NFL: On the Tebowagon

Across the Atlantic, a strange phenomenon is taking place. Hordes of red-blooded Americans huddle down on one knee each Sunday teatime, in the hope that their saviour offers them relief beyond the mundanity of their everyday struggles. He is borne of this Earth, a mortal like each and every one of us, aside for his penchant for achieving the impossible. Indeed, it is Him who has put his body on the line so that we should live out our dreams for a better future. Ever since His incarnation, sceptics have dismissed His sway over the population as an elaborate ruse, a passing fad, a distortion of reality. Yet still his followers believe. I am beginning to believe.

The man’s name? Tim Tebow. And the only difference I can discern between him and Jesus is that those who are riding the crest of Tremendous Tim’s wave are only swelling in numbers.

In the likelihood that the media wildfire surrounding the NFL quarterback hasn’t been embraced by the international sporting community as of yet, let me paint the story. Educated by his parents, Tebow emerged from the wilderness to compete at a high school of his choice. He soon came under the spotlight at college as a man who could boast a dimension of sheer athleticism along with a natural passing game; a threat both in the air and on the ground.

But there’s more to it than that. All potential franchise-boosting quarterbacks are under media scrutiny before they’re barely out of nappies, such is the American way of making education and sport synonymous. The best teen sportsmen across the land are cherry picked by universities whose very sustenance depends on the multi-million bonanza that is college football. Therefore, it comes as no surprise that as Tim Tebow grew up, the nation grew in anticipation to see his eventual unleashing on the NFL.

So, what makes this case special? So far, it is a mystery that has confounded all rationalisation. For if we look at the two brute facts that have captured the essence of his fledgling career at the Denver Broncos, logical compatibility doesn’t seem to apply: Tebow isn’t actually very good, yet the Broncos keep winning.

The transition from college football to the NFL was a reality check for those heralding Tebow as something of a revolutionary at quarterback. After a fairly promising rookie season whereby he was generally used effectively, if sparingly, Tebow was finally named a Broncos starter after Kyle Orton and company could only muster one win in the first five games of this year’s pursuit of the Vince Lombardi trophy. Having seemingly whimpered out of contention before the trees had even started shedding their leaves, the Broncos management saw fit to scoop up the remnants of their campaign and give Tebow the centre stage to prove that his surrounding hype was not just an engineering of fantasy between the expectant fans and the media.

The result is the stuff of overblown, fanciful Hollywood extravagance, but even the big wigs at Universal Studios could hardly have expected a script resonating with the glamour and romance of the Tale of Tim Tebow to have turned up on their doorsteps; instead, they’ll be clamouring to secure the rights to bring it to the big screen if his impossible run continues. His stint as the main man has been littered with quarters of non-existent offensive play, incomplete passes, a one-dimensional running game that prompts speculation as to whether he should really be a running back rather than a quarterback. But you can guarantee that in one single quarter, in one single drive or in one single play, Tebow comes alive. Possessed, almost, by a will to win.

Take Tebow’s first start of the season, for instance, dominated by a Miami Dolphins side who had failed to muster a single victory. For fifty six minutes Tebow was looking lost – pathetic, even, as the balls he launched down the field were only received by the Sun Life Stadium’s turf. But then, some kind of epiphany – an intervention, perhaps – coursed through the veins of the Broncos offense as they became the first team in NFL history to comeback from fifteen points behind in the last four minutes of a game. Suddenly his throws reached their target with eagle eye precision, suddenly the Miami defence metamorphosed from steel into butter, and that knack of winning in the face of adversity has been snowballing for the Broncos ever since.

And so has the drama. There came a victory over the Kansas City Chiefs whereby Tebow only completed two out of nine passes – but one of them hit receiver Eric Decker for the decisive touchdown. The Jets, the Chargers, the Vikings and the Bears have all fell in succession to fourth quarter comebacks, three of which went to overtime. It doesn’t seem to matter how poorly Tebow plays in the first forty five minutes of a football game, as almost on a whim he has the ability to snatch victory from the jaws of defeat.

On then does the Tebowagon roll. Critics, being critics, still bloody the nose of Tebow’s legion at every given opportunity – the Broncos defence are the real heroes, Matt Prater the kicker has sunk a few wonder field goals, and if the likes of Brady, Brees and Rodgers are like snipers in their passing accuracy, Tebow resembles something of a mortar. But even the most cold hearted of pundits have let down their guard and let a little magic seep in. It’s a sport, after all, and there’s nothing quite like an improbable road to glory to capture hearts and souls. Tebow’s jumped through hoops, ducked under fire, played chicken with traffic; but he’s emerged, relatively unscathed, to fight another Sunday. Maybe there is something mystical surrounding him. And if he goes on to win the Super Bowl, expect a religious uprising. Do you believe?