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God answers Tebow Hotline after loss

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Wednesday, Dec. 21, 2011 10:26 PM
Denver Broncos quarterback Tim Tebow (15) is consoled by defensive tackle Marcus Thomas (79) in the final minutes of the team’s loss to the New England Patriots in Denver on Sunday.

God switched his heavenly TV off and walked outside for a breath of fresh air.

Watching Denver Broncos quarterback Tim Tebow get sacked for a 29-yard loss in the fourth quarter of Sunday’s game was just too much.

The God of all gods heard his son, Jesus, flick the 120-yard-wide, high-definition, holographic 3D, jumbotron TV back on to catch the game’s waning minutes.

Jesus is a big Broncos fan.

God leaned on the alabaster railing of his balcony and looked down at the world he created. The Earth still had some beauty to it, God thought, with intricate snowflakes, the perfume of wild honeysuckle, the music of waterfalls and other mysteries of nature. Even mankind — with all its war, pestilence, larceny, starvation, pollution, overpopulation, endangered species, and politicians — still had a few bright spots.

But the National Football League was an entirely different story: contract disputes, injured players, bad referee calls, ESPN commentators, God’s favorite player falling in the fourth quarter like an angel slamming to the turf.

What’s a god to do?

After all, on the Seventh Day, the Lord created football. With so much at stake for mankind’s day of rest, God wondered if even he could make the NFL better. During the final seconds of the Broncos game Sunday, God closed his eyes, twisted his white beard between forefinger and thumb, and pondered wayward mankind.

Finally, the Lord opened his eyes, shook his head, and said, “Come on, man.”

Moments later, a buzzer went off on the marble coffee table in front of God’s favorite chair. The great deity returned to his cumulous-cloud recliner, flicked on the buzzing Tebow Hotline, and saw the young quarterback’s image replace the heavenly TV’s god’s-eye view of Sports Authority Field at Mile High in Denver.

“Father,” said the lightly bearded man with No. 15 on his blue-and-orange jersey.

“Yes, son,” God answered.

“I have failed you,” the Broncos player said in an earnest, faltering voice.

God liked to watch his football life-sized, and all the players on his jumbotron appeared not only in three dimensions but also as large as they do in real life. So Tebow appeared to be kneeling on one knee in God’s Man Cloud with his unhelmeted head lowered reverently.

“New England defeated us 41-23 just now,” Tebow said. “They shot down my team’s six-game winning streak.”

“I know, Timmy,” the Lord responded. “But you have not failed me.”

“I prayed before and during the game,” Tebow said. “There was no fourth-quarter magic. Have you forsaken me?”

“No. It just wasn’t your destiny to beat the Patriots.”

“Oh,” the humble Tebow responded. “But Father, my competitive nature compels me to ask you why.”

“Well,” God said, his piercing, silver eyes set beneath bushy white eyebrows, “I have to give the Patriots a little credit for having faith in me.”

Kneeling at God’s feet, the holographic image of Tebow looked confused, worn out, and a bit punch drunk — probably from that 29-yard sack he took from Patriots outside linebacker Rob Ninkovich with a little over 2 minutes left in the game.

“I don’t understand,” Tebow said. “Have you ever had a more faithful NFL player? Born of missionaries, a priest in shoulder pads, biblical references written on my eye black during college games. …I even sang, ‘Our God is an awesome God,’” on the sideline during the Broncos’ overtime victory against Chicago last week.”

“I know, son,” the Lord said, feeling a tad guilty about letting his most faithful NFL star lose. “But man has to steer his own fate sometimes. Besides, I gave the ball a little nudge when Matt Prater kicked that 59-yard field goal with 3 seconds left in regulation and that 51-yarder in overtime Dec. 11 so the Broncos could beat the Bears 13-10.”

God paused in his cloud-recliner and reflected.

