From Sports Illustrated’s Albert Breer’s latest iteration of MMQB:
As much as we’ve heard about Tebow signing in Jacksonville, we still haven’t heard from Tebow about signing in Jacksonville, outside of a team-issued statement. And you’d think that means he, and the team, are actively trying to keep this iteration of TebowMania from turning into a circus.
That’s good. Because if there’s one common complaint I’ve heard from his past coaches about it, it’s not that he’s actively fueling it. Moreso, it’s that he doesn’t do anything to calm it down.
I met Tim Tebow in January 2018 at an Atlanta bar before the college football national championship.
The mere fact that I was able to wade through hundreds of adoring men and women after one too many glasses of Jesus’ blood to take a photo with Tebow without slipping on the drool that coated the floor is proof of divine intervention.
It was pure chaos surrounding Tebow, as if he was the last remaining 48” Toshiba LED at Best Buy on Black Friday or the final alligator tail on Chris Foerster’s coffee table. Social contracts evaporated. Some just wanted a photo for their social media, others pleaded with him to cure their loved ones of leprosy.
It’s not hyperbolic to say that if Paul McCartney walked into the bar that night, the crowd would’ve treated him like the Beatles treated Ringo. Utter indifference.
It would’ve taken Tekashi 6ix9ine-levels of security and a few tear gas grenades to quell the pandemonium and give Tebow something that resembled a low-key evening before contributing to the football broadcast the following day. An impossible task for even America’s bravest.
So for past coaches to hold Tebow responsible for the mayhem that surrounds him every waking hour is preposterous. You cannot sweep the tide. But that’s impossible for us mere mortals to understand.