SANTA CLARA, Calif. — The game was already over, in theory if not yet on the scoreboard. There were 3 minutes and 8 seconds left in Super Bowl 50, and the Broncos had just taken a 22-10 lead, and the heavily pro-Denver segments among the crowd of 71,088 inside Levi’s Stadium had already begun to celebrate.

Peyton Manning, one last time, waved his arms, gathered his offense around him. The little card that tells coaches what to do told Gary Kubiak to go for two here; it was no surprise that Manning didn’t need that prompting. Manning had spent so much of the afternoon channeling Trent Dilfer, trying to manage the game, trying — and failing a few times — just to stay out of the way.

“I’m thankful,” he would say, “that they let me along for the ride.”

Now, seeking two, he was able to channel someone else: Peyton Manning. He was able to get the ball out of his hands quick, able to zip it to receiver Bennie Fowler, able to bisect the “1” and the “6” on Fowler’s jersey. It was an afterthought play, a footnote play, the play that finalized this 24-10 victory for the Broncos and gave Denver its third Lombardi Trophy and Manning his second.

So one last time, we got to see what we remembered.

Maybe that’s what Manning himself will remember, too, assuming this really is his last hurrah — and let’s be very frank about this: it needs to be his last hurrah. Maybe.

It took this likely swan song of a season for Manning to understand what other, lesser quarterbacks have learned across the years, what Bob Griese and Terry Bradshaw and Jim McMahon were able to discover, and Phil Simms, and the great Kenny Stabler, voted into the Hall of Fame on the eve of this Super Bowl.

Because being part of a great team is like being part of a great ensemble on a great TV show, on “ER,” on “West Wing,” on “The Sopranos,” on “Fargo.” This is what Manning was given, as a lovely parting gift to a legendary career: the opportunity to share the spotlight that has so often locked only on him, to be a bit player, to be a contributing actor, not the leading man.

“I think this is a great team with a great defense,” said the man who put the team together, John Elway, “and we do just enough on offense.”

It’s inevitable that people will give Manning more credit for this second Super Bowl than he deserves, because that’s who Manning is and that’s the position he plays. He isn’t just great, he’s famous; not just famous but wildly popular. People like these kinds of stories. They like to see old guys take their final bow on the stage.

Particularly this old guy.

But if you’ve seen these Broncos you know the stars are all on defense. You know that Von Miller may be the most impactful defender since Lawrence Taylor was young and carved out of lightning and doing things from the linebacker position nobody had ever believed possible before, and that his was as deserving an MVP award as the sport allows.

You know DeMarcus Ware remains a force. You know that Wade Phillips, the well-traveled coordinator who was once the head coach here, has figured a way to make all of this work this season, figuring out how to peak at the precise time.

And Manning?

Well, he’ll always have Super Bowl XLI, when he was the deserving MVP. He’ll always have those five MVP Awards, and the time he flat stole “Saturday Night Live,” and his place as a forever icon not only of pro football but of pop culture. He’ll surely have the nearly 72,000 passing yards and the 539 touchdown passes (to just 251 picks). Those are his forever, for keeps.

But he’s also as smart a football mind as there’s ever been. He WAS along for the ride this year; if anything the interception and the lost fumble Sunday did more to compromise the happy ending than craft it. He surely knows the way the Broncos’ defense corralled and humbled Cam Newton was the single-most important development of the 50th Super Bowl.

And knows something else: in 10 years, in 30, in 50, nobody will much care that he looked ordinary. Because his teammates lifted him higher than he could possibly have lifted himself. Great teams do that. The Broncos did that. For Peyton. And for each other.

“I’m very grateful,” he said afterward. Sometimes it’s hard for stars to understand that you don’t have to be the biggest reason your team touches the sky, just one of the reasons.

And they call you the same thing when you do. They call you champion. Not a bad parting gift.