Tradition Tuesday: Travis-ty

The rough focus of this blog is the historic rivalry between two original American Football Conference teams: the Denver Broncos and the Dallas Texans. In the early days, those Broncos weren't much to look at. They wore vertically-striped brown and yellow socks and they lost a lot.

The Texans, however, were a powerhouse. Financed by the secretive millions of known Oswald-Ruby coconspirator Lamar Hunt and his henchmen, they selected a coach named Hank Stram, who played fast and loose with both the rules of the sport and the English language. They matriculated on up the prairie to Kansas City, best known as the hideout of fugitive outlaws Jesse James and Timothy McVeigh, and adopted the nickname of a local political boss, "The Chief." These mighty warriors laid waste to the old AFL and collected many baubles and trinkets associated with glory and victory.

Then three young men were born in the 1970s: myself, Cecil and Banky. We were blank slates, clean and pure, untainted by the awful decisions grown-ups make. Bathed in the sparkling waters of the majestic Rocky Mountains, Cecil and I gravitated toward the Broncos. Our childhood innocence touched the franchise with a golden glow of goodness, which led to many seasons of winning and multiple championship celebrations. If it seems like I just took credit for winning the Super Bowl twice, well, you didn't think I was going to acknowledge Bill Romanowski, did you?

Meanwhile, out in KC, Banky's people turned the young boy over to the powerful forces of Lord Hunt and his minions. Year after year the darkness was burned into him like a brand on his soul. It's hopeless for the Banky generation, but perhaps we at the HoG can reach out to the next wave of youngsters and help them see the light. Onward, boys! To Victory!

I assure you, this Tradition we maintain is rarely as stupid as what I have just described. Usually we just get drunk and yell at the refs. So here's Tradition Tuesday--a weekly state of the rivalry address.

The big news out in Dove Valley, and indeed all across the landscape of smart-ass sports comedy, is the release of Broncos running back Travis Henry. We're all going to miss him around here. No more T-Hen Watch. No more Derrick Thomas jokes, at least about bastard kids. No more bongs. Actually, there will still be bongs. Just not engraved No. 20 Reebok authentic bongs.

What Henry leaves behind in the way of joke inspiration, however, far exceeds his Bronco legacy of actually playing the game of football. After the jump, we'll take a peek around what's left of the Denver backfield, predict who might help your stupid fantasy team next season, and find a way to make fun of another pothead...

I have to say, I was pretty damn shocked that Henry got canned at this juncture. I was actually driving around with my father-in-law on Sunday, a potentially uncomfortable moment that was saved by the fact that he's a Bronco jihadist. In the course of our conversation, he asked me point blank if I thought the team would cut ties with Henry.

"No way," I said. "They gave him a $12 million signing bonus on a 4-year deal, so cutting him now would cost them $9 mil against the cap this season. They'll get one more year out of him and dump him after June 1 in '09."

And then a day later he's gone. Shows you how much I know about the salary cap. I was unaware of several facts: One, it was originally a five-year contract, so the prorated slices are slimmer. Two, Henry restructured after his flop debut, so he won't get another dime out of the team. According to Mike Klis he'll cost the Broncos $1.2 million against the cap this season and $3.6 mil next.

Klis also posts a mailbag today with a bunch of wacky dope in it. He sees the Broncos checking in as one of the top 12 teams in the league and competing for a playoff spot in the final week. I say lay off that crack, pal. Klis also envisions a big role for Michael Pittman--hogwash. Pittman has been a marginal player for the last seven years, both in Arizona and in Tampa. I'll be stunned if he tallies 100 carries this season, and the only way he sees the field very much is in the event of copious injuries.

The ball will go to Selvin Young. He's allegedly beefed up in anticipation of an increased workload. But because Shanahan is a big advocate of platooning his RBs, get ready for Ryan Torain to enter the picture as well. He was a fifth-round pick out of Arizona State whose only downside is a checkered injury history. Keep him out of the trainer's room and you have a ready-made back for the system.

Pittman will log a lot of clipboard time, but perhaps he could fill in a little at fullback as well. After all, he does have some experience plowing into the line and opening holes. You stay classy, Denver. Bill Williamson, one of Cecil's favorite objects of scorn, thinks that wife-and-kid-endangerer Pittman will be a soothing comfort in the locker room as opposed to the disruption of Henry. I know T-hen has a lot of kids, but to my knowledge he never aimed a Hummer at any of them.

Even more incredibly, Pittman's old employer has brought a bigger scumbag in to fill his roster spot. If you ever need to kill an hour, check out the excellent Seattle Times series on Rick Neuheisel's out-of-control Washington team, especially the chapter on Jerramy Stevens. It will shock, amaze and disgust you.

And just to get a little more class and dignity up in this joint, and in the interest of equal time for KC, here's an update on the newest athletic role model for the City of Fountains. Mr. Carter, you'll remember, was booted from the NFL for liking the drugs and possibly being bipolar. But Coach Herman, who once had carter on his Jets roster and I can only assume invited him over for barbecues these days, says he "is of good character." Good enough for me.