There are a lot of strange things about life as a pro athlete, but perhaps none more anomalous than the traveling experience.
When you go on a work trip, no matter how many frequent-flyer miles you have, you probably don’t get a line of motorcycle cops to lead your car through red lights and direct the traffic to the shoulder to let you pass. You also likely don’t get to drive right up onto the tarmac at the airport and pull up next to the airplane, where you get to walk up the stairs like the POTUS and have the flight attendants greet you by name. You probably don’t get the same seat every time, and before take-off, they probably make you put your tray table and your seat back up.
When you arrive at your destination, you probably don’t walk off the plane and right onto another bus, with another police escort awaiting you there to zoom you through rush hour traffic. When people on the freeway see you coming through on your bus, they probably don’t recognize you and lean out of the window, extending a certain finger in your direction because they support your competitor instead of you.
When you arrive at the hotel, no matter how many Marriott points you have, you’re likely not given a private entrance, and you’re also likely not sequestered on the same floor as all of your colleagues, a floor manned with security at every exit to ensure that no one comes to visit you in your room, and that you don’t decide to leave the floor after bed checks. That’s right — bed checks.
Your company might be strict, but it’s not strict enough to keep you from leaving your room at night, or prevent a loved one from stopping by for a quick hello. There is a lobby that can serve that purpose, after all, and sleep is important, especially when your job is running full speed into one another for three hours on national television.
Including preseason, there are only 10 road trips a year. That’s 10 nights on the road, maybe a few more if you’re traveling to an East Coast city and decide to leave a day early. During my time with Mike Shanahan, we rarely left on Friday. We’d fly in on Saturday afternoon and arrive to the hotel around 4 p.m. Dinner and meetings at 7 p.m. The final meeting ended around 9:15 p.m. Then a late night snack, followed by bed checks at 11:15 p.m. The next morning, we’d wake up and go to breakfast, then you’d get to choose which bus you wanted to be on: The early-early bus, the middle bus or the last bus. I was a middle-bus guy. And when we arrived at our office for the day, lots of intoxicated enthusiasts greeted us with more of those extended fingers, and some even threw eggs at our bus. After the game, we showered, got on the bus, went straight to the airport and flew home — a flight made more jovial after a win.
Sometimes the distraction of being at home can drain you as a player. Family in town. Friends. Ticket requests. It can be overwhelming. I always loved going on the road. You pack your bag. You pick out the new suit you just bought that your friends will make fun of you for. You get the music and the headphones, maybe a book or a magazine. Do I sound old? A magazine? Do they still make those? Okay, so you get your iPad, you do your hair and you get on the bus, then you look out the window and reflect on the uniqueness of a journey that has landed you in a vehicle being led through the city by a police escort.
It’s a shared experience for players that brings them closer together — and for these Broncos, about to be on the road together for the next 10 days, it will be a much-needed bonding experience. To win in the NFL, it’s not enough to just be good football players. You have to care about one another. There has to be trust. It has to be a family. And families take road trips.
“Dad! Are we there yet?!”
About the Author: Former NFL wide receiver and tight end Nate Jackson played six seasons for the Broncos and is the author of the New York Times Best Selling book “Slow Getting Up.”
This post was originally published on here
