Philadelphia Is Tim Tebow’s Best Chance at Making It Back to NFL
My husband and I were just leaving the Union game in Chester last night when I got a text from our son: “We got Tebow boys.”
“Jake just sent me a text he meant to send to his Fantasy Football team,” I told Doug, laughing as I showed him my phone.
A few minutes later, Doug got a text — from his cousin Shelly, who lives in Denver and has Broncos season tickets. “Whaddya think of your new quarterback?” she wanted to know.
Doug didn’t laugh as he showed me his phone.
“What the hell … ”
I’ve got nothing against Tim Tebow. Well, nothing except that something I tend to have against people who believe that God pays attention to football games. If there is a God, I’d hope he’d have more important things to do. Still, I enjoyed the hoopla over Tebow’s college career; it made a nice, wholesome change from a lot of what you read about college athletes. And I’ve been really impressed when I’ve seen Tebow do commentary on ESPN. For a guy so young, he seems smooth and smart and well-spoken. And kind of hot, for a Jesus guy. Apparently Chip Kelly thinks he’s hot, too.
I texted Jake back: “We thought you were talking to your Fantasy bros!” “No, Eagles signed him,” he responded. Meantime, Shelly was telling Doug that she thought Tim might be a good fit in Philly: “He just needs the right team,” she texted. “John Elway” — the former QB is the Broncos’ general manager now — “was always jealous of the media attention Tebow got here.” Well, I have no reason not to believe that.
“So. Mark Sanchez and Tebow and that Sam Bradford guy,” I sighed to Doug.
“Don’t forget Marcus Mariota. Supposedly the Eagles are still going to trade up to get him.”
“How many quarterbacks are you allowed to have on a team, anyway?”
The more I think about it, though, the more Tebow and Philly sort of make sense. Who could be more of a long shot than a guy who hasn’t taken a snap since August of 2013? And you know how Philly loves its underdogs. (Rocky, anybody?) We’re Mecca for weirdos — Allen Iverson, Lenny Dykstra, Michael Nutter. Some cities shudder at the prospect of quirkiness. We salivate.
Think about it. Who else has an ex-mayor and ex-governor who’s a football analyst? Who else has a founding father whose idea of a good time was flying kites in thunderstorms, or a Hollywood princess who became a princess for real? We’re home base for the unexpected, the oddball, the bizarre. (Have you been to the Mütter Museum? Read the comments at Philly.com? Met any kids who go to Penn?) If Tebow still has a chance to make it anywhere in the NFL, surely it’s here.
And if he’s awful? If he tanks? Well, then, he’ll be treated to the cold hard wrath of Eagles fans. We weren’t afraid to stone Santa; holiness isn’t about to defer our boos of derision. Tim can always console himself by hanging out with Philly Jesus. Didn’t I tell you we love weird?
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