presence a bit part all while being fascinated instead by the coach Red Miller and the other, lesser role players.
Before the ’76 season began, a number of players (they were coined “The Dirty Dozen” in the press but no one–even to this day–knows exactly how many or who were involved) banded together and got imcumbent coach John Ralston fired. Denver in turn hired Red Miller, a coach who seemed destined to never get higher than an offensive coordinator in the NFL. The story of Miller is one of the greatest things about the book because, let’s be honest, what leagacy has been crafted by the media for Miller? He made only one Super Bowl appearance and the ’70′s in general showcased Tom Landry, Chuck Noll, John Madden, Don Shula, and Bud Grant–all coaches who possessed, albeit in varying degrees, a larger-than-life persona amongst NFL players and the media.
The way that Frei shows Ralston’s coaching lineage and drafting prowess combined with Miller’s innate sense of getting the most out of his players without resorting to grandiose speeches or intimidation is really the reason to buy the book. Ralston and Miller have become forgotten characters within the NFL’s history books and it was a nice surprise (I had no idea who they were) to rediscover who they were. Along the way, Frei introduces the reader to the rest of the team and, for the most part, it is written well and most of the players are compelling. But the nagging feeling I had all throughout the book was that side history and perspective on Denver as a city was ultimately unnecessary but I understand why it was written.
As I read ’77, I kept thinking to myself that that Broncos team kind of unfolded much like the 2006 Chicago Bears did: nice guy Lovie Smith (another coach who could have wound up as a lifer coordinator) takes over a team that finally beats their loathesome rivals (the Packers, just like the Broncos finally unseated the hated Raiders) and winds up going to a Super Bowl fueled by shrewd drafting and smart free agent moves. To me, in thirty years, the story of the ’06 Bears would be a great story to re-read just as I am sure that the ’77 Broncos is great to revisit to those for whom this team held a special place in their hearts.
As a football book, ’77 holds its own but as a sports book that incorporates moments in time outside of the stadium it is only above average. If you lived in Denver (or live there now) this book may be more interesting to you than the average NFL fan. But if you live outside of Colorado you may want to hold off buying this until you find it for under $10 online or something. Ultimately, this book reminded me of the books that Erik Larson has wrote (Thunderstruck and Isaac’s Storm in particular) before and after The Devil In The White City. Devil was so great from front to back because the story was so mesmerizing, whereas the other two books were mediocre because the stories themselves were not very compelling. Frei, like Larson, falls short in making something out of nothing and it is somewhat annoying because I had high hopes for ’77 (just like I did with the two aforementioned Larson books).
