From the
Wall Street Journal: keeping the
faith can mean keeping one's best possible life. Josh Hamilton, the All-Star
outfielder for the Texas Rangers, lost part of his career to drug and alcohol
addiction before finding the support of a religious community. Tony Dungy, the
former coach of the Indianapolis Colts, says that his reputation for
"quiet strength" (also the title of his best-selling book) developed
only after God changed him from an angry, testy man into a model of
"Christian maturity." In the case
of Mr. Tebow, what seems to fuel many of his fans—and to drive many of his
critics crazy—is not so much his evangelical faith itself but the equanimity
and generosity that his faith inspires in him. Can he really mean it when he
says that football isn't that important to him, that he cares more about
transcendent things?
On a brisk Thursday evening in mid-November, I sat high in the stands at a Denver Broncos home game, covering the ears of my 4-year-old son as the fans around us launched f-bombs at Tim Tebow, the Broncos' struggling second-year quarterback. Mr. Tebow was ineffective and off-target for most of the game, and one of his more voluble and obnoxious critics was standing right in front of us.
But the heckler's friend wasn't joining in. "Just wait until the end of the fourth quarter," he said. "That's Tebow time."
On a brisk Thursday evening in mid-November, I sat high in the stands at a Denver Broncos home game, covering the ears of my 4-year-old son as the fans around us launched f-bombs at Tim Tebow, the Broncos' struggling second-year quarterback. Mr. Tebow was ineffective and off-target for most of the game, and one of his more voluble and obnoxious critics was standing right in front of us.
But the heckler's friend wasn't joining in. "Just wait until the end of the fourth quarter," he said. "That's Tebow time."
And so it was. In the waning moments
against the New York Jets, Mr. Tebow manufactured a 95-yard game-winning drive,
punctuated by his own 20-yard touchdown dash. He brought the Broncos back from
imminent defeat, just as he had done in previous weeks against the Miami
Dolphins, Oakland Raiders and Kansas City Chiefs.
And when the shouting was over, Mr.
Tebow did what he always does—he pointed skyward and took a knee in prayer. In
postgame interviews, the young quarterback often starts by saying, "First,
I'd like to thank my Lord and Savior Jesus Christ" and ends with "God
bless." He stresses that football is just a game and that God doesn't care
who wins or loses.
This combination of candid piety and
improbable success on the field has made Mr. Tebow the most-discussed
phenomenon of the National Football League season. Most expert analysts still
consider him poor material for a pro quarterback. An inexperienced passer with
awkward throwing mechanics and the build of a fullback, he likes to run over
defensive players, which is a no-no in the NFL, whose starting quarterbacks are
expensive and hard to come by.
But onward he and the Broncos have
marched, winning six of their last seven games and now tied for the lead in
their division as they face the Chicago Bears this Sunday. Mr. Tebow continues
to defy his critics—and to embody the anxieties over religion that are dividing
today's sports world and embroiling players and fans alike.
Sports culture is among the most
fervently religious sectors of American life. If you turn on ESPN's
"SportsCenter" almost any night, you will see baseball players who
point to heaven after a clutch hit and basketball players like the Orlando
Magic's Dwight Howard, who once intimated that a playoff series victory against
the Boston Celtics was proof of God's presence with his team.
These claims by athletes—"God
helped me do that" or "I thank God that I was able to do that"—are
so commonplace that they usually draw little notice. Most sports fans seem to
think that such religious talk doesn't really affect how the games are played
or credit it with a powerful placebo effect. So what if Adrian Gonzalez of the
Boston Red Sox has a Bible verse inscribed on his bat? Fine—whatever helps him
to hit the long ball.
But Mr. Tebow has never been content to
leave his evangelical faith on the field. Well before he became the starting
quarterback for Denver , he was a lightning rod
in America 's
intermittent culture war of believers vs. secularists.
In 2010, while still at the University
of Florida (where he won the Heisman Trophy and helped the Gators to win two
national championships), Mr. Tebow filmed a Super Bowl commercial for Focus on
the Family, the mega-ministry known for its conservative political advocacy.
The ad is about how Mr. Tebow's mother was advised to abort her son following a
placental abruption, but she refused and, well, now we have Tim Tebow.
The ad takes the softest possible
approach to the subject and never uses the terms "abortion" or
"pro-life," but its intent was clear, and it generated controversy.
