I have it on good authority that Tim Tebow isn’t starting anymore and is now third string quarterback behind two other players, Kyle Orton and Brady Quinn. (That’s what we sports people do, you see. We exchange sports-like information with our other sporty colleagues. It’s just a thing we do. It’s not a big deal.)
But since it’s no secret that there isn’t a shot in Hell of me actually knowing who these two men are, for the sake of this piece I immediately Googled both gentlemen. Now I don’t readily proclaim to be a sports expert (except when it comes to Black Thursday), but I will boldly make the assessment that it probably isn’t a good thing if this person is starting before you:
(He’s the one in the rear, a place I fear he’s all too comfortable being.)
And same goes for this Orton guy:
First of all, the girls he’s with in this picture looks like a dead ringer for a native Floridian, which is a huge red flag in and of itself (more on that issue later).
Secondly, while I respect a man who seems to have simultaneously mastered the Trash ‘Stache, the Goatee, AND the Chin Strap (albeit on the thick side), ALL AT ONCE, I’m still leery of him. His facial hair might be gettin’ it done at levels other beards could never dream of attaining, but does that mean he can get it done on the football field? Does that ‘stache swagger transfer into touchdowns? Does that goatee equal a field goal?
Do I really even care?
The answers to all of these questions are a resounding: “No.”
But what I DO care about is what poor Timmy might become should his football career not pan out as he expected.
In no particular order:
1. My husband.
Not because I necessarily want him to be, but because this is something Trudy Frank (my mother, this is her real name and no she didn’t star on any African-American sitcoms in the 1980’s) has sacrificed much of her time, energy and mental stability to try and make happen. She would have it all lined up for ole Tim, so he wouldn’t even have to try very hard. He would easily attain the coveted stay-at-home husband position, which would be a nicely padded transition into the real world for him.
Trudy has entirely too many ways to get in touch with me, and she uses all of those mediums to their full capacity to solicit Tebow propaganda on a weekly basis.
Just last week I was sent an email with nothing but a link, and a “Love, Mom.” The link took me to video footage of Tim running up and down a football field for upwards of twelve minutes. I didn’t mind though, because I immediately recognized this as incredible tweeting material and thanked her profusely for that.
This, in turn, was a HUGE mistake, because I then immediately received the following email:
“Hayley, could you please put out a twitter asking them for Tim’s email address? If I can get his email address, I can definitely get y’all married. Also, has anyone tweetered about me? Can you let me know? Thanks. Love, Mom.”
Trudy admittedly knows all of three things about Tim Tebow, and one of those things comes from the Nike commercial. I know this because one day I finally asked her why she was so adamant about this endeavor. (The following is, fortunately or unfortunately, real correspondence between me and my mom.)
Me: Trudy, why are you pushing Tebow so hard? Realistically, don’t you think I should focus on getting regular, non-famous men to actually call me back first before I zero in on Tim Tebow?
Trudy: Hayley, Tim is simply a wonderful man who wears John 3:16 on his face. What a testimony! I think he would make a wonderful son-in-law from what I have seen on the TV and on the web sites.
(Not sure what “the web sites” entails, but I don’t ask questions.)
Also, I think you and Tim would make beautiful babies.
(Ah, okay—now the real reasons are coming out.)
I am sure that his mom and I could get along very well. We could share your kids, and she would not hog them all to herself.
(Not sure why Trudy has so much blind faith in Mrs. Tebow’s grandchildren-sharing abilities, but again, I just smile and nod.)
Lastly, I have read that he is still a virgin. Now I don’t know if I believe that, but it sounds good.
(Because as long as it sounds good, who cares if it’s true? “As long as it sounds good” has been our family mantra for as long as I can remember.)
2. Trudy’s husband.
“But Trudy’s married,” you might scoff. Yes, Trudy is happily married to Tom Frank, a man who has been known to drive up and down his office parking lot on his lunch breaks in a golf cart he titled “The Stud Mobile” that he found at a flea market. He also sports a luxurious, majestic mustache. So, you can see the appeal there. But if Trudy can’t incorporate Tim into the family via me, she’ll have to get creative.
“But I’m married,” is such a tired and obsolete excuse. Do you think Whoopi Goldberg said, “But I don’t know how” when someone (read: everyone) asked her to stop coming into our homes every morning via ABC and mercilessly raping our eardrums? Or “But I can’t,” when someone asked Dane Cook to be funny? Or “But ew, I don’t wanna,” when someone asked Ryan Seacrest to have sex with a woman? Or “But I’m not,” when someone asked Stephen Baldwin to be relevant?
