I penned this strange bit of satirical verse a couple of months ago, in the throes of Tebowmania, but I held off on posting it at that time. With the imminent trade of Tebow and the decreasing relevance of the sentiments expressed here (both to me personally and perhaps to the NFL universe more generally), it seems that if I don’t post this now it may never see the light of day. And so, I give you, “Tim Tebow and the Convenience of Religious Evangelism.”
It seems that everyone I know
Is gooey for this man, Tebow,
His grand heroics, piety,
Of “Sacked again!” variety.
(A pillar of society
Engenders such anxiety?!)
But me, a merely “casual fan,”
– I really don’t adore the man.
I’d rather see his Sundays spent,
In Church, at Mass, observing Lent.
But Koufax we cannot all be,*
For faith’s got nuthin’ on TV.
And anyway, our Sunday friend,
Has only but one choice. Pretend –
That basketball was his career,
And down he went at every cheer –
A Tebow done at every point,
Would quickly empty out the joint.
If baseball, he would have to face
The choice to Tebow off first base.
He might get tagged, but surely so
If bowing first, then off to go.
And Hockey? That’s just dangerous,
He’d fall right through the ice and miss
The chance to bail his team out late,
And watch his teammates celebrate.
So even if the Church’s laws
Might give this man of faith some pause,
He has no choice but grin and heave,
For penitence? Why, just Believe!
* With a name like Eli Herring, your problem should involve playing ball on Saturday, not Sunday.