DENVER — All at once they were inside a snow globe; this entire little world of 76,000 people here in Denver, whipped up in a cyclone of powdery fluff. In the gap between the south end zone and the start of the west stands that usually offers a window into the universe beyond, there was no visibility. The sky took on the color of stagnant pond water and offered as much visibility as a thick hotel privacy curtain.
And what a place it became. Snow blowers on the field revealing lines that would be covered again in seconds. The chorus of Bohemian Rhapsody blaring through the stadium speakers. A digital billboard at Mile High advertising skiing in the Swiss Alps, as if the action wouldn’t have been better on the slick and slushy exit ramps out of the stadium.
