Hoyer Is The Starter, Not Manziel ... Okay?

Here's a thought — if you added Tim Tebow to the current Cleveland Browns quarterbacking mix who would you pick as the starter: Brian Hoyer, Johnny Manziel, or Tebow?

Because the three have impressed few, you might defer to the most famous player. This would at least be in keeping with the adopted process of several NFL general managers in such a scenario. The potential to be an icon often outweighs the promise of accurate passing, after all.

Browns coach Mike Pettine recently said that he wants his players running scared a little bit, presumably to instil the idea that nobody’s job is safe. He called pro football a performance based business, which it obviously is and hardly needs spelling out. I’m certain the players don't need to hear it phrased like this either. It’s hardly motivating or inspiring to have your coach say you need to perform or you’re out on your keister. I mean come on, nobody's lifting their game with the skipper breathing stale coffee vapors down their neck. Consider the plunging fortunes of Matt Schaub.

Given Pettine’s approach, it’s easy to see why maybe his quarterbacks are struggling, Manziel included. Tentatively announced starter Hoyer isn’t exactly being touted as the team’s leader, which is clearly what’s needed here. But Pettine won't be that emphatic because the Browns want to sell Manziel t-shirts, which is why he's also hedging about a two-quarterback system.

Then there's the issue that Hoyer hasn't exactly lit the preseason up, and by contrast has actually kept the offense in a shadowy lull. But hey, it’s the preseason, folks. Even Eugene Tackleberry wasn’t the cop he later became until he completed basic training. It took a leader like Commandant Lassard to know he'd have many, many opportunities to thrive.

The point is the whole situation reminds me of when former Browns QB Bernie Kosar was undermined by Bill Belichick. At least Kosar had the benefit of being a Browns legend, throwing for 3,000 yards four times with the club. Hoyer’s doing it uphill. He's thrown more worrying glances than he has yards to this point. And still, he deserves a genuine shot, not a half-hearted vote of confidence.

Well despite all this, everybody’s mostly worried about Johnny Football. Is he ready for the big time? they ask. Is he mature enough? Can he flip it down field as well as he flips the bird? As you've likely guessed, I’m more interested in Brian Football right now. Sure, he doesn’t come with as much hype, nor does he stir TV’s talking heads into verbal diarrhea the way Manziel does. But he could be a very good quarterback in time. While Manziel was off betting on himself in Vegas this summer, or twerking with Bieber, or whatever he does in his spare time, Hoyer went about his business, studying the playbook, taking reps and signing footballs, ‘Browns starter.’

Okay, I made the last bit up. But he may as well have because anyone who cares about Cleveland football knew in their heart of hearts that Manziel wouldn’t be ready for week one. Except him. Presumably he felt his talents would win him the starting gig, not realizing that athleticism doesn’t help you read a defense, or learn a playbook, or act like a pro. College educations just aren’t what they used to be.

So you see, this is mostly about Hoyer, who gets buried in Browns media coverage like Bruce at a Kardashian pool party. It’s no fun being the smart, responsible, flat-reared one is it? Hoyer could throw six of seven balls in his next game and there’d still be those clamouring for Manziel to go in. Yes, this is the nature of pro football, especially in our age of short attention spans. Nothing helps a raw talent like Johnny Manziel to be perceived as more important than he is than passing glances, and that’s exactly how many people follow the NFL nowadays. Those who really watch the game, however, know it takes more than bravado to play behind center.

Let’s not dismiss the focus and poise it’ll take Hoyer to keep his starting job and applaud his injury comeback. This Cleveland gig isn't exactly his to lose but Manziel’s to win really, and that’s possibly the worst case scenario for any quarterback. If the Browns succeed, Hoyer will be spared. If they fail, he’ll be the obvious scapegoat, hung out to dry by media hounds and an increasingly impatient fan base. 

You know Manziel will step in at some point because like Tebow before him, the public inertia is too great. Not even Ricky Vaughn rose to stardom this quickly folks.

Burn on big river, burn on.

