Okay, enough is enough. It's time to set the record straight, call a halt to the hysteria, dam the ever-rising tide of expectations. Say it with me, folks: "He's not the Messiah, he's a very naughty boy."
Of course, by "Naughty," I mean he's a player with a never-ending capacity to surprise at the end of games. Chicago fans could probably come up with a far more pithy response than merely 'naughty.' It might start with 'Lucky...' and end with a word that is rather naughty.
Luck, good fortune, kismet, extreme coincidence, providence, call it what you will. Just don't call it divine intervention, destiny or anything else with religious overtones, or my Monty Python quotation button will go into overdrive. "I say you are, Lord, and I should know; I've followed a few." You see, there it goes again.
Admittedly, the headline in the New York Times about the 'Mile High Messiah' WAS a good one; eminently chuckle-worthy, laugh-out-loud-able, even. But can we just hold on to the hyperbole for a while?
The media frenzy here over the gutsy-but-limited former Florida star and Heisman Trophy winner is spinning wildly out of control.
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Tim Tebow does NOT walk on water; Superman does NOT wear Tim Tebow pyjamas; and Tim Tebow does NOT know "what Jesus would do."
The media frenzy here over the gutsy-but-limited former Florida star and Heisman Trophy winner is spinning wildly out of control, mesmerised by a dramatic seven-game winning streak that reached new heights of implausibility with last Sunday's logic-defying 13-10 overtime triumph against Chicago.
And now New England visit Invesco Field at Mile High on Sunday (live on SS3 from 9.30pm) and it's Tim v Tom (Brady), Surly Bill v The Sainted One and the Evil Patriots against the Never-Say-Die Broncos. Hype? How many ways can you spell Off The Charts?
It's on ESPN and Fox Sports; it's in Sports Illustrated and the Wall Street Journal (yes, seriously); and it's on CBS, NBC, ABC and every other channel with letters in its name. Heck, it's even been on the Comedy Channel.
Tebow or not Tebow, that is the question. "Whom would you have me release?" Oops, it's going off again.
Anyway, the bottom line is that the media scrutiny over Tiger Tim has to be reined in before we bust a left-handed gusset. Yes, of course the Broncos-Patriots match-up is a huge game with massive play-off implications and this high-profile made-for-TV drama is an across-the-board fascination. We get that.
But can we just focus on the sporting relevance rather than the celebrity tittle-tattle of whether he is or isn't dating downhill skiing pin-up Lindsey Vonn or if this has some kind of religious significance (again, yes, seriously)?
You could be forgiven for thinking Tebow is running for office rather than merely playing football; in fact, if they had a vote tomorrow, you'd have to think Barack Obama could easily be out of a job.
The (sporting) talking heads have been dissecting Sunday's fairly astonishing win over the Bears to the nth degree, and beyond; the seven-game winning streak since John Fox handed the keys of his offence to the 24-year-old has also been put under the microscope of examination like never before; and I'm currently listening to the pundits discussing his winning ways - at High School.
Yowser and wowser. Is there nothing else in the gridiron firmament this week? Well, apart from the reigning champs being unbeaten and on course to set an NFL record for successive wins; apart from Houston arriving in the play-offs for the first time in their history behind a rookie third-string quarterback; and apart from James Harrison becoming the first player to receive a full suspension for a helmet-to-helmet hit (and missing a huge showdown with San Francisco next Monday). Not a lot, really.
But, taking my cue from the inimitable Sports Illustrated and NBC writer/reporter Peter King, Tim Tebow is THE story of the year - if we just confine ourselves to the Xs and Os, the pros and the cons and the sheer 'How on earth did they do THAT?' spectacle of what has unfolded in the past two months in the heart of the Rocky Mountains.
As my wife will attest, the volume in the Veness household hit new levels last Sunday afternoon as we watched the latest incredulous instalment of the Broncos' Houdini act. I mean, their offence had been all but non-existent for 57 minutes of complete Chicago domination, albeit the Bears were only 10 points ahead.
Even after an unlikely Denver touchdown (with Lovie Smith's defence looking panic-stricken at times), there were only 128 seconds left and they couldn't get the ball back. Surely the visitors would run out the clock and end the Winning Streak once and for all? Only, Marion Barber ran out of bounds and gave Tebow One Last Chance.
But even then, they could only just scrape to the very edge of kicker Matt Prater's ranger. Surely you don't see last-second 59-yard field goals in this day and age? Oops, here we go to overtime. But, surely, Barber was ready to make amends and just needed to get another couple of yards to set up Robbie Gould to end this latest Mission Impossible?
What's that? A fumble? The Broncos now in field goal range after more pinpoint Tebow passing? Prater ready to kick a 51-yarder to win it? He did?? He DID. HOW CAN THAT HAPPEN?
You get the idea. My sporting rationale and neutral analysis were out the window and off down the road at a rate of knots. The moral of this story? It just isn't possible to stay cool, calm and collected when this impossibly cool customer is under center.
And now the stakes are raised still further; it is the Patriots, in prime time, with a play-off place at stake (a Denver win and losses for Oakland and San Diego would all but seal it, especially as the Broncos' last two games are against no-hopers Buffalo and Kansas City).
It is the kind of script even Hollywood wouldn't dare to write as too utterly ridiculous, too absurd, too far-fetched, too totally Monty Python.
But, I ask you, what have the Tebows ever done for you...?