The real MVP of the Broncos rolled his eyes with disdain. 'Trap games?' said veteran safety Brian Dawkins, spitting out the words like a moldy piece of cheese. 'We are in the last part of the season and trying to position ourselves to do what we need to do game by game. How can you have a trap game? There is no such thing as a trap game this late in the season.' The true MVP hits the Oakland Raiders and tackles questions he doesn't like precisely the same way: so hard it hurts. In fact, if Dawkins played football any harder, this safety would probably shatter in 20 million pieces. Then, of course, the 36-year-old veteran would pick himself up, glue himself together and haul himself back to the huddle. 'Dawk' is tougher than an encyclopedia of Chuck Norris jokes. We know the universe is infinite because it's afraid to live in the same galaxy as Brian Dawkins. Even Broncomaniacs who still miss Mike Shanahan have to give Josh McDaniels one thing: The single most important personnel move made by the rookie coach during his first year on the job in Denver was not trading Jay Cutler. It was acquiring Dawkins. And if you can't comprehend why, you don't understand football. It's as obvious as the difference between a winner and loser. Dawkins preaches love for the game with the righteousness of a church deacon and walks away from every game like a broken-down cowboy who has been thrown for the last time from a Brahma bull. The no-doubt MVP of this surprising Denver team goes to work with such ferocity it makes your teeth ache just to watch. Cornerback Champ Bailey has been blessed with more pure athletic ability than Dawkins. Receiver Brandon Marshall will establish more league records than Dawkins. Linebacker Elvis Dumervil is a no-brainer as an invitee to the Pro Bowl, while Dawkins might get overlooked. But the single player most essential to the Broncos' development as a playoff contender is 'Dawk.' Meaning zero disrespect to the professionalism of many no-nonsense players such as tight end Daniel Graham and center Casey Wiegmann, but there was a distinct vibe in the locker room during the final seasons of the Shanahan era that guys who wore the Denver uniform did not always care as much about winning as the folks who bought tickets. You can debate whether Kyle Orton is the long-term answer at quarterback or whether the defense utilizes too many spare parts in the trenches, but there's no denying McDaniels has re-established passion in the team and demanded commitment from everybody who takes the field. The new attitude is personified best by this team's unquestioned MVP. 'That type of leadership and passion and intensity at any position, I think it inspires other guys to play like he does,' said McDaniels, saluting Dawkins' insatiable hunger for victory. 'I think other players see how important it is to him. And that's what I think it is. It's a demonstration of how much he cares.' With every brick-crushing tackle and each loud declaration of faith in the locker room, 'Dawk' stokes the spirit of a football team. Without him, I'm convinced the Broncos could not believe in the possibilities of success as firmly as they do. So let's beat the Christmas rush and tell those Eagles thanks for Dawkins, the gift that keeps on hitting. Throughout the history of pro football in Denver, this franchise has been blessed with more memory-stamping safeties than any other position on the field. From Billy Thompson to Dennis Smith to Steve Atwater, it has been hazardous to the health of anybody foolhardy enough to catch a football over the middle against the Broncos for going on 40 years now. No disrespect to any of the bone-rattling Denver safeties in the Ring of Fame. But not a single one of those blasts from the past was a tougher football player than 'Dawk.' Welcome to the club. 