The Temptation to use Tebow and how

Tim Tebow's loose spiral and sporting spirit have been shipped to New England, but outside of that, who really knows what this means?

In truth, few saw this coming. And yet, the Patriots may have been planning the move for weeks. That he was sitting on the sideline unemployed apparently proved too tempting for the team's coach Bill Belichick, who in this scenario is a little like Adam and Eve tempted by the serpent. Ironically, the once almighty Tebow had become a forbidden fruit around the league, before the Pats swooped in this month.

You could argue, in fact, that his stay in New York marked the end, where minimal opportunity was afforded the quarterback in a farcical situation which amounted to nothing more than a PR stunt. In short, the Jets signed the man but acquired the mania, something they always seem to crave.

At any rate, Belichick is not one to dwell on past sins. He's been down this road many times, yielding both success and failure, trial and tribulation. Though never repentance - not even with the likes of Albert Haynesworth. This might be his most ernest Hail Mary of all. 

As football fans, we thought Tebow might at least be a good "wildcat" option in New York, where it was expected the Jets would consider his versatility and size, and send him steaming from the backfield. In theory, Tebow was ideal for the club, where, as the back-up QB, he might have been inserted into the fray to pick up short yardage, or perhaps torment the opposition with some of the trickery the wildcat attack is known for.

Now the sport's insiders are forecasting Tebow in all manner of situations - be they wild, cat-like or a hybrid of the two. The NFL Network's Rich Eisen tweeted that it makes little sense Tebow play as just a QB. CBS Sports' Mike Freeman tweeted that Tebow won't only study tight-end but also quarterback. ESPN's Chris Mortensen tweeted that Tebow will be a third string signal-caller.
(In case you were wondering, I tweeted nothing, because like most fans, I have no idea what the heck Tebow will be doing in New England, outside of genuflecting and high-fiving).

But I do think about the wildcat, or at least variations of that type of offense. It is made for television football, just like Tebow. Tebow and the wildcat together might be like John Hamm and dark suits. This should have already been in syndication in New York. Just as the Miami Dolphins famously employed it in 2008, quarterback Mark Sanchez could have regularly split wide, while a second runner positioned himself in the backfield. Then, as a man swept behind the line, the ball might have been snapped into the hands of an enterprising Tebow, and New York football would have lit up again like Broadway Joe Namath. Tebow in lights, that's what we all envisaged, right?

Well, there's still a chance of this, I guess.

The wildcat has transitioned to the read option offense of late, where players like the Washington Redskins' Robert Griffin III and the Seattle Seahawks' Russell Wilson are reading defenses and choosing an appropriate option. Presuming Belichick isn't grooming Tebow to play fulltime quarterback behind the game's best signal-caller, Tom Brady - as many writers and commentators are suggesting - option play might be Tebow’s niche in New England. After all, Tebow is a tank of a man at 6-foot-three and 236 pounds (the NFL's scariest runner is Adrian Peterson is 217 pounds). Given the chance to bamboozle defenders using New England’s vast arsenal, Tebow might seize the day. If there was ever an athlete who could be an effective football player without a positional label, it is No.15 – soon to No.5 in his new uniform.

Working against this is clipboard pretence. Pro football's most prominent talking heads seem enamoured with the idea that modern football requires every player to be a specialist. How often do we hear about the intricacies of elaborate assignments, the complexities of playbooks, and that a generalist just can’t cope? Tebow is the case study here. It may well be true that the highest level of football calls for the focus of a fundamental skill, such as blocking, or running through gaps, or, as it is in Tebow’s case, accurate forward passing. But at the end of the day, aren't self-belief, being hard to tackle and having incredible diligence all skills?

Working in favor of the idea is Tebow’s prior professional success. Like the backs of a former era, Tebow is less conceptual in his approach to football: he sees a hole and he darts through it. He watches a defense lean one way, and heads the other. He's also less reliant on schemes and formations than is given credit for. He's the game's equivalent of Larry David: set up the scene and he'll take it from there. We saw him do this in Denver in 2011.

