Through My Eyes

by Tim Tebow

  In middle school, my mom assigned me to do a report on Eric Liddell, of Chariots of Fire fame. I was impressed by his courage of convictions, and I really identified with his statement, “I believe God made me for a purpose, but he also made me fast. And when I run I feel His pleasure.” I always thought since God gave these gifts to me, my role in that exchange was to play as hard as I could and continue giving Him the honor and glory for it. To me that would be the very best way of thanking Him for the ability. If I didn’t work as hard as I knew I could, then I think it would be a little bit like saying, “God, thanks for giving me this ability, but I don’t really care about it. I’m going to do something else, and I’m not going to work quite as hard.”

  As you can probably guess, my view leads to constantly evaluating my performance and the performances of those I count on. I was two things to this team: a leader and a Christian. As a leader, I needed to be in front and set an example. As a Christian, I needed to lead in a manner that was pleasing to Christ. This ethic can lead to conflict if those around me do not agree.

  A good example of this conflict came when I was a freshman. The team was running the stadium steps one morning around six o’clock. We always began our workout when it was still dark in the Swamp. I was determined to finish first; however, to make it more meaningful, I wanted to start in the back. As I would pass each player going up the stadium steps, I would encourage them to push harder. One teammate was offended by my comments. He gave me a real bad look and said he was doing what he thought was right. I kept going and finished a long time before he did. In the locker room, and well after everyone else had gone, I asked why he was not running any harder.

  To my surprise, he used God in his explanation. He said, “God told me this morning to stay back and run with this guy because I needed to encourage him.”

  To be honest, I was livid. Here was a very talented athlete, a team leader, and an outspoken Christian believing God wanted him to be a bad example to the team. You can see the conflict in our thinking.

  I may have overstepped, but as a leader and fellow Christian, I felt I needed to confront him. I told him that he was being extremely lazy and inappropriately using God as an excuse. “If you want to bring God and spirituality into this, then you need to obey the authorities that God has put into your life. Coach Mick and Coach Meyer are your authorities, and to not work hard after they specifically told everyone to do so, and called you out about your low effort, is wrong. Because they told you that, it is not acceptable to say that God told you to stay back and run with someone to influence or encourage him.”

  After pausing to let all this sink in, I added, “Maybe if you ran harder, you would influence that person to run harder himself. You are not being a good leader to anyone by being lazy, and using God as an excuse is unacceptable.”

  If this incident on the stadium steps was the only example of this attitude, I would not have mentioned it. Though it sounds harsh to say, I feel this guy’s public walk was not matching his talk at all. He was always inviting guys to go to church but as a couple of us would tell him, “We need you to go to class because there are many guys here who will follow the example you set and do what you do, or don’t do. So if you begin to do the right thing, they, in turn, will begin to do the right thing by following you.” He would sleep in and arrive late to meetings or miss class and use the excuse that he was up late at a Christian meeting on campus. Then, his entire running group on the football team would have to run extra as punishment because he missed class. Everyone in the group knew the truth, and having to run for his lack of commitment and his lack of integrity did not sit well with them.

  We had several talks after that incident on the stadium steps, but he never changed his attitude, and I never viewed his lackadaisical approach or religious excuses as acceptable.

  Similarly, we’d be in the weight room and Coach Mick would tell us to do fifteen reps. I’d stand behind this guy, and he’d do twelve, then stop; I’d ask if he did them all, and he’d say, “Yeah.”

  In general, I don’t care for cheaters and liars, but I have a much higher standard for people who profess to be Christians. This guy was a particular challenge for me. Part of leadership is understanding those we are trying to lead—what makes them tick, what will help them share the vision—and I simply never got to that position where I understood him. To me, our Christian witness matters, and it’s what people see when they are watching us. When we think we can do less than our best, when we think others are not watching, we’re cheating ourselves and the God who created us.

  To me, the best example for being tough and bold and being a Christian is, of course, demonstrated by my Savior, Jesus Christ. It’s important to stand behind what you believe in, and sometimes there are some judgment calls to be made—I understand that. Growing up, there were always those people who didn’t think that my parents should let me play sports because I sometimes missed Sunday-night church when I was in a championship game, or I would go to Wednesday-night football practice instead of Wednesday-night church service. But no matter where I was physically, my parents were always working on my heart and trying to balance that with the right amount of fellowship and growth.

  This team member became a burden on my heart that never really changed. Coach Meyer could never get through to him, either, and I know it weighed on him too. So much potential wasted. As you can tell by now, this guy’s attitude was driving me crazy, and if it had been up to me, you can imagine he probably wouldn’t have been on our team if he hadn’t changed his ways.

  In the meantime, however, we had other guys who were learning about matters of faith and growing in that faith. They were going to be accountable to do what was right, to do their best, because they cared about the persons next to them. I know that is a lot of what Jesus would have talked about and actually did talk about.

  When I was growing up, my parents knew how competitive I was and how I always wanted to win, so they tried to point out that truth within the teachings of Christianity as well. They challenged me to win rewards in heaven and to compete for those, so God will say, “Well done, My good and faithful servant.” Whatever you do, do it with all your heart.

