DMac’s open letter to Greg Penner as the Broncos search continues
Jan 25, 2023, 3:02 PM | Updated: Jan 26, 2023, 6:57 am
What Up G,
I’m not sure who you are talking to these days about your head coaching search, but I wanted to have a bro talk with you. My man! We are the exact same age and we met both of our wives in college. Now, you made the mistake of going to Georgetown while I attended Syracuse, but hey, nobody’s perfect. While you went on to get something called an MBA, I was MaGoo the Weather Elf hollering out school cancellations at Z89 for towns such as Solvay, Camillus and Baldwinsville in the greater Syracuse Metro area.
You know—comparable paths.
However, I have been doing something a bit longer than you—no, not shopping the dollar bin—I’ve been paying very close attention to the Denver Broncos. Through good times and bad over the past 23 years, some things have become painfully obvious. So as a magnanimous gesture, I want to extend an olive branch over our inherent Jim Boeheim-John Thompson divide and give a bro a heads up.
Guess what, your Georgetown degree could finally pay off!
The most critical thing in this head coach searching process is to be the college Greggers, not the CEO Gregory. To get where you have got, you’ve had to trust your gut. I’m sure a questionable, risky decision was made on M street back in the day. Be ‘Toga! Toga! Toga!’ GP—not boardroom Mr. Penner.
You got tricked on the Russell Wilson contract by your general manager George Paton. For whatever reason, you decided to keep a well-meaning, but clueless executive.
Hey, it’s okay, Gregski. Mistakes for first time, rookie owners are expected. You have to understand this fanbase has been bludgeoned by bad decisions made by GMs previous to your purchase. The core mistake is not understanding the basics of successful football teams.
It’s simple. It’s all about the quarterback. I know, I know. You were told Russell Wilson was that guy. Hey, he’s not. Bummer for you, me, and all the fans in what John Elway coined ‘Broncoland.’ No use in crying over spilled ayahuasca. We can move on, but this is where it gets tricky.
You need to go back to what you originally wanted to do in the first place: hire Jim Harbaugh!
My compatriots at Denver Sports, Zach Bye and Brandon Stokley have circled back to this idea, and while it burns my ego to not come up with the revelation in the first place, I would be foolish to dismiss their brilliant observation. Until Harbaugh has a new contract with Michigan, he remains in play. If you haven’t figured it out yet, sports are all about lying and deception. Don’t worry about what has been said, concern yourself with what has been done, or in Harbaugh’s case, what hasn’t been.
I’m more than fine with David Shaw. I totally get why he makes sense for you. I wouldn’t even gripe if that’s the decision you make. DeMeco Ryans would likely be a great candidate too. Both of these men could likely give you what you need.
Thank goodness, you likely passed on Sean “Hollywood” Payton. FYI, it’s never good to hire somebody who has been portrayed by Kevin James in a movie.
Dan Quinn would be a Russell Wilson babysitter. I’m sorry you even had to hear from Jerry Rosburg. There’s a hyperbaric chamber with his name on it. He will be fine.
But, Harbaugh is still out there like a Wolverine in the Michigan wilderness. School president Santa Ono put out a statement to stall your search, but don’t get it twisted brosephus, folks in sports lie all the time.
Harbaugh is a bit wounded and a bit sensitive. Likely, had you interviewed him last instead of first, you may have already had the khaki pants presser. But, alas, he got spooked and snuck back to Santa. Whatever! His buyout remains a paltry $3 million. He has resurrected four programs in college and in the pros. Most importantly, he has dealt with complicated quarterback situations and has made tough decisions for the betterment of the team. Harbaugh is cold-blooded and has bite!
Down with the hugs!
Greg, let me ask you something, was Allen Iverson a nice player, or was he a vicious competitor who burned to win? Was Patrick Ewing a swell fella, or a swaggering, sweaty, basketball demon who brought your school glory? Did John Thompson tip-toe courtside, or did he menace officials with his towel-draped attitude?
C’mon man, you know the answer!
You know what has been obvious all along!
This isn’t about having an afternoon java sporting a three-quarter zip in a Palo Alto hipster coffee shop. I’m here to tell you it’s about being a Dawg! I can’t believe I’m saying this, but it’s about being a Hoya!
This advice has made me vomit in my mouth. But, I’m going to take one for the team. Okay — what time can we start the party?