Tebow ran numerous option plays as the Broncos quarterback with Willis McGahee as running back, where together they amassed hundreds of yards on the ground in a short time. Denver played the option almost exclusively in the fourth quarter of their 38-24 win over the Oakland Raiders. They used it again a week later in a 17-10 unseating of the Kansas City Chiefs. But most notably, in an overtime win over the San Diego Chargers, Tebow set an NFL record 22 rushing attempts by a quarterback in one game, using the option. His 67 yards rushing and 143 passing that day, boasted a mastery of the strategy that was unprecedented at the professional level.

For all the so-called gimmicks and gadgets that teams should employ for a player like Tebow, its the player himself who most often makes something happen. That's Tebow's forte - interpretation. Certainly, running backs or half-backs, or "wild" backs need blocking and unbalanced formations, and the potential of several outlets or escape hatches, but they also dictate outcomes using their supreme speed, strength and vision. And in Tebow's case, an unparalleled will to succeed is undoubtedly a factor too. In this regard, Tebow’s runs, especially those late in the Denver campaign two seasons ago, appear to be the work of divine intervention.

So, yes, the Pats will need to think through some options. They'll benefit from plays specific to Tebow's repertoire, and to pinpoint instances in which he can bowl through, around, or over obstacles. But it'll be his thunderous running, and elusiveness, that'll make those plays work. And whether the defense suspects it or not, Tebow won't be denied yards. He'll additionally confuse defenders and inspire audiences simply by being on the field. He'll whip up lot of noise, both literally and metaphorically, even if just for a handful of plays.

Okay, we don't know exactly what Belichick will do with Tebow, so what do we know?

We know that Tebow is a rare and confounding specimen - a player who can make some throws, but more importantly, change direction like a running back. We can make fun of his passing but Tebow’s downfield tosses weren’t so terrible in Denver that they can't be a threat at all (he made 9 of 18 in that San Diego game). The promise of a threat is all Belichick needs for this signing to be a success in the end. The prospect of Tebow breaking a single play is certainly worth the risk.

The coach recently told reporters, "we'll see," of what he plans for Tebow. And yet, in Tebow, he surely realizes the potential to weave a number of tricks. It might take time, maybe even a season. However, given Belichick's propensity to use players out of position, as he did once so effectively playing linebacker Mike Vrabel as a tight end, Tebow has great prospects on this very clever football team.

Let's remember, Tebow is not just a run-of-the-mill back NFL defenses are accustomed to preparing for. He's simply not like those boasting power only, or just quickness, or even agility. Rather, he is a man with an array of skills, the way old-style footballers like Jim Thorpe of the Canton Bulldogs had almost 100 years ago. Heck, strap the headgear on him, they might even look alike.

Regardless of what's to come in New England, many pundits will discuss Tebow's signing as if there’s a grand Belichickian subtext. But there no real agenda when it comes to Tebow, not beyond getting the ball across the goal line.

Tebow could jet down to Florida

Tim Tebow might actually be a better quarterback option for the New York Jets than Mark Sanchez. He's bigger, is a more powerful runner, and at this stage, may actually be more accurate.

But the Jets probably have other plans, like signing a sixth QB, selling their best player, Darrelle Revis, and generally alienating their fan base. Just another offseason in New York.

This all leaves Tebow---if the Jets aren't clever enough to devise some running packages for him---in limbo. The former Florida Gator will then seek another path to the NFL stardom, and as it turns out, the Arena Football League may have a timely opportunity.

Orlando Predators owner Brett Bouchy told the Orlando Sentinel, in no uncertain terms, that his club is in the hunt for a piece of Tebow magic. That's right---mass marketing magic.

"Tim would certainly want to first exhaust his opportunities in the NFL, but we'd love to have him," Bouchy told the Sentinel. "I think he would definitely improve as a quarterback in our league.

