Fri Aug 28 06:27pm EDT
Among the many reasons it's great to be Tim Tebow -- fame, imminent fortune, enormous physical skill, staunch spirituality, smoldering ambition, genuine humanity, political contacts, amateur medical skills, close relationships with fun-loving teammates, overflowing trophy cases, rippling biceps, a winning smile, the adulation of the national media and the adoring affection of thousands of scantily clad female fans whom he has no use for -- the New York Times' Pete Thamel uncovered another today in a very long, very in-depth interview: A light course load.
Often overlooked on top of his feats of physical and philanthropic strength is that Tebow's also an excellent student (a self-reported 3.72 GPA in Family, Youth and Community Service, and you know Tebow cannot tell a lie) and has essentially graduated in three years. There's only one course between him and the cap and gown in December, and it's not exactly a "make or break" affair:
Q. A light semester coming up, I assume?
Q. Ballroom dancing like Matt Leinart?
A. (laughs) Easier.
Q. What do you have?
A. I guess the class that I would have is senior seminar. It’s one hour and one credit. It’s on Tuesday afternoons and we have practice. I’m going to work around that with the professors. I’m going to do whatever my counselor sets up. I’m a football player this semester.
Translation: "I'll write a couple pages about the Phillippines after the SEC Championship and then I am never setting foot inside a classroom again." (Unless it's one he built with his own hands for third-world orphans, obviously.)
The class Tebow would have -- presumably, something along the lines of "Synthesis and Structural Properties of Tebow According to Phases of Awesomeness" -- will be replaced by football: Tebow says he'll be in every game-planning meeting, "just like a coach," which is either redundant or absolutely terrifying considering Tebow is already long past that stage in his career where his brain is a near-literal extension of the coaches' on the field. One of the things that struck me when the cameras lurked around the sidelines during timeouts in the 3-D broadcast of last year's national championship game was how long Tebow spent on the headset before entering the huddle, taking in every word from upstairs until the last possible second. That dynamic may change slightly this year with Steve Addazio and Scot Loeffler in former offensive coordinator Dan Mullen's seat in the press box, but it will probably still be closer to a peer-to-peer conversation than any other player-coach relationship in the country.