Mile High Stadium Bag Policy

You know that feeling. You’re finally walking up to Mile High Stadium, the air smells like victory and overpriced hot dogs, and you’re ready to scream your lungs out for the Broncos. But then you see the bag check line. It snakes around like a python that just ate a bad burrito. And you realize your cute little crossbody purse is about to become a security hostage.

Let’s be honest, the Mile High Stadium bag policy is the strictest bouncer in Denver. It’s not just a “suggested guideline”—it’s a contract written in invisible ink that you only discover when you’re three people from the gate. Every single bag must be smaller than 4.5 inches by 6.5 inches. That’s not even big enough for a burrito, let alone your wallet and phone.

If you show up with a backpack that’s larger than a loaf of bread, you’ll be sent back to your car. Or worse, you’ll have to pay $20 to stuff it into a sketchy locker that smells like regret and last year’s nachos. I once saw a guy try to argue with security that his fanny pack was “vintage and tiny.” The guard just pointed to a laminated card with a ruler. No mercy.

The Clear Bag Conspiracy

Here’s the golden rule: clear bags only. You want a purse? Fine, but it must be see-through, like a fishbowl for your junk. So now every woman in the stadium looks like she’s carrying a Ziploc bag filled with life’s sad necessities: a chapstick, some emergency Tums, and a phone charger that no one else can use.

I call it the “See-Through Security Tax.” You pay $15 for a clear tote at the team store, and suddenly you’re a walking advertisement for the Broncos’ most paranoid policy. My buddy Dave brought a clear bag once, and it was so small his wallet peeked out the top. He spent the whole game holding it like a wounded bird.

And don’t even get me started on the “clutch” loophole. Technically, you can bring a non-clear bag if it’s the size of your hand. But that “hand” is defined by a security guard with giant mitts. I got turned away with a clutch that was literally the size of my palm. The guard pointed at the bag, then at his ear. “That doesn’t match, sir.” My palm is a liar, apparently.

State Farm Stadium Bag Policy: Clear Bag Rules & Restrictions

A Pocket-Sized Survival Guide

So what do you do? You adapt. You become a pocket wizard. You shove your car keys into your front jeans pocket, your phone into your back pocket, and your wallet into your compression shorts. You look like you’re smuggling a small computer in your crotch, but that’s the price of entry.

I once saw a dad duct-tape his daughter’s camera to his chest hair. That’s the Mile High spirit: if it doesn’t fit in your pants, it doesn’t fit in the stadium. And forget about bringing a water bottle. That comes with its own drama—unless it’s sealed and empty, in which case you carry a hollow trophy all game.

Here’s my best tip: just wear cargo pants. I know, they’re not fashionable. But you can fit two beers, a vape, and a foam finger in those pockets. You’ll look like a hiker, but you’ll be free from the bag line. The only downside? Every time you sit down, your phone rockets out of the pocket and hits your neighbor’s knee.

Empower Field at Mile High Bag Policy - Denver Broncos | TSR

The Game Day Grift

Let’s talk about the rental lockers outside the stadium. They cost $20 bucks, and they’re basically metal gym lockers that haven’t been cleaned since the 1990s. I paid to stuff my backpack into one, and when I came back, the inside smelled like a gym sock and a dead battery. I still have nightmares.

You could also just leave your bag in the car, but then you’re walking back to your parking spot in the dark, past that one drunk guy who keeps yelling about “the refs.” It’s a choose-your-own-adventure of mild panic. The bag policy forces you to decide: do I value my snacks or my dignity more?

My wife now brings a clear bag that’s so small she can’t fit her sunglasses case. So she just wears the sunglasses on the back of her head, like an owl with a migraine. It’s not a look, it’s a survival tactic. And you know what? It works. She gets through security in 12 seconds flat, while I’m still patting down my cargo pants for the third time.

Empower Field at Mile High Bag Policy: Permitted and Prohibited Items

The Final (Clear) Verdict

Look, the Mile High Stadium bag policy is a pain. It’s like having to fill out tax forms before you can cheer for a touchdown. But once you’re inside, with the roar of 76,000 people and the smell of popcorn, you forget all about it. Until you need a tissue and realize it’s trapped in the car alongside your dignity.

So pack light. Wear pockets. And if you see a guy in cargo pants duct-taping a camera to his chest, give him a nod. He’s been through the bag gauntlet and lived to tell the tale. Welcome to Mile High. Just don’t bring a bag bigger than your soul.

P.S. If you’re bringing a diaper bag, you get a free pass. But it must be baby-related. Don’t try to hide a six-pack in the diaper section. Security has seen that trick. They have a sixth sense for deception—and dirty diapers.