Tim Tebow is trending once more, and the reaction says less about him than about us.
A man who once drew stadium-wide prayer circles now surfaces mostly as a punchline or a nostalgia trip.
We built him up as a symbol, then punished him for staying in character.
We spent 2011 screaming "Tebowing" from couch to couch, bought the jerseys, watched the Broncos win ugly games on faith and fourth-quarter luck.
Then Denver signed Peyton Manning, and the same crowd that chanted his name moved on without a backward glance.
The deeper issue is what we demand from the people we elevate.
Tebow was never the best quarterback in the league, and nobody serious claimed he was.
But he was earnest in a way that made people uncomfortable—openly religious, openly sincere, allergic to irony.
In a culture that now rewards detachment and punishes conviction, sincerity reads as a flaw.
So we decided he was a fraud, because believing he was genuine would require something of us.
Sports talk shows needed a villain, so they made him one.
Late-night hosts needed a punchline, so they found it.
A man who volunteered at hospitals and built a foundation for special-needs kids became a running joke, and the joke was always the same: he's too much.
Too sincere, too public about his faith, too unembarrassed.
That's a confession about the rest of us.
Now watch the pattern repeat with the next earnest kid who comes along.
Some college quarterback who thanks God in a postgame interview will get the same treatment: canonized in September, mocked by November.
We have a sincerity problem, and it's getting worse.
Here's where it touches daily life, not just sports.
The same instinct that made Tebow a target now runs through offices, classrooms, and group chats.
Say something you actually mean, without a wink, and watch the room stiffen.
Admit you pray, or that you're trying to be a decent person, and someone will assume you're performing.
We have trained ourselves to distrust anyone who isn't in on the joke.
That's a lonely way to live, and it's spreading.
Tebow's actual athletic résumé is thin, and that's fine.
Most of us are mediocre at most of what we do.
The difference is that we never had to do it in front of 70,000 people while the country decided our character was a bit.
Whatever you think of his career, the way we treated him says something ugly about how quickly Americans turn on people who don't flinch.
The loudest voices in this country now belong to people who mock belief and call it bravery.
Final Thoughts
That's rot dressed as sophistication, and it's hollowing out the way we treat each other one smug post at a time.