The Strange Case of Loving Two Football Teams — Even When They’re in the Same Division

Every old school Denver Bronco fan remembers 'The Drive'.

It was the 1986 AFC Championship Game, Denver Broncos vs. Cleveland Browns. The Browns were ahead, the crowd was deafening, and victory seemed theirs for the taking. But then, with 5:32 left on the clock, John Elway and the Broncos took the ball on their own two-yard line and marched 98 yards down the field — cool, steady, and impossible to stop. When Elway threw that touchdown to Mark Jackson, the football world went silent for a second… then erupted. The Broncos had done the unthinkable. Cleveland’s playoff dreams vanished right there on their home turf, and helped Elway earn the moniker “The Comeback Kid.”

And that wasn’t the only time Denver ended Cleveland’s hopes. Over the years, it became almost a cruel football tradition. Another season, another heartbreak for the Browns courtesy of the Broncos. The two teams might not be bitter rivals on paper anymore, but their history sure feels like it sometimes.

How It All Started

I’ve been a Broncos fan as long as I can remember. The first Super Bowl I ever saw was Denver vs. Dallas when I was seven years old. The Cowboys won, and I’ve had no love for them since.

But Denver? They got in my blood early. I had the pleasure of watching John Elway play his entire career with one team, something you don’t see much anymore. I watched him go from 'The Drive', to heartbreaking super bowl losses, and then back-to-back Super Bowl wins before retiring like a true legend.

Even now, living all the way down here in Florida, I still catch every Broncos game I can. Orange and blue forever.

But Then There Were the Browns

Here’s the funny part: after years of watching the Browns lose, sometimes spectacularly.. I started noticing something.

Their fans never gave up.

It didn’t matter how bad the season was (and let’s be honest, there were some rough years). They still showed up. Dog masks, bone yard chants, barking from the Dawg Pound in freezing winds and snowstorms. Those fans didn’t just cheer for a team. They lived it.

It’s easy to love a team when they’re on top. It takes something deeper when you can stay loyal through decades of heartbreak. That’s real fandom. That’s grit.

Even as a kid, I respected that. Maybe because I knew the sting of walking into school or work on Monday morning after a brutal playoff loss, but Cleveland fans took that pain and wore it like a badge of honor. There’s something beautiful in that kind of dedication.

Somewhere Along the Way…

I found myself watching the Browns whenever Denver wasn’t playing.

If the Broncos had a bye week or were playing Monday night, I’d flip on the Browns game. Maybe I just wanted to see how they were doing. Maybe I started rooting for them without even realizing it. Somewhere along the line, they became my “backup team.”

Always one to root for the underdog, I found myself quietly pulling for them. And honestly, I’d love to see the Browns finally win a Super Bowl someday. They’ve earned it — and their fans have most definitely earned it.

A Moment I’ll Never Forget

I once went to a Broncos-Browns game in Denver. The Broncos won handily, and as everyone was filing out of the stadium, a group of young, obnoxious frat boy Denver fans started heckling an older gentleman in a Bernie Kosar jersey. Ten of them, one of him.

The guy just smiled, laughed, and said, “Incredible game, guys!” They shouted louder.

I walked up, patted him on the back, and said, “Don’t pay any attention to these punks. Some of us have a lot of respect for you Browns fans.”

He smiled and said, “It’s all good. It’s just sports and having fun, you know?”

That right there, that’s class. Rivalries are great, but there’s a line between pride and arrogance. The best fans know the difference.

So Who Do I Root For When They Play Each Other?

Easy answer: I’ll always root for the Broncos. That’s family. But if the Browns pull off the win, I can’t even be mad about it. It still stings a little, but I tip my hat and give credit where it’s due.

People think I’m crazy for following two teams, especially ones that share a division. But to me, it just makes the sport richer. I get to appreciate different fan cultures, different cities, and different styles of football.

Variety really is the spice of life, and in my case, that variety happens to wear both orange and brown.

The Thing About Bandwagon Fans

Maybe that’s why I’ve never had much patience for bandwagon fans. The ones who switch teams the second the scoreboard starts looking good. Sure, it’s fun to celebrate a championship, but it’s a whole different kind of joy when you’ve sat through the years of heartbreak that came before it.

I guess that’s what I love about both the Broncos and the Browns: loyalty. Whether it’s in Denver, where fans still worship the Mile High Magic, or in Cleveland, where hope never freezes over. There’s a sense of sticking with something, because it means something.

That’s the kind of fandom that reminds me why I fell in love with football in the first place. It’s not just about who’s winning this season. It’s about showing up year after year, through snow, losses, and rebuilds — because that’s your team. And even if you’ve got room in your heart for two of them, as I do, the love runs just as deep either way.