"Kurt Warner told me once that when he got back to the NFL after playing in the Arena League, the NFL game was like slow motion. Everything in the Arena League is just so much faster and quicker and predicated on accuracy. Whenever Tim is willing, we have a contract waiting for him to sign."

You have to admire Bouchy's ingenuity, but he does realise Arena football isn't soccer right? Passing with your arms is still required.

And while Kurt Warner was a great NFL passer, I think we can all agree that he saw the game in slow motion because he was in fact playing in slow motion. 

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Cool Rankings: Football's trending teams

Who's the most powerful is important, right?

Most sports sites love an ordered list assessing "power". It's an inescapable force, like the bowel movement that overcomes Obi Wan as the Millennium Falcon is sucked toward the Death Star.

"That's no moon!"

And it surely wasn't, but rather a menacing space station that would play host to Ben's ultimate demise. It was 1977 and still feels raw somehow.

But we won't play into the hands of the powerful Empire, but instead consider those NFL teams everyone is fawning over. This is a stock count of the cool, the trendy, the water cooler contenders.

Our inaugural Cool Rankings are as follows:

1. Seattle Seahawks

The Hawks defense has most pundits, including ESPN's John Gruden and SI's Peter King, in flights of fluorescent fancy. They're good, but isn't the Packers o-line bad? There's always inordinately adored rookie quarterback, Russell Wilson, anyway.

2. San Francisco 49ers

Jim Harbaugh is the NFL's greatest coach, Alex Smith is the new Joe Montana, and the Niner defense relegates Alcatraz to the second most intimidating sight in the Bay.

3. Buffalo Bills

For some reason the Bills are still a sleeper, which is a testament to the prominence they achieved in the offseason. They lost to the New York Sanchez-Tebows in week 1 (who were so distracted by Lauren Tannehill they forgot about Ryan) and they've beaten up on the lowly Chiefs and Browns. Must be the helmets, at least they are cool.

4. Houston Texans

They might just be the new Dallas Cowboys: loaded with talent, full of expectation, and more talked about as a sexy favorite than Jessica Simpson during her Romo years.

5. Arizona Cardinals

Kevin Kolb's return to average is the feel good story of the month, outside of the real refs back like the mortal Clark Kent retrieving his superpowers, that is.

Tebow and Sanchez spitballing

In spite of the passive-aggressive offseason criticism, the pent up big city anxiety, and the Woody Allen-like pessimism, the Jets are likely to have a successful offense in 2012-13 for one simple reason: quarterbacks Mark Sanchez and Tim Tebow are able to move on from mistakes faster than Don Draper.

At a recent training session, each QB revealed better navigation of the press pocket than anything they could do behind center.

Sanchez said of his approach to improving: “Don’t get caught up in who completed what ball, who didn’t — don’t even let your mind go there. It’s not worth the time. It’s a waste. Just focus on the next play, have a short memory and keep playing. Be the leader this team needs.”

Tebow said of his error prone workout: "It's definitely frustrating, but it's seven-on-seven and those plays are the first time I ran them. I'll learn from it. Honestly, it won't bother me again. When you make a bad play, put it behind you and move on."

At this rate both men could be benched for Fireman Ed and still find the silver lining.

"He's just such a fiery competitor, with tremendous spelling skills, and nobody utilizes the crowd's energy like Ed does," they might say in unison to a throng of reporters. "Don't underestimate the reach of that man's hose."

Lolo Jones tweets would ensue.

How the Jets should use Tebow

Grantland's Chris Brown recently argued that Tim Tebow's success as a Jet will require him to be a passing threat as much as a runner. Brown is adamant that there's minimal opportunity for Tebow as a Wildcat attacker, which at this early stage, seems the likely designation for New York's hottest recruit. He contends that in order for Tebow to find success in situational plays as the back-up quarterback, he needs some throwing options up his sleeve. In other words, he needs to be more than a Wildcat, or perhaps, a wildcard.