  From the time we were very young, Mom and Dad would talk to us about sticking up for someone who was being bullied, talking to someone whom no one else would talk to, or befriending a kid who wasn’t popular at church. My parents would see us trying to do those things and would reinforce those behaviors by telling us that God will honor that action of showing His love to others as much as anything else we might do for Him. I think we should hear a lot more of that in church, or perhaps we do and I missed those times. Things like encouraging the guys who are down after practice, or talking to a kid who’s sick, or making friends with the kids who aren’t cool, even though it’s not your first reaction. Most of the time you end up having better relationships with those kids and you find out they really are cool.

  In spending time talking to sick kids, I find that I get more joy in those moments than I could have imagined. Usually, you kind of go in because you think it’s right and assume they will be better for the time you spent with them. But then when you leave, you find yourself thinking, That wasn’t the right thing just for him, it was the right thing for me. And you leave better and blessed.

  I also have a heart for people who can’t defend themselves or are not really good in sports. They tend to be taken advantage of and mistreated—bullied even. I try to stand up for them as I’ve always thought that’s the right thing to do. If God has given me the strength and the courage to play sports, the least I can do is stand up for the people who don’t have others to do it for them. That applies to any setting—whether it’s a Sunday-school class or a sports team, the worst player on the team or the best player having a bad day. That’s what my dad always said to us: try to make others feel how important they are, and find a way to make them feel involved in whatever you and your friends are doing. The message to us in living li
fe was always about simply doing the right thing. That honored God.

  And doing all those things that your coach or your parents or others in authority had asked you to do would also be honoring God. Doing what is right and doing what others in authority ask you to do demonstrates a way of treating other people the way you want to be treated.

  By the time fall was upon us, all our preparation was paying off in the confidence we had in our strength, stamina, and ability. We were ready to start the season—hungrier than we’d been all of last year. We opened the season with Hawaii, but unfortunately, it was a home game. Talk about a missed opportunity.

  Last year, leading up to the Heisman, June Jones, their head coach, was trying to pay a compliment to his quarterback, Colt Brennan, but in the process, he singled me out and not necessarily in a complimentary way. On ESPN one day I heard Coach Jones say that I was just a “system quarterback.” I wasn’t sure why he felt the need to label me and diminish my play, but he later said that wasn’t what he was trying to do at all. In any event, I was looking forward to playing against his team. Unfortunately, he took the head job at Southern Methodist University before we had the chance to play Hawaii.

  It was probably for the best.

  We didn’t play particularly well against the Warriors from the Islands, but we still won, 56–10. Interestingly, most teams talk trash—at least a little. Not these guys—not one word. We were a little concerned because we were playing Miami the next weekend. We weren’t quite there in our execution: my timing with the receivers, my accuracy, or our connection. Fortunately, the defense played very well.

  I did suffer a setback, however. Early in the game when I went to throw a block, a guy ducked as I lunged to hit him. I’m not sure how it all unfolded, but I rolled over him onto the ground, and he then ran over my right shoulder, the same one I’d hurt against Kentucky, and as a result I reaggravated the injury. I was so mad at myself. I had an AC sprain again, starting from the third play in the 2008 season.

  I knew God had a plan for it, but it was a little bit frustrating to be going through this again, especially on such a freak play. It was irritating to start the year hurt on a block, of all things.

  Still, I tried to look past the injury and just focus on our next game: Miami. Both teams were fired up for this game, and during the pregame warm-up I used so much energy that I had to regroup and regather myself to get a second wind. Maybe it was because of this excitement or maybe it was just the mood I was in; Miami was the first time I ever wrote a Bible verse beneath my eyes. I was getting ready to put on eye black before the game and trying to decide whether to wear the black paint stuff or the black patches that are like stickers. I thought maybe I could use a Sharpie to write a Bible verse on the eye black if I used the patches—I figured that black paint would just make a total mess.

  I wasn’t even sure if people would be able to see it, but I thought if they could, it might be a really simple way to share a great Bible verse with some folks in the television-viewing audience. And if somebody noticed and asked me about it, I’d have a chance to talk about things of real significance beyond football.

  The first verse that came to mind was one of my favorites, Philippians 4:13: “I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me.” That was perfect to summarize my approach to football, and it seemed like a good verse to go with the first time out of the box. Paul’s point is that Christ gives us the ability to be content with a little or a lot.

  I wrote it on the eye-black patches and wore the patches into the game. I don’t remember that it got a lot of attention, and I really hadn’t given any thought to whether I would do it again. As I recall, a few reporters asked me about it after the game. And so I continued to write Philippians 4:13 on the eye-black patches all through the rest of the season. Actually, I wrote PHIL under my right eye and 4:13 under my left—occasionally I’d have someone ask who Phil was and what that number had to do with him. And even that question gave me a chance to talk about things of eternal significance.