None of those people said those things. They didn’t make excuses, and they knew what they had to do. Some of them succeeded (Ryan Seacrest, allegedly), while others did not (Everyone Else). But the point is, if Tim is hard up for a Plan B, Trudy would be on the sidelines welcoming him with open arms, open heart, and a Gatorade.
Trudy knows I have a few staunch, unwavering rules when it comes to dating: no beefcakes, no meatheads, and no Crocs. That’s all I ask.
Although I’m not 100% sure about Tim’s Crocs status, I would venture to say he definitely fits the bill for the other two. Moreover, up until recently, I’ve always had an inexplicable fetish for men in skinny jeans (I’m slowly working on repressing these desires) and the thought of Tim savagely stuffing his thick, meaty thighs, which are roughly the size of my entire torso, into the legs of skinny jeans was something that made me sad inside. So, much to Trudy’s dismay, Tim doesn’t make the cut in my little black book.
But if Tom ever shaves that mustache again, all bets are off.
3. Male Underwear Model
This one doesn’t need much explaining. (Especially since Tebow already has the Haynes deal. Thisis kind of a foregone conclusion). Just wanted to throw something in here for the ladies.
Men, you got the Nancy Grace nip slip this week, and what did we get?
Nothing but Chaz Bono in a leotard.
So, this one goes out to all my ladies (and to that one guy reading this who’s really confused about what he was feeling when he saw Chaz Bono in a leotard.)
Remember girls: you can look, but you can’t touch. Mainly because Tim isn’t into that kind of thing. (And also because Trudy might shank you in the thigh with a rusty kitchen utensil when you’re not looking.)
4. Ambassador for the state of Florida.
I don’t know about y’all, but this is what I generally think of when I think of Florida:
Granted, I have no way of knowing if these are indeed Floridians, but I feel pretty confident in saying they are at least a highly accurate prototype of the society. (If I asked you to tell me what SEC fan base these three guys rooted for every single one of you would immediately guess Florida. Also, the only thing worse than photoshopping your own images is not being smart enough to spell “where” correctly while ridiculing douchebags. )
Who are these people, why do they hate us, and how do we stop them from procreating? But most importantly, does the man on the right have nipple piercings?
And ladies, you aren’t immune to this stereotype either. If you’re from Florida, I can almost guarantee that at some point in your life, you resembled something along the lines of this:
Surely I can’t be the only one buying into this truth, right? (Although, maybe I am, when Clay saw the picture of these two girls he texted, “I am moving to Florida to find slutty Tinkerbell’s friend.” One second later another text arrived: “P.S. Don’t tell Trudy. I think she likes me.”)
So if this isn’t how Floridians really are, then Tim Tebow had better step up to the plate and correctly represent his people. Without football practice taking up all of his time, he could easily take it upon himself to become a spokesperson of sorts and single-handedly revamp Florida’s image. This would definitely be a full-time job, so it would keep his mind busy and off of those painful football memories of the past.
5. Other type of sports player.
Okay, here comes everyone’s favorite part where I earnestly try to showcase my extensive sports knowledge for all of y’all’s callous, insensitive enjoyment. (You’re all going to Hell for that, you know.)
Isn’t it just common sense that if you aren’t excelling at one thing, you should just switch to another? Like, if you aren’t good at the whole college thing, then you should strongly consider professionally wiping down tanning beds with disinfectant between uses for each Floridian who comes into the salon?
I mean, if Hakeem “The Dream” Olajuwan (running tally of my Houston Rocket’s Dream Team circa 1995 references on OKTC: 47 and counting) can switch from soccer to basketball and become one of the most incredibly talented, current, relevant athletes of today (in my mind), then why can’t Tim Tebow do the same?
I’m sure there are other athletes who have alternated sports, but I’m at a loss currently. I could’ve sworn Tiger Woods was one of them, but every time I tried Googling “Tiger Woods’ multiple sports” all it kept bringing up was “Tiger Woods’ multiple mistresses.” So, I’ll leave this one for you guys to discuss amongst yourselves. In fact, what should Tebow do? Feel free to run rampant in the comments section and beat my five suggestions. I know, I know, “other type of sports player” is going to be tough to beat. But I’m confident you guys can manage.
Just be aware that Trudy Frank will read everything you write. And if your comment is too good she’s probably going to suggest I marry you. So be forewarned.