Tim Tebow: The Honeymoon's Over Before It's Over

In "The Heartbreak Kid", Ben Stiller plays love's loser, an affable chap who's always too afraid of taking that next step which separates meaningful relationships from the disappointing trial runs. After some introspection and a new awareness of this shortcoming, he up and marries the very next woman he becomes serious with.

Clearly, this is a mistake.

Because this is Hollywood, and supposedly a Rom-Com (though not a very funny one), Stiller's character learns the depth of his folly on the very first day of his honeymoon. Indeed, he begins to have his doubts the moment they walk into their suite and have what is apparently their first difference of opinion. The stuff of filmic lore? Hardly. But useful in this instance as a metaphor.

You see, much like Ben Stiller's Eddie, the Denver Broncos threw in with the wrong person. Their significant other is Tim Tebow rather than Malin Akerman (though if it were Akerman, I would understand why), and as in the film, they know their honeymoon is over before it is, in fact, over. 

The Broncos will host (yes, host) the Pittsburgh Steelers next week in the AFC' Wild Card round, a travesty not dissimilar to last season's debacle in which the Seahawks at 7-9 hosted the Saints—and won. Four weeks ago, this prospect would have had the sports media in a tizzy; one can only imagine which of Rudyard Kipling's poems would have befit such an exciting and hopeful event. 

Today, however, the sentiment is considerably different. Following three performances ranging from ugly to atrocious, and three consecutive losses to match, the media no longer loves Tim Tebow (I heard a SportsCenter anchor mockingly refer to Kobe Bryant's 9-28 shooting performance Sunday night as "Tebow numbers."). Even the Tebow faithful are uncharacteristically mum regarding their alleged savior.

The magic is gone. There is simply no spark. The honeymoon is over. 

Platitudinous though this may be, my point nonetheless stands: the clock upon which Tebow Time runs has struck midnight and the scent of squash is decidedly in the air. Opponents no longer play soft zone coverages for Denver receivers to slip behind. Nor do they bite so easily on the run options that once allowed Tebow to roll out to the edges and turn innocuous plays into epic touchdown sprints.

By containing him within the pocket, teams are forcing Tebow to do the one thing he cannot: play the quarterback position.

Without dissolving coverage by extending plays with his legs, sleepy defenses assuming the game is in hand and alarmingly obtuse running backs fleeing for the sidelines when all they have to do is fall down, Tim Tebow looks every bit the Fullback-in-waiting most people assumed he was prior to his Cinderella-esque six-game win streak. 

He has gone from a player who paradoxically proved both his supporters and detractors right each week, to a man who looks like a third baseman trying to pitch in the 17th inning. 

This is the real Tim Tebow and though Denver knows the honeymoon is over, their first-round battle against the Steelers next week means there's one last dinner reservation to be kept. If you did manage to make it all the way through "The Heartbreak Kid," you might recall the scene in which Eddie tries to tell his new wife that they've made a terrible mistake over lunch at a lovely restaurant overlooking the ocean. If you didn't, suffice it to say something alleging itself to be hilarity ensues, and exclusively of the slapstick variety: there's a tumble over a low wall into the ocean, a man-o-war jellyfish and the grotesque homespun remedy for such stings. 

I expect the football equivalent of all that and more in Denver next week.