An Aussie invitation to Timothy Tebow
There once lived a man. A kind man. A just man. A man of simple upbringing, yet capable of miracles and converting the masses.
His single name is known all around the world to this day as a symbol of hope and humility.
If you are unaware of who Timothy Tebow is then I’m guessing you also think a ‘football’ is one of those spherical, smell-reducing things you chuck in your work shoes to stop them stinking out the garage.
Since week six of last year’s NFL season, Tebow has been the Alpha and Omega of the American sporting press, parting a sea of egos and billionaires to walk his unique path.
Not much needs to be said about what Tebow has done in the past, as enough words have been spilt on his story to fill the nightstands of every hotel in the Western World for the next millennia.
No, I’m much more concerned with the man’s future.
Watching Tebow’s New York Jets play this season has been a mostly frustrating exercise. Cruelled by injuries, and at times cohesion, ‘Gang Green’ have looked downright ugly. King ugly.
To call the Jets Tebow’s team though is a stretch Rex Ryan’s gastric band would be proud of, as for all but nine passing yards of the season he has been riding the pine.
But last week came a glimmer of hope. Up against the unbeaten Houston, the Jets trailed by a touchdown late in the match and, having tried fake punts and onside kick trick plays, it was clear team Green were going to throw everything at the Texans.
Quite simply, it was Tebow time.
But alas, despite having featured earlier in the match it was not to be, and Tebow time was shelved for some standard Sanchez inspired insipidness.
It became pretty clear in those last few disappointing moments that the Big Apple might not be the place for Tim, and any game time he’ll get is a token gesture for the goofy home-schooled kid.
Which is a shame. The bloke is a real athlete and entertainment personified! He’s ducking, he’s diving, fending, scrambling… like your mate Davo cooking the barbecue, the results can vary at times but you know he’s trying his best and it’s bloody entertaining to boot.
So I’ve got a proposition for you Tim.
Come play the 2013 NRL season.
You’ll love it. The season runs March-September, so if you play for Parra or the Roosters you’ll be home in plenty of time for the NFL season proper.
The game’s pretty much like football. A couple more downs, a few more laterals. You’ll be a star! You don’t even have to pass the ball if you don’t want to.
We’ll stick you in the forwards somewhere and you can rush to your heart’s content, tackle a few guys when you want to relive those linebacker days from high school.
Oh, and a good looking bloke like yourself shouldn’t be hiding away under a helmet, so we’ll ditch that too eh.
Our refs are fully professional, so you’ll never have to worry about incorrect decisions.
You might even really love the game and decide you want to play for the newly formed Philippines national team, or Queensland if you decide the Gold Coast is a bit more like Florida for your liking.
Of course we’re a bit strapped for cash down here, but a bloke who spends his off-season helping children in the Philippines wouldn’t be about the coin anyway would you?
I think you’ll find that there’s a stack of players in the NRL who are equally devoted to the real Big Man upstairs (have you met a bloke named Jason Stevens?), and a whole lot more that could use some ‘divine intervention’.
So Tim, Mr Tebow sir, what do you say? I can guarantee you’ll enjoy yourself, stay fit and meet some interesting characters.
Please tell me you’ll at least think about it, and if you’re serious about the move please send me a sign. Even if that sign is no sign.
Thank you for your time.
Goodnight and God bless.
Follow Chris on Twitter: @Vic_Arious
Chris Chard is a sports humour writer commenting on the often absurd nature of professional sport. A rugby league fan boy with a good blend of youth and experience taking things one week at a time, Chris has written for The Roar since 2011. Tweet him @Vic_Arious
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