Everything But Poker

Seldom do societies allow an athlete to personify all the virtues that they hold dear. They want the sports star to possess a few of those pristine qualities, but to assume the whole lot is far too dangerous – so they control him. They allow for certain qualities to be glorified while others remain unmentioned or subtly scorned. They build up a house of accomplishments for the most decorated heroes, but intentionally leave a closet door cracked open for the skeletons to peak their heads out.

Tim Tebow is the exception. America has built Tebow a mansion and left every door wide open for the world to see. Inside, those closets do not reveal skeletons but altars of dedication, generosity and faith. Perhaps this is all Tebow’s doing – the self-construction of a man’s image so authentic and righteous that the public has no other option but to take him at his word. In doing so, Tebow has established himself as one of the best college football players of all time, leading his team to two national championships while earning the most coveted individual prize in the sport: the Heisman Trophy. But it is the society that has accepted this virtuous man and turned him into a conglomeration of David, Mother Teresa and Tom Joad.

So what’s done is done. This is not an article about society bringing down The Great Tim Tebow, but rather The Great Tim Tebow bringing down society – or a whole bunch of sports fans. At some point Tebow will fail, whether it is against Mississippi State this weekend, at the NFL draft combine next spring or at some other point down the line. The fact is, we have allowed this 22-year-old college student to embody more ideal qualities in a man than any sports star in recent history, and at some point he will disappoint us.

Fifty-two years ago, the NFL welcomed in another quarterback that seemed to possess the same leadership, strength and mind-boggling skill that Tebow has displayed the past four years. Paul Hornung, however, went to town – literally – on his merits and sullied his reputation as a result. The Golden Boy was even quoted once saying, “Never get married in the morning – you never know who you might meet that night.” He was no savior, but society might have learned its lesson in anointing him with such praise.

Twenty-six years later, the basketball world stopped spinning and turned the other direction when Michael Jordan entered the NBA. He was most incredible player anyone had ever seen and carried with him a competitive drive that shocked us to the point of fear. Soon enough, however, that spirit’s off-court manifestation – gambling – exposed a personal demon that may or may not have caused His Airness to prematurely retire from the game.

And today, as the greatest golfer ever inches closer to the record for career Grand Slam victories, Tiger Woods is criticized for his profane mouth and childish demeanor when success does not come his way. All three of these athletes have been heralded for their unparalleled ability, and each praised for specific qualities for which younger generations ought to aspire. But they were also allowed room for error. Tebow is not.

Whether or not Tim Tebow succeeds as an NFL quarterback – or H-Back or Wildcat or Tebowcat – will be less important than his performance as a man. ESPN The Magazine interviewed him a couple months ago and published a transcript of his citing scripture and encouraging others to take on missionary work like he has done. Sporting News writer Dan Shanoff hosts just the most credible of dozens of Tebow-dedicated sports blogs analyzing his every move. And AOL Fanhouse writer Clay Travis even posted a blog earlier this summer declaring that Tebow was still a virgin and saving himself for marriage. The pedestal is raised, and the hopes and livelihoods of many sports fans now depend on the veracity of Tebow’s pious, pristine image.

Then again, maybe this cynical society built him up so high so that his fall would be that much greater. Then he comes back to the top in a post-football Renaissance. Everyone loves a redemption story, right?