Why Timothy Richard Tebow Makes Me Hate Jesus

I can remember in the not so distant past when being an elite quarterback meant that you were good at football. I can recall Phillip Rivers throwing for over 300 yards in a playoff game without an ACL. Hell, Brett Favre’s first action at Southern Miss was after a mighty bender causing him to throw-up on the sideline, and he still went out there and threw a pick six, like a badass.

Enter Tim Tebow, a young Filipino boy who managed to win two National Championships by lining up in the Shotgun and running the option. Now, I don’t by any means hate the kid, I just hate everyone who thinks that he is the second (or third) coming of Christ. He isn’t. I will tell you what he is: a below average scrambler, an even worse passer and above all, incredibly annoying. While I was on Spring Break octo-bonging tequila and wading knee-deep through loose women with low self-esteem, he was in the Philippines building churches and performing amateur surgery.

Building churches and helping minorities is in itself, a great act of valor, but get it off of ESPN. If I wanted to watch about other peoples’ good deeds I’ll watch Joel Olsteen on PBS at 3 in the morning.

Most importantly, Tim Tebow is a horrible NFL quarterback. He may be a “really great guy,” but so is that dude from Little People, Big World, and he would most likely be a subpar quarterback (don’t quote me on that). Tebow can’t complete a pass, and when he does, it’s a 3-yard check down pass that you learned to throw in the 5^th grade when you ran the ball 95% of the time.

Currently there are 33 quarterbacks in the NFL from last year that threw higher than 50% in the regular season. Tebow was not one of them. There were 27 quarterbacks who had a higher QBR than him. So, why in the hell do people want to wear a jersey of a shitty quarterback? I don’t see anyone wearing Jamarcus Russell jerseys (except of course Russell’s promethazine dealer, who basically got about half of Russell’s NFL salary) or David Carr jerseys, for the simple reason that they suck at what they get paid to do.

This great nation is actively supporting mediocrity, mediocrity promotes socialism, socialism promotes a shitty standard of living and shitty standard of living promotes terrorism. Thomas Jefferson would have bitch slapped this kid.

DAMMIT BCS!!!

I'm pissed off, so I'm going to tell the internet about it. The BCS again boned Boise State from any opportunity to get national recognition. "Well, they lost to TCU and didn't play anybody good all year!" says uneducated college sports fan. They beat the SEC East winner Georgia, additionally they lost to TCU on a missed field goal and TCU (10-2) is a talented team this year. That one loss definitely took them out of the National Champion game, that's completely reasonable but, I expected a good BCS Bowl match up between a decent SEC school like South Carolina (10-2) perhaps Arkansas (10-2) or a Big 12 team like Kansas State (10-2) or Oklahoma (9-3). Nope! Screw that! Y'all are going to play Arizona State (6-6) team who just fired their head coach and has lost to Washington State (4-8) and Arizona (4-8).

I fully respect Chris Petersen's decision on calling out the BCS after waiting patiently for 5 years and posting a record of 44-3 in the regular season and 3-2 in bowl games. Boise State is good dammit! I'm sorry that you can't make money off of a team that no one cares about but at least protect the sanctity of the game and allow the best teams to play each other. Also, I need to clarify that I am not saying Boise State deserves to play for the National Championship, they deserve to be in one of the four other bowl games the BCS hosts.

And now I'll vent on how stupid it is for Alabama & LSU to have a rematch. Very simply Alabama had it's chance and they lost. End of story. Let someone else lose to LSU this year. It makes no sense for two teams from the same conference to play each other, and it makes less sense that it's a rematch. So everyone can get a good mental image of how little sense this makes I'll paint you a picture.

I play my friend Frank in beer pong. Now, me and Frank are really really badass beer pong players, in fact we are so good that I'm #1 in the world according to robot-polls and he's #2 according to that same poll. We play and I beat him in a regular sanctioned beer pong event in my beer pong mansion. My friend Doug is also a very badass beer pong player he's ranked #3 by robots. Unfortunately I don't play Doug very often because I like to play at my sweet ass mansion that I only let really shady people play in and he only plays at his house which is kind of nice but he's got a few poor friends who aren't very established beer pong players.

So the BPCS (Beer Pong Championship Series) gives me a call and says that they are flying me out of my mansion to play beer pong in front of millions of people to prove that I am the best beer pong player in the world this year. I gladly accept and ask who I will be playing. They say Frank. I say, "Well, I've already beaten Frank this year, so I'd rather play Doug. I hear that Doug is pretty damn good this year."

They say, "Well, Sam that guy lost to some dick in Iowa, and so our robot advisers have deduced that Doug sucks ass."

I say, "I've beaten Frank once this year, so if he somehow beats me will we get a third game for the grudge match?"

They say, "Nope, if you lose, you aren't the best beer pong player in the world this year."

Well, I guess I'll play Frank again, but I really think it would have made a lot more sense if I played Doug I thought. Then it hits me! I know what can solve all of our problems! I call the BPCS and say, "Hear me out, I've been watching a lot of baseball, volleyball, basketball, hockey, soccer, chess, handball, 4-square, kickball and cricket, and in those sports they do something called playoffs! It seems like it's pretty smart."

They promptly said, "Don't be an asshole," and hung up. One and half months later I was watching Frank and Doug playing for the National Beer Pong Championship on Fox or CBS or NBC. DAMMIT BPCS!!!!

The End