Tebow May Be Greatest of All Time, but Not of Any Time

Saturday, Tim Tebow begins his senior football season at Florida. He's seeking his third national title, second Heisman, and something that is ultimately more difficult to quantify, the title of greatest college football player of all time. Of course, greatness is inherently subjective. And as soon as I say that Tebow is the greatest college football player of all-time, some of you will recoil as if I just slapped your mom on the derriere.

Few, if any, sports actually provide a clear demarcation between the greatest and second greatest of all time. At some point in the next week or so, I'll lay out all the criterion that I believe should be included in an honest analysis of whether someone is the greatest of all time. But until then, I've found myself wondering, what would happen if you took Tim Tebow, man-child as he is, and placed him in the past seven decades of college football?

Where would he fit? And would he come out of those decades looking more or less impressive than he does presently? Let's dive in and take a speculative look at what Tebow's historical legacy in football might have been.

Let's begin with a thesis: There is no point in football history when a player of Tim Tebow's talents could have been more statistically productive on offense than the present. Stewart Mandel at SI has run the numbers, but looking at them in the context of other top offensive players over the years proves how massively productiveTebow has really been. He's rushed for 43 touchdowns while passing for 67 in just three years. Those numbers don't even look real, they're video-game like, part of the Tebow mythology. In fact these numbers are so mythic that there's a tendency to assume that Tebow's skill set is so otherwordly he would have been equally dominant in every era of football. I don't think that's true.

In fact, I think one of the most fascinating things about the Tebow Era (honestly, we might as well start referring to this time period as T.E.) is that Tebow might have gotten lost in the football huddle if he'd arrived in college football just 10, 20 or 30 years before he did. Moreover what Tebow's extreme success shows us is that defining greatness requires, quite often, a relatively coincidental pairing of talent and timing.



The spread offense is perfectly crafted to suit Tim Tebow's game. And while we think of the spread as a recent entrant upon the college football landscape, it actually emerged in the late 1920's from Texas high school football. Being a conservative lot, football coaches didn't begin adopting the principles of the spread on higher levels of football until the late 1980s. Even then, the spread didn't emerge as a viable offensive system for a major college program to run until the late 1990s. Coaches like Mike Leach, Urban Meyer, and Rich Rodriguez finally popularized the spread to such an extent that a player like Tebow could arrive in college and fully unleash his talents both passing and running the football.

In fact, Meyer memorably told Florida recruit Jevan Snead, per Bruce Feldman's book "Meat Market," that he was recruiting Tebow as a linebacker. (If you've ever doubted the importance of timing, consider that Snead originally committed to the Gators before they signed Tebow, then signed with Texas only to sit behind Colt McCoy. Has a quarterback as good as Snead ever found himself in a situation where he's managed to be aced out by two of the best quarterbacks to play college football in the past quarter century?) Tebow's arrival and ascension to the top ranks of football players seems ordained now, but just five years ago there was a real question about whether Meyer's spread offense would work in the SEC. Moreover, Tebow seriously considered committing elsewhere, to Mike Shula's Alabama, if you can believe that.

Would the exact same Tebow signing with Alabama be entering his senior season with a chance to etch his name into the college football firmament as the greatest of all-time? Probably not, considering Shula's offense wouldn't have been likely to fit Tebow's skill set as well. Tebow would have been a good player at Alabama, but probably not a great one. Which got me thinking even more, generally we believe that today's players would excel at football in year's past. But is that really true for Tebow? I decided to dive into college football history and see how Tim Tebow, whom I consider the greatest player ever, would have fared in seasons of yesteryear.

