In all fairness, I have no idea what Tebow is saying. He could be pleading for the return of our troops in Afghanistan, or for the violence in Syria to stop. But seeing how Denver is down by four points with two minutes to go, I'll bet my kingdom in Heaven he's not asking for anything outside himself. Praying for strength, or guts and glory so your football team can go to the playoffs makes you look like a douche, Tim. I don't care how much money you make; you're goals aren't that important. Jesus has a lot on his plate. There's no way your playoff hopes are even warming in His oven.
Lean in, Tim. Let me tell you something. If you put half the effort into studying pictures of defenses, talking with the offensive coordinator, rallying receivers, patting the offensive line on the back than you do praying, maybe you'd have scored more than three points. Besides, where is the praying getting you? A soon to be nice spot on your season-ending sofa is where. Jesus doesn't belong to a fantasy league, Tim. He could care about your little game's outcome. But Satan? I hear he runs a fantasy league worth billions.
With all your look-at-me-sincerely-praying-even-though-I'm-not-stuck-on-a-roof-after-a-hurricane-or-in-a-burning-building, I like the idea that the Devil is fucking with you.
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