It sure puts perspective on the game.
Florida sophomore quarterback Tim Tebow dazzled the college
football world with a campaign matched by none other. He became the first major
college football player to rush and pass for over 20 touchdowns in a season,
calmly running for 22 scores and throwing for 29 more.
What makes Tebow so intriguing from an outside observer is
his gift with a football in hand, no doubt.
Yet, when it comes to level of importance in the 2007
Heisman Trophy winner's life, football is fourth — behind faith, family and
academics.
After watching Saturday night's presentation and discovering
that the man with the captivating smile has remained steadfast in his own
beliefs despite being the biggest thing in Gainesville, Fla., Tebow impresses
an altogether different appeal: humility.
If it wasn't for his mom's faith, Tim and his undeniable
charm wouldn't exist.
She was told to have an abortion after coming down with
amoebic dysentery and falling into a coma while serving as a Christian
missionary in the Philippines.
From surviving in one piece while his mother was ill, to
winning over the hearts of countless fans, to winning the Heisman, Tebow has
lived a storybook life — one that could very well just be beginning.
Fortunately, at no point have any of his top three focuses
in life forced him to give up football.
For a less-known player, the stakes and results were
different. Tebow's No. 2 focus, family, took the pigskin out of former
Wisconsin Badger wide receiver Jarvis Minton's hands.
Minton left the Badger family to raise his own family
following the 2006 season.
Unlike Tebow, he has no story. Not because there his life
lacked flair or compelling storylines, but because he never bothered to share
them.
Even when dropped lines by numerous reporters (including
myself) Minton, through his wife, declined comment. He has simply moved on.
Tebow has opened up to the outside world to tell his story,
lifting his status from a great football player to an all-around talent and
personality both on and off the field. Minton, meanwhile, has remained closed —
not wanting to be recognized, not wanting to be revered.
Making a living deep on the depth chart during his three
years with Wisconsin, Minton wasn't exactly a "can't miss" talent. In nine
career games, he snared three balls for 46 yards and returned 17 kicks and two
punts for a combined 301 yards.
So when he became a father in the midst of his collegiate
career, the decision to leave perhaps was a no-brainer. Some athletes who have
kids still play, like Wisconsin's own Marcus Landry and, up until a knee injury
forced him to quit the team, Marcus Randle El. Maybe Minton didn't see the
point — he would have landed in a reserve role to start the season. Or maybe
Minton couldn't handle the task of doing them both well.
Whatever Minton's rationale for leaving the team was,
football clearly didn't trump family. He let go of a dream and focused on
making a new one with his little son, Jarvis, Jr., and wife back home in Texas.
No amount of press or flowery stories would get Minton to
come back, let alone answer a phone call. He's with his family now. And that's
perhaps the most humbling story of all.
Minton doesn't want praise for leaving the football team to
be a father. He just quietly walked out the backdoor and moved on.
No parting words. No tears. No remorse. He just moved on.
Kevin Hagstrom is a
senior majoring in economics and journalism. E-mail him at [email protected] if you'd like to see "Tuesdays with Haggy"
stick around next semester. While Kevin will be stepping down as sports editor,
your influence may move him to vie to keep his weekly column. After all, his
readers are among his top four — along with rocking out to Led Zeppelin, watching
The Simpsons and being from the ‘Ville.