These are fair points, but I'm not sure I agree Tebow should be closer to a quarterback than a running back. Isn't it entirely possible that Tebow, a tank of a man at 6-foot-three and 236 pounds (the NFL's scariest runner is Adrian Peterson is 217 pounds), can be an effective football player without a positional label? Yes, last season he lined up as QB, and even threw some decent balls. But most of the time he succeeded as an old time halfback.

Part of the issue is that pro football's most prominent talking heads seem enamoured with the idea that football is overly complex. How often do we hear, after all, about the intricacies of play design, of elaborate assignments, and complexities of playbooks? The sentiment appears to be that if the majority can't comprehend it, then it's bordering on genius. It may well be true that the highest level of football calls for extreme focus, but at the end of the day, how ingenious is the art of deception or surprise on the sporting field? That's what it boils down to, and so to Brown's point, I can appreciate the need for Tebow to show a few things, but do some others. He can't simply run into the line after every snap, not unless he hopes to specialize in fourth and inches. But by the same token, maybe intermittent running plays is all the Jets require from Tebow.

Like the backs of a former era, Tebow is less conceptual in his approach to football: he sees a hole and he darts through it. He watches a defense lean one way, and heads the other. He's also less reliant on schemes and formations than is given credit for. For all the so-called gimmicks and gadgets that teams supposedly should employ for a player like Tebow, its the player himself who most often turns the sequence on its head and makes something happen. That's Tebow's forte - reacting! I'll concede that, sure, running backs or half backs, or "wild" backs need blocking and unbalanced formations, and the potential of several outlets or escape hatches, but they also dictate outcomes using their supreme speed, strength and vision. And in Tebow's case, an unparalleled will to succeed, too.

So, yes, the Jets will need to think through some options. They'll benefit from plays specific to Tebow's arsenal, and to pinpoint instances in which Tebow can bowl through, or around the defense, and possibly release the ball to a teammate, or even tuck it away and barge forward. But it'll be his thunderous running, and elusiveness, that'll make those plays work. And whether the defense suspects it or not, Tebow won't be denied yards. He'll additionally confuse defenses simply by being on the field. Why? Because he's such a rare and confounding specimen - a player who can throw it if forced to, but also change direction like a running back. And not just a run-of-the-mill back NFL defenses are accustomed to preparing for, like those boasting power only, or just quickness, but rather one with an array of skills, the way old-style footballers like Jim Thorpe of the Canton Bulldogs did almost 100 years ago.

No agenda, except crossing that goal line.

Tebow's a gamer

Tim Tebow's move to the New York Jets has confounded most NFL experts and commentators. And yet, there's a strange genius at play in acquiring the country's biggest football personality to showcase his rare stylings on its grandest stage.

Here's a satirical piece I wrote earlier this year for The Good Men Project about the one, and only, Tebow.

Tebow's a gamer

There are two scenarios in which Tim Tebow would be the world's greatest quarterback: the first, on a frost-covered gridiron in Deluth Minnesota in 1923; the second, inside a football video game from the Eighties - coincidentally an era when aimlessly running in hostile environs was at a premium (see the movies Running Man, Blade Runner and Predator).

Too many people expect too much from Tebow. Of course this past season he couldn’t pitch a nine-yard out to save his life - he's a born runner, a replicant created better, for short term gain only. Why can’t we just accept the genius of his rare design?

When the video game gods considered the possibilities for a football prophet to eclipse black and white Xs and Os, they surely conjured a mold in Tebow's image. If you look closely, Tebow is in fact a Nintendo sprite, circa 1985. Left. Right. Forward. Back. The occasional awkward diagonal. Stick with these controls and Tebow will take you far. If he freezes mid-play, hit reset.

Unfortunately Tebow's in the wrong era, trapped in reality. He competes in this futuristic pigskin we know as the NFL, where his indecision and inaccuracy are brutally punished by battering rams with hardened plastic shells. It can never work, no matter what the epitomic quarterback John Elway says. Video game QBs of the mid-Eighties were different to actual QBs - more innocent, dancing and dashing around the pocket like a kid playing hopscotch in the backyard. Being pummeled in the back field was not in their repertoire, but reserved for those plodding NFLers taught to launch balls from deep in the pocket like a rusty- wheeled cannon. No, '85 sprites bounced, rolled and rambled, without a hint of deference for the defense, which looked hopelessly blinkered on every down, mind you.

