There’s only one way for an NFL defense to make a name for itself: one good rocking hit at a time.
In Denver’s 30-10 victory against Kansas City, the hits just kept on coming. The Broncos’ defense wears blue. They are the Bruise Brothers.
On Monday night, with the whole country watching, there was nowhere for the Chiefs to run. Or hide.
Linebacker Al Wilson had K.C. back Priest Holmes praying for mercy.
When defensive end Trevor Pryce returns to the Pro Bowl for the fifth time, people will remember his trip to Hawaii began here.
But who was that little guy, as pesky as a gnat buzzing around every receiver wearing a visiting uniform?
Hello, Broncos Nation. Welcome No. 27 to the brotherhood. His name will soon be stitched in block letters across the replica jersey of every hip Broncomaniac.
“My name,” the rookie cornerback recently informed me, “is Darrent Williams. It’s my dad’s middle name. That’s where I got it. Darrent means greatness.”
Greatness is hard to find. And, sometimes, it’s even tougher to pronounce.
“People have not been able to pronounce the name my whole life. My whole life,” said Williams. His last name is easy. But intelligent folks, even trained ESPN broadcasters, have been known to stumble badly on his first name.
“Everybody gets my name wrong. I’m used to it by now. On the first day of school, teachers have never been able to pronounce it,” said a laughing Williams, who smiles more than the Mona Lisa.
For those of you practicing your elocution at home, the proper pronunciation is DARE-ent. It shouldn’t be that hard. Write it down on a notecard. Say it three times in front of a mirror. Got it?
It’s DARE-ent, as in I dare you to throw that darn pass in his direction.
It’s DARE-ent, as in I dare you to punt in any ZIP code where he’s standing.
It’s DARE-ent, as in I dare you to forget Williams.
Williams earned his first NFL regular-season start. In front of the ABC cameras and John Madden and everybody. Nice coming-out party.
Pro football is big, to say nothing of mean. In this game, a 5-foot-8 cornerback is dangerously small.
Williams stands 4 inches shorter than actress Geena Davis, the most gorgeous of all the beautiful people spotted among the Invesco Field at Mile High in-crowd.
Make a name for himself? Tiny Williams must be special to get noticed at all.
Kids who love Nuggets point guard Earl Boykins for being a little giant will absolutely adore Williams.
Coach Mike Shanahan’s genius has been tarnished on draft day. But give him kudos for selecting Williams in the second round. This will prove to be the smartest Denver selection since running back Clinton Portis in 2002.
Enduring defensive reputations cannot be cemented until January. In September, all we have is impressions.
But those impressions rocked the Chiefs, with the same happy noise this band of Denver brothers gave five-day bruises to San Diego a week earlier.
Guess defensive coordinator Larry Coyer might be able to draw a legible “X” and “O” after all.
This much I know is true. This Denver offense won’t make anybody forget John Elway or Terrell Davis. But this defense can be the first since the Orange Crush to be worthy of a nickname. You’re smarter than me. Submit your nominations now.
“I like this team,” Wilson told a skeptical listener late last week, accurately predicting that this defense would put an emphatic end to Denver’s recent frustrations on “Monday Night Football.” How did he know?
“It’s just a feeling you get about a team after being around football for so long. It’s kind of hard to put your finger on one particular thing,” Wilson said. “But it’s the feeling you get when you’re around these guys.”
Get hooked on the feeling.
The Chiefs got all tangled up in blue.
With the Bruise Brothers, the hits are going to keep on coming.
Rock on.
Staff writer Mark Kiszla can be reached at 303-820-5438 or mkiszla@denverpost.com.
