I, Tebow

Somebody needs to open up the access panel on Tim Tebow's back and make sure one of his control switches didn't get set to repeat. I tried to watch the press conference introducing him as the Jets latest sideshow, but the repeated answers just became too monotonous. Every response was canned and coached and, to his credit, delivered masterfully with a million dollar smile. He has been perfectly programmed by his handlers to output the optimum response every time. 

But can't we see the real Tim Tebow at some point? Will we ever see some actual emotion? He must have a warehouse full of pencils he's chewed into diamonds in order to keep that black lab attitude toward everything in life. He's the Ned Flanders of football. Everything is awesome. Everything is great. It's sickening.

Those of us who are imperfect and actually experience human emotion can only hope that somewhere Tebow has a secret room where he keeps the puppies he kicks when he's angry (not really, nobody condones kicking puppies) and that it's right next to the room where he keeps his drugs and strippers.

He does have a bit of an ego, though. In the press conference he stated that he had no intention of going anywhere to be the backup. That can only mean he went to New York with the intention of taking the starting job away from Mark Sanchez.

And that would make him the king of New York. He would have an even bigger platform to spread his message. Perhaps the biggest platform possible, and that might be even more important to him than anything else. Joel Osteen already has masses following him and hanging on his every word. Can you imagine if Osteen was the starting quarterback for the New York Jets?