In this vain, my favorite football video game as a kid was the underwhelming but charming 10-yard Fight. I was nine when it was released, which gifted me with a suitable lack of expectation and a necessary amount of patience to enjoy a game with the limited locomotion. But then again, 10-yard Fight moved video gamers beyond Atari’s pixilation and into, well, a sharper variation of little blurry squares.

The beauty of Fight – as anyone nostalgic about the original batch of Nintendo offerings will attest to – was simplicity. No fancy intro featuring Kid Rock or Creed. No mistimed broadcasting on a loop, more obvious than Ferris Bueller’s rigged doorbell. No overcompensation of mini-games because the main product's bogged down in complex playbooks. Instead, Fight resourced one offensive mode – Tim Tebow’s preferred attack – the read-option. Your quarterback simply received the ball upon the snap and could enact one of three choices: 1) run, 2) toss the ball horizontally to a running back, 3) throw the ball to your lone down field receiver. It was the sort of stark, unscheduled, draw-it-up-the-sand approach to football that made you fall in love with the sport in the first place.

Playing the game again also reveals the ungoverned zeal Tebow must experience as he zigs and zags and then darts into every line, and finally, charges away from every helpless secondary. Tebow, like the Fight signal-caller, hurriedly scans for space, reads the lean of defenders' bodies and chooses an angle, by foot or by air. It’s a basic premise with an understated beauty.

But 10-yard Fight, like Tebow, is polarizing because most gamers and even those with a penchant for anything retro, prefer the oft-heralded Tecmo Bowl. And to be fair, Tecmo seems a superb blend of dynamism and graphical prowess in hindsight. Indeed, Fight never matched its game play, but made up the difference with quirky, old-fashioned touches, chief of which was its sound effects. Its mirthful audio snippets can only be described as cuts from an abandoned Casio keyboard recording session, which provided both practical and emotional checkpoints for a game that hinged on such things - as opposed to completing entire seasons or starting as a rookie and ending up an MVP. Fight’s intermittent jingles signalled new downs, first
downs and touchdowns, but more importantly, success!

Football deconstructed into 10-yard struggles posed a feasible and enticing challenge in the Eighties, kind of like the “It girls” they casted during the era's teen movies: Cindy Mancini in Can’t Buy Me Love or Andy in the The Goonies were just the types of love interests nerds locked in their rooms with Nintendo could not attain, but hoped to. Yet, if you consider today’s it girl - Madden on the Xbox, if you will - they’re all uninhibited nymphs whose mere silhouettes are enough to unsettle the fit of your Dockers. It's a challenge of another kind.

Fight will never hold a candle to a scantily-clad Shannon Elizabeth but it has its own sex appeal. How about, for example, when the marching defense is coming for you, with that tappity-tap drumming sound in your ear? Then, at a speed equitable to the one typically seen on CBS replays, you retreat your quarterback toward your own end zone, spinning and ducking in a Tebow-esquepixilated Gatorade - and will conclude its flight in the opposite end zone, in the hands of your receiver. The bird-like whistle will sound repetitively as your man leaps for joy on the spot. You glance at the rapidly ticking clock and get ready to defend, where you’ll soon play the part of cumbersome obstacle, and your opponent will attempt to secure ground in highly-coveted 10-yard increments.

Football, the way it was intended.

Lin and Tebow churn the media machine

A recent poll on ESPN.com has revealed that 84% of fans (as of Tuesday evening) consider the rise of the New York Knicks Jeremy Lin to be greater than that of Tim Tebow.