Since then, feelings about Mr. Tebow have been a litmus test of political and
social identity. If you think he's destined to be a winner, you must be a naive
evangelical. If you question his long-term chances as an NFL quarterback, you
must hate people who love Jesus.
The intertwining of religion and sports
is nothing new in American culture. Both basketball and volleyball were
invented by men involved with chapters of the Young Men's Christian Association
in Massachusetts .
Or consider the pioneering college coach Amos Alonzo Stagg (1862-1965), who
created the batting cage in baseball, five-man teams for basketball and several
of the standard aspects of football, from the man in motion, lateral pass and
Statue of Liberty play to helmets, tackling dummies and names on uniforms.
The historian Clifford Putney has
written that Stagg and his contemporaries combined faith with sports and
competition because they believed that God wanted people to live healthy, vigorous
lives. They believed that sports could help to make people good and thereby
bring them closer to what God intended for them.
As Michael Lewis reports in his 2006
book "The Blind Side," one of the standard problems of today's top
athletes—one of the main threats to long careers—is defective character. He
offers a depressing list of high-school football standouts who came to ignoble
ends because of selfishness and stupidity, including Eric Jefferson, a
first-team all-American defensive end who was arrested for armed robbery, and
Michael Burden, an NFL-bound defensive back who was charged with rape and then
"vanished without a trace."
More recently, we have seen the
disrupted careers of star athletes like Michael Vick, Plaxico Burress and Tiger
Woods—men whose lives in professional sports have been undermined by character
faults. Such stories are more common than we realize. For every Michael Oher
(Mr. Lewis's subject in "The Blind Side") who overcomes harsh
beginnings and makes it, there are many other promising athletes who are
overcome by their own worst impulses. They lose, the game loses and fans lose.
Alternatively, keeping the faith can
mean keeping one's best possible life. Josh Hamilton, the All-Star outfielder
for the Texas Rangers, lost part of his career to drug and alcohol addiction
before finding the support of a religious community. Tony Dungy, the former
coach of the Indianapolis Colts, says that his reputation for "quiet
strength" (also the title of his best-selling book) developed only after
God changed him from an angry, testy man into a model of "Christian
maturity."
In the case of Mr.
Tebow, what seems to fuel many of his fans—and to drive many of his critics
crazy—is not so much his evangelical faith itself but the equanimity and
generosity that his faith inspires in him. Can he really mean it when he says
that football isn't that important to him, that he cares more about
transcendent things?
While at Florida ,
Mr. Tebow became well known for spending his summers helping the poor and needy
in the Philippines .
He also spoke in prisons and appeared to accept every opportunity to volunteer.
He encouraged his teammates and classmates to follow his lead.
As Mr. Tebow recounts in his book
"Through My Eyes" (written with Nathan Whitaker), after he won the
Heisman Trophy in 2007, he had the idea to use his fame to raise money for the
orphanage that his family runs and for other organizations. Since National
Collegiate Athletic Association rules prevented him from raising money for his
own causes, he worked with the university to found a student society that could
be used for charity.
According to the former Florida coach Urban
Meyer, Mr. Tebow's philanthropic efforts reshaped campus culture, and for a
time, volunteering became fashionable. In his senior year, the powder-puff
football tournament that he launched, with the help of the university's
sororities and fraternities, raised $340,000 for charity.
Mr. Tebow's acts of goodwill have often
been more intimate. In December 2009, he attended a college-football awards
ceremony in Lake Buena Vista ,
Fla. The night before, at another
gala at Walt Disney World Resort, he met a 20-year-old college-football fan
named Kelly Faughnan, a brain-tumor victim who suffers from hearing loss and
visible, continual tremors. She was wearing a button that said "I love
Timmy." Someone noticed and made sure that the young woman had a chance to
meet the player.
Mr. Tebow spent a long while with Ms.
Faughnan and her family, and asked her if she'd like to be his date for the
award ceremony the following night. She agreed, and the scene of Mr. Tebow
escorting the trembling young woman down the red carpet led much of the
reporting about the event.
As Mr. Tebow's acts of goodwill merged
with his achievements on the field for the Florida team, Tebow fandom morphed into
Tebow piety. Students launched websites dedicated to the young man, and blogs
and message boards lit up with tributes. The blogosphere and Twitterverse
produced a flood of over-the-top jokes declaring Tebow's greatness: "Tim
Tebow has counted to infinity…twice." "When Tim Tebow walks on water,
his feet don't get wet."
