ENGLEWOOD • Right after Steve Atwater demonstrated a proper tackle by tackling me, causing my palms to sweat, we discussed the tackle. The tackle on “Monday Night Football.” The tackle we’re still talking about 27 years and 354 days later.

It was the tackle where Atwater stood up Christian Okoye straight, as if the Broncos legend had the Chiefs’ 250-pound running back on a list.

“You mean the one from the ‘60s?” Atwater said with a laugh.

NFL rules now prohibit players from lowering their helmet to initiate contact. After he reviewed the YouTube clip, I had to ask: would the Okoye hit be a legal tackle in the NFL in 2018?

“No, no, no,” Atwater said with full conviction. “It wouldn’t. It would be a penalty.”

When it comes to Atwater’s candidacy, there should be a flag thrown on Pro Football Hall of Fame voters. Can you explain how a franchise with a defense nicknamed the “Orange Crush” and eight Super Bowl appearances still has zero defensive players enshrined in the Hall of Fame?

I sure can’t.

Now the NFL is poking an experimental finger at the core of the game: what’s a legal tackle and what’s a 15-yard penalty?

What I sought to learn is how the most intimidating defender in Broncos history would have handled the NFL’s controversial “lowering of the helmet” rule.

“It’s tough, I’ll tell you. We’d find a way. If you have to, you always find a way,” Atwater said. “Everything’s always changing and adapting. I think we would have found a way to tackle without our heads. I know I used my head. I didn’t lower it. But I tried to hit with the top of my head…

(Atwater took a slow-motion running start to level his dome into the bottom of my face …)

“… and put your head right there, on the chin. Not now, though. Can’t do that. Got to adjust.”

The smart defenders, as Broncos safety Justin Simmons has said, will adjust. And here’s a hunch all the player and media angst over a flag-filled preseason amounts to much ado about nothing, if officiating crews revert to the traditional rules when the Falcons and Eagles open the regular season Thursday night.

“Let’s just wait and see how they call it,” Atwater said.

No one personifies a Denver defense better than No. 27, and the Pro Football Hall of Fame is swirling around Atwater. He made the trip to Canton, Ohio, for the enshrinement ceremony for good friend and fellow safety Brian Dawkins, who played 13 seasons with the Eagles before a few with Denver.

“I’m hoping I get in one day, but that night was about Brian Dawkins. It wasn’t about me at all,” Atwater said. “I was really happy for him. He had a heck of a career, the impact that he had on our players here, Chris Harris and DT (Demaryius Thomas) and those guys. He put something in them to make them work hard and be the best at their position.”

And it was Atwater, along with team president Joe Ellis, who delivered the news to Pat Bowlen when the longtime owner was nominated as a Hall of Fame finalist two weeks ago.

“Steve was one of Pat’s favorite players,” Ellis said. “(He) deserves to be in the Hall of Fame.”

“I had a great relationship with Mr. Bowlen right from the start. I’d be working out and he’d be on the Stepmaster. Just a real personable guy. We could talk to him about anything,” Atwater said. “I was kind of blown away by a man of his stature spending time, talking to the players. I just thought it was cool. I felt like it was unique.

“I couldn’t imagine as many owners would interact with their players as much as he did. Gave me a sense of comfort and made me want to go out there and play even harder. I already had great reasons to play hard. I had great coaches and great teammates. Then you know the guy who is writing the checks really cares about you as a person, it makes you want to dig even deeper.”

Atwater’s omission is proof there’s too much PR and not enough (football) IQ involved in the Hall of Fame process. The reasons for Bowlen’s delayed entry into the Hall of Fame also help to explain, but not justify, Atwater’s wait. They were and are dreadful self-promoters. They take credit like it’s a flu shot, and they didn’t conduct the bulk of their Hall of Fame-worthy careers in Chicago, Dallas or on the east coast. I asked Steve three questions about himself; he deflected all three to someone else — his family, his teammates and, yes, the owner who finally earned a nomination himself, several years after it should’ve happened.

“It’s 100 percent in the hands of the Hall of Fame voters and writers,” Atwater said. “I’ve gotten the chance to a meet a lot of those guys. I’m not one to go up and beg the guys for votes. But it’s been interesting to get to know those guys. Whenever it comes up most of the guys say, ‘I vote for you whenever it comes up.’

“I haven’t met one yet that says he hasn’t voted for me. And yet … I’m still here.”

Eight Pro Bowls, tied for the third-most by an NFL safety. Starting safety on three Super Bowl teams, including a Super Bowl XXXII performance worthy of MVP honors. Five-time all-NFL pick. Member of the 1990s all-decade team. As classy and respected as an athlete can be.

“If I had to wait another 10 years I’d do that to make sure Mr. Bowlen goes in,” Atwater said.

“And I really mean that.”

Steve Atwater should be in the Pro Football Hall of Fame, and I really mean that.