“I also helped you throw actual spirals and pass for 202 yards to beat the Minnesota Vikings 35-32 the week before,” the deity said. “I can’t just keep doing things like that. People are already suspicious about your fourth-quarter comebacks.

“Plus,” the Lord said, with a bit of mischief in his eyes, “the Patriots are so, well, patriotic. It does a nation good to see them win. And the United States’ motto is ‘In God We Trust.’ Compared to the Vikings — well, it doesn’t take an omniscient god to know they’re a bunch of pagans. I never did care for Odin and all his troublemakers.”

“I didn’t think about that, Father,” Tebow said. “And they do have a great quarterback. Tom Brady threw for 320 yards and two touchdowns against my team. Is that why he’s married to a fabulously beautiful Brazilian supermodel, Gisele Bundchen?”

“Thou shalt not covet thy fellow NFL quarterback’s wife, Timmy,” God said in a stern voice approaching thunder.

“Sorry, Father,” Tebow said.

“You should know by now that I answer your prayers and smile on your fortunes,” God said. “After all, I made you a left-handed quarterback so you could be the NFL’s Left Hand of God.”

The Lord looked over to his right, where Jesus was prying buttered popcorn bits out of his teeth with a silver toothpick.

“Two thousand years, and I still can’t convince this guy to get a decent haircut,” God said, motioning to the offspring of his Immaculate Conception. “I needed somebody with a bit more enthusiasm.”

Head still down in supplication, eyes closed, Tebow shifted his body slightly.

“Did the devil help Patriots defensive end Mark Anderson knock the ball out of my hands for a turnover?” the Broncos QB asked.

“No, Timmy,” God answered. “The devil’s mostly been out of football since the players-owners dispute ended. Beelzebub would rather dabble in corporate CEOs than NFL athletes, anyway.”

“Thank you for the reassurance, Father,” Tebow said. “But I’m worried about our final regular-season game, against Kansas City. The Chiefs stunned everyone with a 19-14 win over the undefeated Green Bay Packers on Sunday. And the Broncos quarterback I replaced, Kyle Orton, led the Chiefs with 299 passing yards.”

“Let your faith guide you, son,” God said. “You have helped spread my Word through your words and actions. Thousands of my children around the world have emulated your kneeling prayer, and a few of them might even pray sincerely. I enjoy all the photographs of people ‘Tebowing’ on http://tebowing.com, too. Tebowmania has done more for me than you ever could have through missionary work. Your faith will be rewarded.”

Eyes still closed in prayer, No. 15 couldn’t help but grin from ear to ear.

“It is a pleasure to worship you, Father,” the Broncos QB said. “I hope you will continue to answer my prayers during my quest for the elusive Holy Grail of the NFL: the Lombardi Trophy.

“Speaking of which,” Tebow added a bit hesitantly, “do you know who will win the Super Bowl?”

“Of course I know,” God thundered. “I’m omniscient. I just haven’t decided who should win yet.”

Tebow shuddered as the wrath of God thundered inside his head.

“Do not let greed poison you,” the Lord said. “Remember, it is easier for a quarterback with your passing skills to thread the eye of a tire at 20 yards than it is for a greedy QB to enter the Kingdom of God. Besides, I did answer your coach’s prayer for you to pass well enough to hit the side of a barn.”

“Of course, Father,” the humbled Tebow said.

“And,” the Lord said, “a godly breeze is blowing in New Orleans this year. All that voodoo in the bayou gives me the creeps, but after all, everyone on the team is a Saint.”

“Oh,” the devout Bronco said. “Well, thank you for hearing my prayers, Father.”

“Now,” God said, “I must answer the prayers of another NFL quarterback; one who hasn’t needed to pray for victory in a year. He’s mumbling incoherently about cheeseheads.”



Sources: National Football League, The Denver Post, Boston Herald, ESPN, The Associated Press, Wikipedia.



Russell Smyth is managing editor of the Cortez Journal. He can be reached at 564-6030 or russells@cortezjournal.com.

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