John E. Be Good

This was not about Denver. This was not about Atlanta. This was not about Miami.

This was about Montana.

Of all the places represented here on a glorious evening Sunday, John Elway clutched and tugged and dramatically dragged us to the one most unimaginable.

To the man considered the greatest quarterback ever.

To a point where we must now wonder if it is him.

Creating as many memories as he summoned, a supposedly slipping hero turned a farewell party into a passionate, three-hour lecture.

During a 34-19 victory by his Denver Broncos over the Atlanta Falcons in Super Bowl XXXIII, John Elway’s voice carried through the balmy South Florida sky like a hurricane warning.

I’m not finished, he screamed with a pass that twirled 50 yards before landing in the arms of Rod Smith for an eventual touchdown.

Here’s your weak link, he shouted with a three-yard dive across the grass through 300-pounders for another touchdown.

These were the same sorts of words that Joe Montana, generally considered the greatest quarterback ever, once used in games like these.

These were also his actions.

This is a champion, Elway finally stated Sunday with a stroll off the field with 49 seconds remaining.

His helmet was off so the 74,803 fans at Pro Player Stadium could see his messy blond hair and shining face. His arms were raised so they could share his joy.

“That’s the kind of walk you kind of dream of as a kid,” he said. “That’s a walk I’ll remember for the rest of my life.”

It was so perfect; near-flawless passing for 336 yards, his first Super Bowl MVP award, his second consecutive Super Bowl triumph, his 16th year of trying . . .

“If it was me,” said Denver center Tom Nalen, “you would never see me anymore.”

That was the plan. Before the game, Elway was about 99% certain that he was retiring afterward.

Even standing on the sidelines during Cher’s emotional rendition of the national anthem, tears trickling out the sides of his eyes, he looked like a man beginning one last slow walk.

“I thanked God I could be here,” he said.

But seemingly as quick as bullets to Smith and Shannon Sharpe in the first 12 minutes that led to the Broncos’ first touchdown, that plan changed.

Suddenly he wasn’t 38, he was 28. And this was not a walk, it was a sprint.

Much later, Neil Smith grabbed Elway as he walked off the field for the last time here and reminded him of his accomplishments.

From the stands, you could see Elway turning Smith around and patting him furiously on the back.

“I told him, ‘Gimme some back to back, because we just did back to back,’ ” Smith said. “It was special.”

But it can be even more special.

Now that his team has a chance to become the first in NFL history to win three consecutive Super Bowls, now that a man who loves challenges has just been presented with an ultimate one . . .

In the end, for a farewell party, this one set the unofficial record for fewest goodbyes.

“This definitely throws a kink in it,” Elway said, putting the retirement on hold. “You’ve got to love those challenges.”

Indeed he does. If the world had forgotten this about Elway, the world has now remembered.

It started last week, the talk from the Falcons that they needed only to stop Terrell Davis, the buzz that Elway had gone cold.

Citing Elway’s struggles in the AFC championship game against the New York Jets, I agreed with the Falcons that Elway could be their downfall.

By the end of the Broncos’ first series, a touchdown drive in which he hit on three of four passes with one dropped ball for 67 yards, those words were worth far less than 25 cents.

“We heard all week that the Falcons were going to make John Elway beat them,” said Rod Smith with a smile. “To me, in my opinion, that was just dumb. That was a challenge.”

Elway relished it, dodging the supposedly fearsome Atlanta defensive linemen even with no blockers in the backfield, dumping enough passes to stun their tough linebackers.

And, yes, he kicked a prone Eugene Robinson, the Atlanta safety who was arrested Saturday night for soliciting a prostitute.

Robinson was beaten or missed tackles on three key plays in the first half, including the 80-yard touchdown pass to Rod Smith.

Said Elway: “I don’t think we were doing anything to him specifically, but, in this game, you take advantage of every little thing you have.”

Rod Smith translated that bit of political correctness with, “I was kind of happy when I heard what had happened to (Robinson), because we knew it might weigh on them a little bit.”

And to think, in typical Elway fashion, the touchdown play was not even in the playbook. Elway noticed Robinson cheating to the line of scrimmage, told the coaches, and they made the Falcons pay.

“I want Elway to stick around just because I want to keep learning from him,” Smith said.

After his sneak gave the Broncos a 31-6 lead early in the fourth quarter, Elway ran off the field pumping his fist like Kirk Gibson once did.

With 1:34 remaining, the fans erupted in the baseball-type chant of “El-way, El-way, El-way.”

About the only thing that didn’t work was a final minutes pass to Smith that would have given Elway the 22 yards necessary to pass Montana for the most single-game passing yards in Super Bowl history.

Smith turned inside, Elway threw long and outside.

“My fault,” said Elway, shrugging. “But I didn’t know about the record.”

It was Elway’s inability to imitate Montana on this stage that always kept him in his shadow.

The complexion has changed.

Elway now has half of Montana’s four Super Bowl victories, and has played in one more Super Bowl game (five), and on Sunday finally won a Super Bowl MVP.

Add this to career statistics that are matched only by title-free Dan Marino, and let the arguing begin.

While Montana had the likes of Jerry Rice, John Taylor and Roger Craig, Elway succeeded Sunday by throwing to the likes of third-string tight end Byron Chamberlain and Howard Griffith, and handing to Derek Loville.

Davis was often stopped. Sharpe left after the first quarter with a knee injury. Elway ruled.

“The best ever?” asked Denver veteran Seth Joyner. “You look at what both guys have worked with and, yeah, Elway had to be considered ahead of Joe Montana.”

From a postgame interview podium, the supposedly slipping hero smiled, sighed and said, “I am just relishing the moment.”

“We’ll see you tomorrow,” said an official, ending postgame interviews. “When you pick out your car.”

“Just what I need,” said Elway, one of Denver’s largest auto dealers. “Another car.”

Then John Elway laughed. And despite security guards asking him to follow them to the locker room, he stayed right there.

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Bill Plaschke can be reached at bill.plaschke@latimes. com.