Thoughts on the eve of Tim Tebow

In every good hero's journey, the chosen one must eventually leave his mentor behind in order to face his quest alone.

And that sucks.  No one wants to leave the comfort and safety of their Jedi Academy.

It helps, though, when your mentor wears a hoodie.  Ask Luke Skywalker. 

If the reports are true, Kyle Orton is questionable for tomorrow's game against the Raiders.  Statistically, players who are listed as "questionable" end up playing about 50% of the time.  Thus, I'd say it's probably no better than a coin flip we'll see Tim Tebow. 

That's good enough for me.  Let the hero with a thousand faces step into the Black Hole--where only the most butch of drag queens fear to tread--and take on the Sith Lord himself, Al Davis.

Tebow's first start against the Raiders?  Are you kidding me?

It had to be destiny.  Only a guy who can casually take a Friar Tuck haircut is worthy of standing in the Oakland Coliseum with a predominantly orange light saber and severing the head of the Raiders' season.

Should the Broncos have drafted Tim Tebow?  

Who really cares? The Tebow narrative overpowers the talent-evaluating senses--even those of clone trooper Joe Ellis.  

Tonight, on the eve of Tim Tebow's first game, I don't give a damn about Tebow's religious values.  I could care less about his throwing mechanics.   And you can take the fact that the Broncos traded 2 extra draft picks to get him and throw it into the washing machine with Peyton Hillis' sweaty jockstrap.  

I don't care.  

For the first time in recent memory, I'm excited to watch a Broncos quarterback.

Why?  Call me old school, but I rather enjoy watching a guy make plays on 3rd down--with his feet.  Sort of like this guy:

Am I equating Tim Tebow with John Elway?  Yeah, they both have five letters in their last name.

What I'm really admitting to myself is that there's just something exciting about watching a quarterback scramble out of the pocket to make big plays.  Perhaps it's those two seconds of anticipation.  Who knows.  It's just infinitely exciting.

The purest of pocket passers certainly win championships, there's no doubt.  But forgive me if I find them a little boring.  Peyton Manning?  Yawn.  Tom Brady?  Wake me up before you go-go. Give me Ben Roethlisberger or Steve Young.  Now, I'm interested.

As a Broncos fan, when you are weaned on the play of John Elway, you grow up craving 3rd-and-long; when you are spoon fed 4th-quarter comebacks, you don't mind a quarterback who isn't afraid to run for the first down; when you drink pocket pressure out of your sippy cup, you want a guy who doesn't need a perfectly-blocked play to get to the sticks.

Is Tim Tebow that guy?

I don't know.  But I can tell you one thing.   I'm excited to finally see.

Tebow may wobble, but he won't fall down on 3rd down--at least, not until he's really tackled.

For many, the legacy of Josh McDaniels is set in stone around these parts--he's the guy who tore down the Broncos in less than two years.  But his legacy isn't even close to finished, despite the fact that he's no longer the coach.  His true legacy begins tomorrow, when Tim Tebow hits the field.

What would Tebow's own hooded mentor tell him as Tebow stares down the Black Hole alone?

Do or do not.  There is no try.  And win a motherf!#%!$g game, you should.

I’m glad we had this talk.  Now, vaya con Dios, Brah.

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