  On the opening drive against Miami we made some good plays to move the ball down the field, and I eventually hit Aaron Hernandez in the corner of the end zone for a touchdown. But it was all uphill from there, a tough game. They made some big plays and kept it somewhat close, but we played pretty well and managed to stay ahead, largely due to Aaron Hernandez who had a great game.

  Because it was early in the season, we were still getting used to who was doing what. In the off-season, we never fully know who our playmakers will be and who will emerge as focal points of the team. The year before, Louis Murphy had a good year, but he had been more of a Z receiver, while Bubba Caldwell, who was a senior, was the X receiver. The Z receiver is the one who lines up on the same side of the offensive line as the tight end (called the strong side of the line). The X receiver is the receiver who lines up on the other side of the offensive line—or on the weak side. The Y receiver is, in fact, the tight end himself. This year, with Bubba no longer on the team, Murph was going to slide into the X position, and the real question was: will Murph be able to handle the X position? He ended up being tremendous. We knew that Percy Harvin would continue to be great again this season, but we didn’t know who else would step up.

  The next question was: who was going to be the primary running back? Jeff Demps, Emmanuel Moody or Chris Rainey? The Miami game also gave us an opportunity to see who was going to step up, especially when we had the game somewhat under control. Murph stepped up and made some big plays from the wide-out position and put the game out of reach in the end. He scored on a corner pattern, which came right after a fifty-yard touchdown that was called back for an illegal man downfield. The play was a good response by our offense to the penalty.

  As for Murph, he’d been very good my sophomore year, but in that Miami game you could see he really was staking a claim to being the go-to guy in the 2008 season. His leadership and passion and, more than anything else, his competitive excellence would end up making a mark throughout that season. Miami was a big win for us and my only time to play against them, so I certainly didn’t want to miss this opportunity to come out on top. I wanted to make certain we did everything we needed to do to end up with a victory. I already had an 0–2 record against Auburn; I didn’t need any more winless records against rivals. The defense played well once again, holding them to only three points and 140 yards of total offense. Our 26–3 win was a total team effort—we scored early and finished up by scoring late.

  The next week we played Tennessee in Knoxville. The year before we’d beaten them pretty badly in the Swamp, so we knew they were going to come in motivated to turn that around. At the same time, they were the ones who won the SEC East Division the previous year, not us. We drove down the field and scored on our first possession of the game on a pass to Aaron Hernandez. We led 20–0 at the half, and Tennessee’s only points against our defense came on a Jonathan Crompton one-yard run in the second half, as we eased to a 30–6 win. It’s always good to win an SEC game, but it’s particularly big when you can go to Neyland Stadium in Knoxville with their 110,000 fans and come away with a big win.

  We had gotten through a tough early stretch and thankfully had a bit of a breather ahead, with Ole Miss coming into the Swamp.

  Chapter Seventeen

  The Promise

  Consider it all joy, my brethren, when you encounter various trials, knowing that the testing of your faith produces endurance. And let endurance have its perfect result, so that you may be perfect and complete, lacking in nothing.

  —JAMES 1:2–4

  We trailed in the overall series with Ole Miss by one game and would even it with a win. But more important than any history, we’d move to 2–0 in the conference for 2008. We were starting to play pretty well on offense, and we were looking to match the defense’s continuing high level of play in this week’s game.

  However, for some reason, we seemed to be in a funk the whole game. It’s hard to even explain. We started out fi
ne—moved the ball fairly well, scored some points, and went up 17–7 at halftime. Not a great half for us in what we anticipated would be a game that we controlled much more, but we were still leading. Usually there’d be a point in the second quarter where the internal switches would flip to On and we’d automatically feel some additional drive, get the momentum, and score a touchdown, or the defense would stop them, and then we’d begin to go about dominating them. But in the Ole Miss game we never felt that click or anything similar. Several times I thought we’d start blowing them out, because we really were better than they were. It was easy playing against them. Maybe that was the problem.

  Honestly, it’s hard to even explain some of the things that happened in that game.

  In the second quarter, we ran a shovel pass that turned out to be a great call by the coaches. It caught Ole Miss off guard. After his catch and run for a thirty-yard gain, Aaron Hernandez fumbled—our first turnover of the year. In the third quarter, on a read play, I was supposed to read the defensive end and the guy he commits to defend (me or the running back) to determine whether to hand the ball to the running back or fake the handoff and keep it. Brandon James and I both let go of the ball, and it fell to the ground. The defensive end—who himself had a read on everything that was happening—recovered our miscue on our own eighteen yard line. That was the only time I fumbled on a handoff exchange in my entire career at Florida.

  We knew we were so much better than they were, but we weren’t playing like it. Usually we found a way to win, but we struggled to find one that day. Near the end of the game they scored on a long touchdown pass thrown by Jevan Snead to go up 31–24. The Swamp was silent.

  We got the ball back, and I felt that there was no chance they would stop us now—we were going to will the ball down the field. I was right. We drove the ball right down the field for the tying touchdown, but the extra point that we needed for the tie was blocked. The score was 31–30.