My Colts story

I was happy too see the Indianapolis Colts pull it out yesterday and come from behind and beat the New England Patriots for the right to go to the Super Bowl.

When I lived in Indiana (affectionately known as the worst 365 days of my), I was a sports reporter for The Herald Bulletin, and being so close to Indy, I was given the opportunity to go down and cover the Colts.

I remember the first time I went down. I was 22, fresh out of college. Probably not what the team was expecting.

When I walked into the locker room, there were two defensive ends, standing in front of their lockers, shooting the breeze with each other as they got dressed. They saw me come in, their eyes got wide and they looked totally embarrassed as they wrapped their towels around their waists.

Sorry guys, even if I was impressed with what I saw, you didn't have to worry that I'd be going around Indy, bragging about how I saw your package.

Cause I didn't even know who you were.

And honestly, half of the team in the locker room was walking around in a towel. There were many mostly naked men in there and most were quite willing to talk to reporters (both male and female) in very little clothing.

But Peyton. He was a different story.

Of course everyone wanted to talk to the quarterback who just lead the team in a so-so, unexciting win over the Houston Texans (I think the score ended up being 9-6).

But Peyton made us wait.

Apparently Mr. Manning will not even look at a reporter until he's showered, shaved, dried off and fully dressed in shirt, tie and suit jacket. Then Mr. Manning will speak. And the media listens.

I listened to Peyton. His southern drawl. Quite a nice voice.

Then I got brave and tried to ask a question.

Mr. Manning's response.

"What are you trying to ask?"

And I just left it at that, said never mind, backed my way out of the swarm of media surrounding Peyton and ran back up to the press box to wait for the media relations folks to distribute selected quotes and comments from players and coaches.