Football pre-1930s

Tebow might well have become a United States president had he played in this era. His fame would have been that amazing. Certainly, he would be every bit what Jim Thorpe was to American football. Thorpe, who famously became one of the first athletes to ever go third person, when he remarked, "No one can tackle Jim," to his coach, Pop Warner, after trying out a running play for the first time, led the Carlisle Indians to a national championship and scored a then unheard of 25 touchdowns in 1912. Operating in a single wing as a tailback, Tebow, would be larger at 6-foot-3 and 240 pounds but probably a bit slower than Thorpe, who stood 6-1 and weighed 190. Even still Tebow would have been a dominant offensive force. Since he would be playing both ways and would be the largest man on the team, Tebow might even be more dominant defensively. So dominant that he'd be considered one of the greatest athletes in American sports history.

There's only one caveat, Tebow is so huge many coaches might have initially slotted him into the offensive or defensive lines rather than try him under center on offense. He would have been good there, but not great. Barring that size discrimination, we'd consider Tebow, as a single wing tailback, to have been one of the greatest players in football history.

1930s

The single-wing is supplemented with the first passing formations thanks to a regulation ball that allow the passing game to flourish. Still, passing is relatively rare. Sammy Baugh, quarterback at TCU, graduates with 39 career passing touchdowns which dwarfs all other competitors. How are Tebow's punts and punt returns? In this decade some of the most valuable players on the field are those who can control field position and steal field position on returns. Tebow likely remains dominant thanks to the introduction of the passing game and his continued viability as a single wing rusher. He would be every bit what Sammy Baugh was as a passer. Especially when you consider how erratic completions were for a quarterback. In three season as TCU, Baugh completed just 45.7 percent of his passes.

By the end of his career, Tebow is so dominant that songs are written in his honor. In the far west, a few cities sprout up with his name, Yep, you might have grown up in Tebowville.

1940s

The option offensive attack first arrives in college football. Tebow is not a prototypical option quarterback, he lumbers a bit too much, and lacks the top-end speed that most truly great option quarterbacks display. Even now Tebow has just a handful of runs of greater than 25 yards in his career. The point? Tebow isn't a homerun hitter when it comes to running the football.

Now the question, would he have been a home run hitter in 1940s football? Maybe. Even if he wasn't, can you imagine any defense from the 1940's keeping Tebow from gaining substantial yardage on every run? Likely, Tebow would have been a tailback in the mold of Army's Glenn Davis. In 1945, Davis averaged 11.5 yards per carry, still a record in college football, and went on to score 59 offensive touchdowns. Could Tebow have bested Davis as a running back?

Perhaps.

Would he have been such a home run hitter that we talk about him as one of the greatest football players of all time? That appears doubtful. Especially since Tebow's strength as a passer, a great arm even if he has an unusual throwing motion, wouldn't have been utilized at all. Tebow's skill-set would likely have placed him at running back. And with the brutal nature of the games, and all defenses stacked at the line of scrimmage, it's unlikely that Tebow, even if he was stupendous, would have amassed yardage totals that would still stand out today.

1950s

While the passing attack arrives in college football, running backs remain the big stars. From 1950 until 1960, only one quarterback, Paul Hornung of Notre Dame, wins the Heisman Trophy. And he also played tailback. Coaches continue to put the ball in their tailbacks hands instead of their quarterbacks.

So what position does Tebow play in this decade? His particular skill set as a runner, a bullheaded nature and pugnacity, might play well, but it negates his arm strength and ability to make plays in the passing game. The best analogy in this decade may be with Hornung, Notre Dame's quarterback, safety, running back, kickoff returner, and punt returner. Even still, Hornung was much better known for his rushing panache than he was for his passing prowess. He never passed for more than 917 yards in a season.

Tebow might well play every position on the field, but there is not an offensive system that would allow him to flourish to the degree he has at Florida. While he'd be remembered as a good player, he would not be a great one.

1960s

The modern passing quarterback begins to flourish. From 1962 to 1971, seven quarterbacks win the Heisman. Roger Staubach redefines what a quarterback can be at Navy. Winning the Heisman Trophy as a junior, Staubach completes 63 percent of his passes in his career. Yet offenses remain stunted. Staubach will pass for a career high of just 1,474 yards.

