“…Ain’t no use to sit and wonder why…”

Thought perhaps that I’d hear from Tim Tebow this week. Figured perchance he’d care to speak, to seek consolation from one whom years earlier so clearly trudged his path.

My phone didn’t ring.

Many won’t see it, but I too once stood in Tebow’s shoes. Each of us, for example, celebrated NCAA National Championships while undergraduates. Mine came in ’69 (after the ’68 season); his was ’09—forty years later. Each of us, moreover, not only emerged from college highly touted, but weighing 250 as well.

That’s not, though, why I expected his call. It is, rather, the relationship thing. I get—I truly get—what happened to Tim this week. Been there–done that. There is a distinct parallel, you see, between his tenure in Denver and my long ago interaction with Rochelle.


Doubt clouded my beginnings with Rolo. There she was: sophisticated, fashionable, upscale and reasonably moneyed, and there I stood: meat ‘n potatoes. The only things we shared (perhaps) were values.

In time we morphed from friendship to “not dating” yet it served us well. In words unspoken (by me at least), we both knew it wasn’t for the long haul. Fact is I never had what she wanted…really.

Not much different, I suppose, with Tebow in Denver. In their collective hearts, did Bronco fans ever really think he was the one? Really? Sure he’d get them beyond Kyle Orton, but the Super Bowl? Could he do it for the long haul?

Neither Rolo’s friends nor family truly bought into our nexus. I knew well they liked me, even loved me, much more than they ever did our tandem. They saw with better eyes than mine that these were but seasons in the sun.

We had a good run, we did—but when it was time, it was time. No villains.

That summer night—when she called, said to bring my playbook…it hurt. “What did I do wrong?” I thought. (And the answer was Nothing). It was the first time in my life that no one misstepped and yet shit was happening.

There were no villains

I learned long ago that anything built on a lie is doomed to failure, (especially when I lie to myself). In retrospect, the run with Rolo was what it was: a bond between friends. Maximized, sustained, it has led to loving ties with her children, mine, her grandkids… Wouldn’t trade it for a moment, and to this day would take a bullet for Brother Matthew.

Likewise, Tebow’s tenure at Mile High was built on a lie. He wasn’t then, nor would he ever be John Elway. He wasn’t then, nor would he ever be The One.

Things tend to unfold exactly as they should.

Tebow’s run with Denver, too, was a season in the sun. They never truly bought into him out there and that’s just the way it was.

And they too, were right.

Another tenet learned long ago is that though the sun does set, it also rises. And that when it rises, it shines brighter than ever.

And…oh yeah…that sometimes there just aren’t villains.

        “…Don’t think twice, it’s all right….”

                            Bob Dylan

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