Follow Friday: Tim Tebow

If I ever have a son, I want him to be just like Tim Tebow. Except with better mechanics. My son would have a quicker release to avoid fumbling from a strip/sack hitting his blindside.

And he'd go to Ohio State, not Florida. But Urban would be his coach so it's kinda the same.

Tim can often be found on Twitter with the handle @TimTebow, in between confounding defensive coordinators and healing blind children with leprosy.

I had a chance to sit down with the savior of the New York Jets for a completely fake and in no way real interview.

Me: Hey Tim! Thanks for joining me.

Tim: No problem, it's the off season, I've got lots of spare time.

Me: Really? It seems like maybe you should be spending time learning the play book for your new team, the Jets.

Tim: Meh. You and I both know I'm just going to pull it down and run anyways.

Me: Fair enough.

Tim: Actually, I'd rather not talk about football. Football is just the platform I use to get to do what I really want to do.

Me: Well, obviously your faith is a big reason I asked you to do this interview, so that's fine with me.

Tim: Yeah...I don't want to talk about that either.

Me: Really? I thought you loved sharing your faith. I mean, you invented "Tebowing!"

Tim: Oh, sure. I totally invented dropping to my knees and giving thanks to God. No one in the history of the world had done that before.

Me: Ok, fine. No Jesus questions. You must've meant that football is the platform you use to promote the Tim Tebow foundation. I heard you just opened a hospital for children in the Philippines.

Tim: Big deal. Who hasn't?

Me: Um...the Philippino government apparently?

Tim: Look, all that stuff is fine, but I'm kind of over it. I'm leaving it in Denver. I'm a New Yorker now! Things are different. I have a new passion, a new calling in my life that I want to share with the world.

Me: Awesome! What is it? AIDS awareness? Homelessness issues? Racial reconciliation?

Tim: Nope. It's...(dramatic pause)...swearing.

Me: Huh?

Tim: Swearing! Four letter words! Cussing! Dan, it's the best!

Me: I'm confused.

Tim: Rex Ryan, my new coach, taught me. My first work out with him, I missed a pass, and I said, "darn it!"

Me: I'm terrified of where this is going.

Tim: Rex flew off the handle! "Nobody gets better I'd they only care enough to say 'darn it!' You've got to get mad, son! Let it out! It's in you, I know it is!" I missed the next pass and said, "dang it!" And then...

Me: What?

Tim: He let loose with a string of expletives that made my ears bleed. I was stunned. I cried a little. I may or may not have wet my pants a bit.

Me: Wow.

Tim: So I missed the next pass. By a mile. And I just felt all the pent up curse words within me begin to rise to the surface. And they came out. All at once. Just a string of swear words and expletives that would make an Italian gangster from Jersey blush. I had never felt so alive. And I knew right then, I had to share this feeling of joy with others.

Me: Ok. This might sound crazy, but hear me out on this. What if...and this is a bold strategy...but what if you stopped missing your passes so badly? What if you decided to get really good at your job and didn't have to live a life of frustration and rage?

Tim: Huh...wow. You think that's an option?

Me: *%&!