So out of control is the media's focus on Lin - the namesake of the so-called Linsanity phenomenon - that Sportscenter anchors are even likening him to The Beatles. He surely has little in common with the Fab Four, but like Tebow, Lin is a talented athlete with the ability to inspire his teammates. He's also simply a guy looking for a long-term career in pro sports, who didn't ask for any of this extra attention or analysis. And yet,  the hype continues: GQ worked out some Lin lessons for the GOP; Yahoo claimed Kobe bowed to Lin's star power; and, The Huffington Post reported Harvard's rekindled love of basketball.

Why do we feel so compelled to seek out and elevate the next star of the hour? Are we just at the internet's mercy, fueled by micro-reporting and debate, constantly craving the latest search buzzwords?

Tebow - the web phenomenon - busted search algorithms when he painted John 3:16 on his face in early January. The top search terms that week were "John 3:16", "Tebow", and "Tim Tebow" according to Business Insider. Remember how crazy that period of time was? Was it really less "insane" than what's happening with Lin?

Tim Tebow praying for the Eighties

In case you missed it, here's a satirical piece I wrote about Tim Tebow and 80s video gaming for The Good Men Project last month. If you enjoy personal sports narratives, be sure to check out some of the other stuff on Good Men.

Eat, Pray, Tebow

Tim Tebow eats up a challenge, prays on the sideline, and loves the spotlight. In summary, he's the Julia Roberts of the NFL. Maybe not as leggy.

It's a familiar tale: a pilgrimage of self-discovery transpiring amid confusion and controversy. None of which is real, mind you, just the echoes of our hyperactive minds. But just like the narrative of the well known chick flick, we wonder if Tebow can adequately calm his soul despite the noise? And more importantly, will this journey feature a weird old guy in a bandanna who refers to him as "Groceries"?

Actually, good quarterbacks play with a full bag of groceries. Tebow's operating with less than 10 items. That's not a knock on his intelligence but his skill-set, which notably lacks an accurate mid-range or deep throw. Oh sure, against the San Diego Chargers last Sunday he completed a few longer balls, including a nice 18-yarder to Eric Decker for a score. But as his 9 for 18 completions indicate, Tebow passes usually finish like a clean-up on aisle three.

The truth is, we need to forget the stats - even ones that show Tebow's protecting the ball, and his passer rating as a decent 80.5 (as of week 12). What have been conventional quarterback measures for the last 50 years are no longer relevant - didn't you get John Fox's memo? It's not about style points, it's about wins. And Tebow is redefining "winning" football. As a result, it's quite possible we've been overrating the quarterback position altogether. Tebow, after all, is doing less quarterbacking than we've ever seen from a signal-caller, and his defensively-minded Denver Broncos are reaping the rewards. Even The Denver Post this week published that if Tebow earns his club a playoff berth, then he must not only be considered a legitimate Pro Bowl candidate, but also the NFL's most valuable player. Mercy!

Tebow's success - and the hype that follows it - feels like a sharpened iron poking at our collective sides. Yes, his personality is divisive, but so is his style. It's so unnatural it's making our heads explode. So how do we resolve the issue of a player we can't accurately label? How do we rationalize this football phenomenon when his perpetual positivity and seemingly endless luck - see faith - supersede the gaping holes in his quarterbacking repertoire? And what are the parameters for defining a winner anyway? One win? Five wins? Twenty minutes in the confessional?

There's no science to this. We know Tebow is a winner because high profile people tell us so, and because he's taken more end of game knees than Johnny Lawrence from Cobra Kai. And yet, recounting his faults has become a national pastime. We know Tebow can't throw, but he makes plays. He doesn't look down field, but he rumbles across it like a John Deere mower. He doesn't hang tough in the pocket, but is hard enough to take an Elway helicopter spin. He doesn't let plays develop, but his teammates are developing a powerful belief in him. He can't play four quarters, but he nails the fourth. He talks about his faith too much, but never stops believing. And though we keep talking about him, he doesn't hear it.

Just what to do with a case like Tebow?

We probably won't know until the journey ends, when he's hoisting the MVP trophy above his haloed noggin, and we've all attained a mile high worth of enlightenment.

This article first appeared on Technorati.