Good luck on Saturday night in Foxboro against the Patriots. I'll be rooting for you.
Oh wait. Did I say “I'll be rooting for you?”
I meant to say... “I'll be rooting for you........ TO LOSE BY 40!”
Now look, don't take this personally. In fact, I'm sure you won't, seeing as how you are such a fine and humble young Christian man. Because you see, this isn't about you.
It's about your people. They are out of control. They cannot be reasoned with.
And wow, talk about a thin skin! Sheesh! One little knock against your – ahem – ingenious throwing motion, and I get accused of being a cross between Judas Iscariot and Rod Tidwell's brother Tee Pee: you know, the guy who never had anything positive to say while watching a game.
Your story is pretty amazing: you've gone from being a 1st round reach, to nearly cut, to starter and a 6 game winning streak, to bum who nearly cost your team a shot at the playoffs.... to a cult figure all in just two years.
But it's time that this little football tent revival gets shut down by a QB who is going to the Hall of Fame with a supermodel on his arm and a coach who doesn't mind sleeping with the team secretary or illegally videotaping other teams signals.
Tebowmania has been a fun little ride, but it's nothing more than a craze. And we've seen them come and go in sports and pop culture. Once upon a time, fans in stadiums did “the wave” and basketball players had hi-top fades with lines cut in the side.
MC Hammer was unquestionably cool, and replica puffy pants with fake zebra stripes called “Zubaz” were considered acceptable to wear in public.
The Run-N-Shoot once promised to revolutionize pro football, until teams found out at the most inconvenient times that holding a lead with that offense was about as effective as bringing your soup to lunch in a brown paper bag.
People who say you just need to learn how to throw a little better, are the same people who said we could turn sprinters like Willie Gault and Renaldo Skeets Neimiah into elite wide receivers if we can just get them to improve their hands.
You are fad like sticky wall walkers, or invisible dogs. You remind me of when the Rubiks Cube came out and it was the very wonder of my 8th grade existence. Oh wow! How can you solve this thing? It's like so, complicated!
Rumor had it one of your buddies had solved his Rubiks Cube, but it took almost a week. Still you were amazed. But then the next week, the Asian kid on the bus who's dad was a doctor could solve not just HIS, but YOURS too, all before the bus pulled into the parking lot!
Look, most of this is not your fault. The media has been very unfair to you. That's right, I said UN-fair. Because the media – ahem – ESPN, let's just say for example, has packaged, shined and hyped you to the moon and back, and milked you every step of the way.
I can assure you, there's never before been a 46% throwing quarterback on an 8-8 team that got the column inches, television features, or sports talk radio minutes as you.
And sadly, THIS has been the shallow dirty puddle of water which has bred hatred of your mediocre-ass quarterbacking like a swarm of mosquitoes in the summer.
Right now, the ride is all parade waves and roses. But trust me, when your game gets reverse engineered like a knockoff handbag at a counterfeiters convention, the backlash will be fierce. Because most NFL fans can sort out the steak form the gristle.
And just because Skip Bayless comes on TV and screams like the late Billy Mays insisting the league simply CANNOT live without you, it doesn't mean we are picking up the phone to buy it.
We know who the elite practitioners of this position are in the league. And you ain't one of them. Not now, not tomorrow, not ever. Not with that gorilla-flinging-a-coconut motion of yours.
So it's really best that it all starts wrapping up now. The sooner for you to maybe transition to a more sustainable position like fullback or TE. Where, hey, you can still quote the Bible, hug sick kids, flex your guns at overturned replays on the bench, and Tebow in prayer until every single leper is cured.
So good luck Timmy. Your fans now hate me more than ever. And no matter how bad you play on Saturday night, I can assure you that come Monday, they'll still say: I'm the bad guy.