Even at a press conference, Sean Payton sends a message to Broncos Country

INDIANAPOLIS — We’d gotten used to everything running late.

The quip I made a few times last season was about “Hackett Time.” It was borne out of too many minutes spent waiting in between two gates at UCHealth Training Center and a lifetime spent watching far too many NFL Films presentations.

Nathaniel Hackett came from Green Bay, of course. So, my mind flashed back to something narrated by the man called by some the “Voice of God,” NFL Films’ late narrator, John Facenda.

Back in the 1960s, the locals would say that the clocks in Green Bay ran 15 minutes fast. That’s because to legendary coach Vince Lombardi, being 15 minutes early to meetings was to be on time. Ten minutes early meant that you were late.

In fact, a clock above a gate at Lambeau Field still runs on “Lombardi Time.” It’s always 15 minutes ahead.

Tom Coughlin took the same concept and applied it in Jacksonville and with the New York Giants — although his time was five minutes early. He was basically doing the Lombardi thing, though.

All roads eventually lead back to Lombardi. Including the one Hackett traversed for three years in Green Bay — appropriately named Lombardi Avenue.

So, a half-century after Green Bay exported “Lombardi Time” for a brief and tragically short stint in Washington, Denver got “Hackett Time.” It was the exact opposite. Press conferences were 10 to 15 minutes after their scheduled time.

Now, some of that was due to the declared scheduling. Announce that they’re at a time, start them later, and you can give the media a wide berth of clock time to gather. I can buy that; it’s like herding cats sometimes. However, I buy it reluctantly and with a dollop of skepticism, because I recall Mike Shanahan’s 1:30 p.m. Monday press conferences usually starting at that time, give or take a few seconds.

But even beyond press conferences there was a fluid sense of timeliness last season. Something less than the Swiss-clock perfection that teams often run by — including the Broncos, especially during the Shanahan and Gary Kubiak eras.

So, at 9:51 a.m. EST on Tuesday, a decent chunk of Denver-based media gathered at Podium No. 3 in the Combine media room at the Indiana Convention Center, awaiting the latest man tasked with turning around the Broncos. The conversation was casual — travel plans, how long you’re staying at the Combine, whatever. It’s the type of idle chatter that happens when you’re killing time.

Sean Payton wasn’t scheduled to talk for another nine minutes.

But he was already there.

Flanked by Broncos PR maven Patrick Smyth, Payton was already in the wings. Those in the front of the media scrum could see him.

And he wasn’t going to wait.

He walked up to the podium, and at 9:52 a.m. — eight minutes early — the session began.

“Hackett Time” is dead.

Bring on “Payton Time.”

“I’m glad we’re starting ahead of time,” he said. “My first official Combine press conference. Here we go.”

But actually — it wasn’t. He spoke at the 2009 Combine. The 2007 one, too. Still, it had been a while, and the hubbub over the Combine was quite different then. There’s a Radio Row now — or, more accurately, a radio/podcast/digital row. And on Thursday, media will stream into Lucas Oil Stadium to watch Combine workouts.

So, one can forgive Payton that lapse. Especially after he launched into a series of lengthy answers to a fusillade of questions — just like he did at UCHealth Training Center 22 days earlier.

But seventeen minutes into the press conference an NFL staffer helpfully interjected, “A couple more (questions)” to begin the process of winding down the questions. This is typical. And frankly, when this happens, media typically roll their eyes. Especially when the interviewee is rolling, as Payton was.

So, the new boss had none of that.

“We’ve got a lot more,” he said. “You OK with me telling (them)? OK.”

Payton remained at the microphone for six more questions and eight more minutes.

He started eight minutes early and left two minutes late.

Meanwhile, general manager George Paton watched and waited. When he finally took the podium, he spoke truth.

“That’s a tough act to follow,” he said.

In the Payton and Paton Show, George knows he’s the John Oates to the coach’s Daryl Hall. But that’s OK. As Saints general manager Mickey Loomis learned, a partnership with Payton can be a lengthy and fruitful one.

Which brings us back to another coach who racked up wins — the afore-mentioned Lombardi.

In 1968, Vince, his burly chest and thick spectacles stepped away from coaching for a year. Bored and unchallenged by life away from the sideline, he emerged with another team after a single-season sabbatical — just as Payton does today.

Lombardi walked into a situation even more woebegone than Denver’s, as Washington hired Lombardi after 13 consecutive years without a winning record.

Washington’s fans expected a miraculous turnaround. Just as Denver’s fans do 54 years later. But Lombardi offered caution. “I can’t walk across the Potomac, even when it’s frozen,” he quipped back then. But, in fact, he could work miracles. He snapped Washington’s skid, going 7-5-2.

Tragically, Lombardi didn’t get the chance to finish the job. Cancer prevented him from being the first coach to win Super Bowls with two different franchises. Don McCafferty, Tom Flores, Mike Ditka, Bill Parcells, Jimmy Johnson, George Seifert, Mike Holmgren, Dick Vermeil, Mike Shanahan and Jon Gruden all tried and failed. Mike McCarthy and Doug Pederson have come up snake eyes so far.

And now the Broncos hope they’ve found the man to change that generation-spanning trend.

Like the great Lombardi, Payton’s in a hurry. So much that his clock starts before the opening bell rings.

He’s always a few minutes ahead. And it’s up to Broncos Country to adjust its clocks and keep up.

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