In recent weeks, as Tebow mania has
re-emerged alongside the unexpected success of the Broncos, it has become clear
that the fever is not confined to the quarterback's fellow evangelical
Christians. Mr. Tebow's habit of taking to one knee in prayer on the field has
given rise to an Internet meme called "Tebowing." Fans have posted
pictures of themselves praying on one knee while doing everything from surfing
and fighting fires to touring China
and going into battle.
"Tebowing" is the brainchild
of Jared Kleinstein, 24, a real-estate marketer in New York
City who was raised in Denver ,
where he grew into a devoted sports fan. Mr. Kleinstein, who is Jewish, just
wanted to pay tribute to the inspirational quarterback of his favorite team. He
launched Tebowing.com from Manhattan
in October, on the night after Mr. Tebow led the Broncos to victory over the
Miami Dolphins.
"We were at a bar watching the
game," he says, "and when he came back to win, everybody was cheering
like we won the Super Bowl, even though we had just beat the last-place team in
the league." Mr. Kleinstein noticed that as the Bronco players were
jumping up and down on the sidelines, Mr. Tebow took a knee in prayer. He
snapped a picture of himself and his friends doing the same, called it
"Tebowing," then created the site and sent it to eight people.
Within 48 hours, Mr. Kleinstein had
been interviewed by this paper, CBS, Fox, ABC and other media outlets. The site
has received millions of visits and page views in its short life. Mr.
Kleinstein receives pictures of people Tebowing all day long, and often posts
new pictures every hour.
With his site, Mr. Kleinstein says,
"people found hope through a gesture," noting a much-discussed photo
that he posted of a young boy with an IV attached to his arm who wrote that he
was "Tebowing while chemoing." Mr. Kleinstein adds that a lot of
support for the trend has come from rabbis. "It has made prayer in public
something to not be ashamed of," he says. "I think that crosses all
religious boundaries."
In communities across America ,
whether religious or secular, fields of play are often seen as workshops of
character. Parents and coaches get kids involved with sports because they care
about encouraging them to be better people.
At the national level, however,
big-time sports is big business, with billions of dollars at stake, and Americans
tend to be cynical about the whole show. In this world, Mr. Tebow's frequent
professions of faith can come across as a discordant note, equal parts
over-earnestness and naïveté. It's hard to resist the thought that, eventually,
a darker reality will show through.
Mr. Tebow may indeed turn out to be a
hypocrite, like other high-profile Christians in recent memory. Some of us
might even want that to happen, because moral failure is something we
understand. We know how to deal with disappointed expectations, to turn our
songs of praise into condemnation.
What we are far less sure how to do is
to take seriously a public figure's seemingly admirable character and
professions of higher purpose. We don't know how to trust goodness.
The one loss in Mr. Tebow's record as Denver 's starting
quarterback this season came in a 45-10 blowout against the Detroit Lions. Mr.
Tebow completed just 46% of his passes. He suffered seven sacks, including one
by Stephen Tulloch, after which Mr. Tulloch took a knee, "Tebowing"
as Mr. Tebow struggled to rise.
When asked how he felt about Mr.
Tulloch's mockery, Mr. Tebow responded, "He was probably just having fun
and was excited he made a good play and had a sack. And good for him."
Last week, after the Broncos' victory
against Minnesota ,
Mr. Tebow was asked by a reporter to name something memorable that had been
said to him in the wake of the extraordinary win.
"I'll tell you one thing that
happened during the week that I remember," he said. Mr. Tebow proceeded to
talk about spending time with a young leukemia patient from Florida who had just been transferred to
hospice care and about how delighted Mr. Tebow was to say the kid's name on
television and to let him know that someone cared.
Mr. Tebow may or may not enjoy
long-term success as an NFL quarterback. His current streak will run its
course, and the Broncos might well move on to another quarterback, one who is
more obviously suited to the pro game.
But win or lose, Tim Tebow will compete
hard—and when he's done, he will thank God and remind all of us that it's just
a game.
This article is adapted from the e-book, "The Tebow Mystique: The Faith and Fans of Football's Most Polarizing Player" Find more information here.
This article is adapted from the e-book, "The Tebow Mystique: The Faith and Fans of Football's Most Polarizing Player" Find more information here.
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