SECOND VERSE, SAME AS THE FIRST

In Super Bowl 50, the Denver Broncos are hoping for a redux of days gone by

The Denver Broncos have been here before.

Yes, they’ve been to the Super Bowl. As many as any team in NFL history, as a mater of fact. But that’s not what I mean.

They’ve also entered the Super Bowl as a heavy underdog against a well-oiled and seemingly unstoppable NFC champ. Repeatedly. But that’s not what I mean either.

The Broncos are the only team in NFL history with experience in the following, very specific situation: a legendary quarterback — arguably the best in his generation, if not ever — in the twilight of his career manages to get his team to the Super Bowl by making the most of his now-diminished skills and relying on other, league-best facets of his team.

In 1997, John Elway (the greatest quarterback to ever snap on a chin strap) was an aging football player. He had a career full of dazzling highlights and eye-popping statistics in his rear-view mirror, but he had zero championship rings despite three opportunities.

But 1997 was different. In 1997, Elway had the NFL’s best ground game, led by 2,000-yard rusher Terrell Davis. He also had a game-changing and position-redefining tight end (Shannon Sharpe) and a dominating defense. It was this unique constellation of weapons that ultimately reversed John Elway’s Super Bowl fortunes.

In Super Bowl XXXII, Elway put on a gutty (if statistically average) performance typified by his diving, helicoptering first-down run that extended the team’s fourth-quarter go-ahead drive. Elway was not individually dominant that day. In truth, at his age (37) he was probably not physically capable of being individually dominant any more; at least not in the way that he had been during the early years of his storied career. But he was the undisputed leader of a dominant team. And in the end, it was the Elway-led team that (finally) brought the Lombardi Trophy to Denver.

In 2016, Peyton Manning finds himself in a remarkably similar situation. His once-mesmerizing physical skills tempered with age, Manning enters Super Bowl 50 humbled and hobbled. But he doesn’t arrive unarmed. Like Elway before him, Manning leads a team loaded with weapons that are better than any he has deployed and enjoyed in years past.

Unlike Elway, Manning’s greatest ally isn’t on his side of the ball — it’s the league’s most dominating, stifling and punishing defense, which is chomping at the bit to prove one of the game’s the oldest adages: that defense wins championships. There are other weapons — a crafty running game, a talented receiving corps — but all indicators are that the performance of the Denver defense will be the game’s determining factor and the answer to the question of whether Peyton walks off a champion.

We don’t know yet whether Manning’s career is destined for the same fairy tale ending as Elway’s — the book’s final chapter is set to be written on February 7 — but we know that the characters, themes and moral of the story are looking awfully familiar.

Bronco fans have seen this story before, and they like how it ends.