As predictions go, this one wasn't particularly bold. After all, the opponents of the CU Buffaloes on this cold and snowy afternoon were...the CU Buffaloes. The spring game is essentially a glorified scrimmage, a showcase intended to build interest for the upcoming season by letting the public watch Colorado players tee off against each other.
In the recent past, the event generated excitement levels that ranged from mild to nonexistent, with last year representing a low ebb; the spring game attendance in 2022 was estimated at 1,950, and that count probably included visiting parents asking for directions to their kid's dorm.
But 2023 is different thanks to one man: Deion Sanders, who was hired last December to coach the Buffs.
The size of Sanders's task can't be overstated: The dreadful CU squad he inherited managed just one win in its last season. But the man who calls himself Coach Prime is accustomed to challenges. At his previous stop, Jackson State University, he turned the venerable HBCU into a gridiron juggernaut, as documented in a four-part series currently streaming on Amazon.
Bros seen posing with security personnel packing automatic weapons and a look at one of Folsom Field's entry points.
Photos by Michael Roberts
Yes, Sanders boasts an ego as large as a solar system, but somehow, his narcissism hasn't rendered him unlikable. Although a percentage of academics have long complained about the amount of money that the university spends on athletics, there's been shockingly little criticism of the five-year, $29.5 million contract he received.
Granted, the Buffs won't take the field in a meaningful contest for months. But so far, Coach Prime is also Coach Teflon — and the fact that a throng of 47,277 showed up to watch what Allen Iverson famously derided as practice only enhances his reputation.
The atmosphere around the stadium as the masses gathered was positively electric. A nearby parking lot was jammed with tailgating fans happily dulling their senses — one group of bros was chugging from what appeared to be a gallon-sized bottle of tequila — or chowing down on grub supplied by local eateries taking advantage of the contest's unexpected popularity.
Security was high. When they weren't posing with fans, police officers outfitted with absurdly oversized automatic weapons prowled the grounds, keeping a close eye on the flood of humanity being ushered through rows of metal detectors.
The majority rocked CU colors, including yours truly. My outfit consisted of a promotional T-shirt from a CU basketball game (the "O" in its "Go Buffs" message is a Pepsi logo), a CU turtleneck, a lined CU jacket, a CU baseball cap, black pants, three pairs of black socks, black-and-gold high-top Adidas and black underwear, which didn't include anything golden, mostly because my nether regions were frozen.
Accompanying me were my daughters, Lora and Ellie, a pair of CU Boulder grads whose time at the school (2011-2015) didn't coincide with football greatness. I last went to a game in their company back in 2014, when CU managed to lose to UCLA (which I attended) in triple overtime, 40-37. But that was a helluva better performance than the first I witnessed at Folsom Field, back on October 21, 1978. That day, the Buffs were facing the heavily favored Nebraska Cornhuskers, yet somehow they jumped out to a 14-3 lead thanks in part to a 100-yard kickoff return by Howard Ballage. I remember thinking that CU had a chance to pull off an upset — at least until Nebraska reeled off 49 consecutive points en route to a 52-14 victory.
The stadium for that massacre had started out full, but that hasn't been the case over the past decade or so, when games often started with less than a third of the seats filled; students tended to arrive already inebriated in the second quarter and leave feeling hung over by the third. So the fact that Folsom was close to capacity more than half an hour before spring-game festivities got underway qualified as jaw-dropping.
Predictably, Sanders was the center of attention. He wore a white cowboy hat that made him visible from every conceivable vantage point and planted himself in the middle of the field, where he could be seen dancing, exhorting his charges or greeting notables in attendance. Instagram video of Sanders with rapper Rick Ross (the headliner of this year's 4/20 festival) the day before raised hopes that the sidelines would be jammed with hip-hop royalty, but I didn't see any microphone maestros pop up on the field's Jumbotron. Instead, the cameras caught images of talent from ESPN, which broadcast the game, including CU grad Chris Fowler and former quarterback Robert Griffin III, plus ex-Denver Broncos legend Terrell Davis, now with the NFL Network.
Also on hand were loads of former CU players, many of them also past and current NFL players: Kordell Stewart, Michael Westbrook, Alfred Williams, Green Bay Packers David Bakhtiari and Mason Crosby, Chidobe Awuzie of the Cincinnati Bengals, and many more.
The saddest absence: Ralphie, CU's buffalo mascot, who didn't make her trademark run prior to the game because conditions had rendered the field too slick. But compensation arrived in the form of tiny Peggy Coppom, CU super fan; she and her late twin sister, Betty Hoover, are beloved on campus and beyond. Sanders escorted Coppom to mid-field, where she took part in an honorary first kick.
Her boot went several feet and was frankly more impressive than the efforts of CU's actual kickers, whose offerings never got close to the end zone — and an extra-point try was blocked.
The format of the "contest" called for possessions pitting the first-team offense against the second-team defense, the second-team offense against the first-team defense, the third-team offense against the third-team defense and so on. But evaluating most of the individuals on the field was a fool's errand, particularly since Sanders has made it clear that he's still hoping to lure more standouts from other schools to CU via the transfer portal. Hence, a lot of the ballers on the field likely won't be around this fall.
An exception was Shedeur Sanders, who showed signs of real talent; his short throws were accurate, by and large, and he's got an arm big enough to stretch the field. He's clearly his dad's not-so-secret weapon, and one of the main reasons that CU should notch more than one W in 2023.
Still, the activities in the stands were more intriguing than those between the lines, in part because of aerial projectiles; the snow hadn't been cleared from the seats, and plenty of attendees took advantage of the situation to hurl snowballs at the unsuspecting folks below. A scolding announcement over the public-address system slowed but didn't stop the barrage.
The pre-game tailgating atmosphere continued inside Balch Fieldhouse, where plenty of Prime merchandise and adult beverages were available.
Photos by Michael Roberts
In the end, though, the on-field drills weren't exactly scintillating, and when halftime came along, thousands headed toward the concession area in the stadium or to Balch Fieldhouse, where drinkers were once forced to imbibe. We found plenty of folks guzzling there for old times' sake while others shopped for branded CU merchandise emblazoned with the word "Prime."
Such purchases are unlikely to have covered Sanders's salary yet, but there's still time.
After the third period, I followed my daughters to the CU bookstore. They once had a large amount of Buffs gear, but much of it had disappeared since their graduation, and they were ready to restock. Lora bought a hoodie, and Ellie purchased a cap along with a water bottle, while the conclusion of the spring game aired on monitors placed in strategic locations throughout the retail space.
Turns out that drunken fan was right. CU did win.