On the flip side, Steve Spurrier passes for over 4,800 career yards and Jim Plunkett redefines offensive football with his 2,715 passing yards on the west coast. But the rise of the passing quarterback comes with a downside for Tebow, teams are now focusing on the passing game and limiting their quarterback's rushing carries.

Where would Tebow fit in the late 1960's offenses? Specialization in the passing game is beginning to cut against his running ability. There has yet to be a perfect offensive fusion of passing and running, and Tebow's skill set becomes devalued. He is good enough at neither passing nor running to gain traction as a football star.

The end result, Tebow would now be in his 50s or 60s and only a handful of fans would ever remember that he'd played football.

1970s

The wishbone, a form of the option, and the I-formation, designed to give a talented tailback room to run, takes college football by storm. Tebow's skill-set would have been upstaged by the decade of running backs who are much faster and shiftier than he is. (The running backs' decade of college football dominance would actually extend into the 1980s.) First O.J. Simpson, then Archie Griffin, and finally Herschel Walker take college football for a quick gallop into the open field. For an astounding 12 consecutive years, from 1972 to 1983, the Heisman Trophy is awarded to a running back.

Not fast enough to star at running back, Tebow would have been relegated to spot duty as an inconsistent quarterback who was called upon to gain tough yardage on third and short distances. Even then, his carries would have been minimized had he played alongside a strong tailback. Likely to be remembered as a gritty player, Tebow's star does not rise to the heavens. In fact, it doesn't rise at all. After he misses an open receiver on a crucial play-action fake, grumbling fans call for him to be replaced before his senior season is complete.

1980s

As college football continues to specialize, Tebow's fusion of running and passing is on the wane. His running ability is not good enough to lead a rushing attack and his passing ability is not consistently accurate enough to lead the West Coast offense that is now filtering up the college ranks in the NFL.

Tim Tebow is a platoon quarterback brought on for spot duty. Late in his senior season, he's switched to defense to provide linebacking depth. He ends his career remembered for a handful of quarterback scrambles that live on in fan's memories. "Tim Tebow," fans will mention over beers in a few decades, "now that guy was tough."

Their sons will be unimpressed, "Tim, who?" they'll ask.

1990s

With the rise of the pro-style offense in college football, Tim Tebow's talents would have been stifled. Not quite fast enough to be a straight option quarterback, yet not consistent enough to be a pocket passer, Tebow would be a square peg banging his head against a round hole. While Tommie Frazier is perhaps the best of the running quarterbacks in this decade, there are no other major college success stories comparable to Tebow's skill-set.

Put it this way, if Tebow arrives at Florida in 1996 to play for Spurrier instead of 2006 to play for Meyer, does Tebow ever get on the field at quarterback? Much less enter his name into the conversation for greatest football player ever.

No matter where he went, with the prevalence of pro-style offenses, it's likely Tebow would have arrived at college as a quarterback, and sat on the bench for a few years while coaches attempted to model him into a pocket passer. This may or may not have worked. Eventually he may have been shunted over to defense where his combination of size, fearlessness, and bravado could have made him an All-American linebacker.

At best.

Tebow is remembered as a talented player whose athleticism never matched the game as well as everyone hoped.

2000s

Tim Tebow takes over college football as the perfect repository of rushing and passing in Urban Meyer's spread offense. As he enters his senior season, writers speculate about whether he is the greatest football player in the history of college sports.

By this point the mythology of Tebow will be complete. He is God's gift to football, and there is no possible way he could ever not have dominated the game he loves.

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What this jog through college football history shows us is that Tebow's rise to college greatness is not solely a function of his own ability. It's a perfect nexus of talent in both rushing and passing meeting the time and the system. It also provides us all a powerful lesson, phenomenal success is often as much about timing as it is about on-field ability. It's something to keep in mind as Tim Tebow attempts to scale the college football mountain top for a third time in four years. Just 10 years ago, he might have finished his career as a journeyman quarterback or, shudder, a mediocre linebacker.