While the Pacers’ run from 1994-2000 was special and elevated Indianapolis on the national stage, the 2003-10 stretch for the Colts was the golden age of Indy pro sports. I feel fortunate to have covered the team and to have had season tickets during that remarkable and entertaining time. The memories of both amazing wins and crushing defeats, shared with family and friends, live forever. Unfortunately, it all came to a brutal conclusion.
The last personal experience I had with Manning was during November of the 2011 season, when he came by to talk with my table at St. Elmo after another calamitous Curtis Painter Sunday. He was gracious and genuine, perhaps knowing that he was on the last leg of his historic journey in Indy. During his tear-jerker of a farewell press conference a few months later, I wished I’d conveyed more just how much he and the team meant to us and the city. Sometimes words can’t do the job.
I’ve been asked numerous times how I’ll be in the stands on Sunday night. In the end, it’s pretty simple — if I’m able to find my seat after five hours of tailgating, I’ll applaud loudly for Manning when he takes the field, and briefly and fondly recall a time now gone. After that, I want Robert Mathis to rip his head off.
Sorry, Peyton. That’s how it goes.
— Brent Glasgow is a sports writer for the Westside Flyer. He may be reached by calling 272-5800 ext. 190 or by e-mailing to firstname.lastname@example.org.