SCOTTSDALE, Ariz. — Broncos quarterback Peyton Manning and Rockies slugger Todd Helton are best friends forever. They love each other like brothers. Their friendship runs deep, but not quite as deep as a post pattern. And that might explain why Helton had to quit Manning’s football team, before the quarterback cut him.

“I can’t catch. Catch a football? No way,” Helton confessed. “Now, you give me my first baseman’s glove, and I can catch a baseball. But when Manning throws a football? That’s not for me. It hurts your hands too much.”

Manning and Helton are the twin craggy faces of Denver sports. They are our classic rockers of athletic excellence, as big in the Rocky Mountains as the Front Range bookends of Pikes Peak and Longs Peak … and almost as old.

“Helton?” said Manning, trying to explain their BFF status. “We both love the University of Tennessee. We both played quarterback there. We’re kind of the same age and have been doing this for a long time. We know how much work it takes and how much time you have to put into it.”

When searching for a new NFL team, was it any surprise the place Manning looked first was Denver? Helton made Colorado seem like home for a veteran quarterback who cherishes simple comfort more than big-city slickness. They know each other’s pain, and shared fears that could have pushed either star into premature retirement.

Manning has thrown 399 touchdown passes as a pro. Helton owns a .323 career batting average. But numbers fail to tell the whole story. In an era of crass, Helton and Manning exude pure class.

“Good to meet you. I’m Peyton,” Manning said last week. He offered me a handshake on the afternoon he joined the Broncos, as if a quarterback who has won a Super Bowl and four MVP awards with Indianapolis needed any introduction.

“Yeah, his parents raised him right,” said Helton, voice full of admiration.

Then, with comedic timing that would do the late, great John Belushi proud, Helton arched an eyebrow.

“But as soon as you turn your back, he’ll give you grief,” Helton deadpanned.

And isn’t this the definition of a true friend: He’s the one guy who can rip you in a way that might get a stranger punched, but instead has you rolling on the floor with laughter?

“We’ve lived similar lives, so we can relate to each other. And we’re both obsessive about our jobs,” said Helton, who surrendered his job as quarterback for the Tennessee Vols to Manning back in the 1990s. “I’ve never been a guy who has been sure of myself, and that’s what drives me. But he is way more driven than I am. Way more.”

While Manning was recovering from four neck surgeries that threatened his NFL career and ultimately forced him out of Indianapolis, he worked on his throwing at Duke University. One of the volunteers who showed up to catch passes was Helton. How does a 38-year-old first baseman run a hitch-and-go route?

“Very slowly,” Helton said.

But as fast as you can say “Saturday Night Live,” the sight of Manning throwing to a baseball slugger quickly turned into a scene that eerily and hilariously imitated a 2007 “SNL” skit that featured the star quarterback in a parody of the NFL’s popular United Way public service announcements.

In the skit, Manning showed up at a playground to teach kids the power of teamwork through football, only to quickly go all Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde on the children, screaming when they drop pass after pass. “I can’t even look at you!” Manning shouted at an offending young boy, banishing him from the huddle. “You know what? Go sit in the Port-A-Let for 20 minutes.”

Helton can relate. He quickly felt the sting of the perfectionist that burns fiercely in the 36-year-old Manning.

“Baseball is a totally different mind-set than football, and for good reason. I mean, in his sport, they’re trying to kill each other,” said Helton, who felt like hiding in the portable potty himself after two days of playing for Team Manning.

“I was lost on a few of the routes. He tells you one time how to do it, and expects you to know what you’re doing. He kept calling for a check down. And I didn’t know where to go. I kept saying: ‘What the heck are you talking about?’ “

In one important way, a pro locker room is no different than the one you knew in high school. Nothing beats having a teammate on your side. The humor is a male defense mechanism to hide the underlying affection.

Manning is one of the few men who might truly appreciate how scared Helton was by chronic back pain that nearly stole one of the sweetest hitting strokes in the big leagues.

“What (Helton) went through with his back a couple years ago is real. Everybody realizes how hard it was. And I could tell he wasn’t sure there for a while,” Manning said. “Todd’s a guy I’ve always had a great relationship with.”

When nerve damage made it hard for him to grip a football, guess who was there for Manning?

“I came out here for a week during the lockout, and he opened the Rockies’ facility to me,” Manning recalled. “There’s no way I could’ve let a baseball player in our facility for a week during the NFL season. And he said: ‘Here, have at it.’ For the friend he was to me on that, I’m grateful.”

Despite owning a championship ring, Manning wants to get back to the Super Bowl once, twice, maybe even three more times with the Broncos. What drives Helton is a desire to recapture the magic of Rocktober and get a final crack at the World Series.

While all of Denver will cheer for two old pros, there’s nothing sweeter than two old friends daring each other to dream of the glory days ahead.

Mark Kiszla: 303-954-1053 or mkiszla@denverpost.com