“It’s not embarrassing at all,” Manning said. “I would not use that word. There’s a bunch of professional football players in that Denver locker room who put in a lot of hard work to play in that game.”
This was after all of that, after the developments and aftermath of a night Peyton Manning – the great Peyton Manning – had been so profoundly ordinary and the Denver offense with its 37.9 points per game in the regular season, the 55 touchdown passes, was nearly shut out. After the Broncos’ dream season, the one Manning came back from neck surgery to engineer, collapsed in spectacular fashion.
It was then that Manning, walking down a hallway back toward the locker room, still surrounded by cops, still followed by a guy dragging his bag, still trying to just find some peace and quiet and to the mourning process that comes from losing the big game in a big way.
It was then that Peyton Manning heard the very respectful voice of Steve Lopez, a beer vendor from the Bronx.
“Mr. Manning, could I please get an autograph?” the 25-year-old asked.
Manning’s head turned and looked Lopez in the eye. These were the opposite ends of the NFL food chain – megastar multimillionaire and a guy hawking Bud Lights in the stands. The wave of the crowd was pushing Manning forward, but he locked in on Lopez.
“Not now,” Manning said, “but when I come back this way I will.”