OK. Let’s admit it. There is no team in the NFL that would benefit more from divine intervention than the Cleveland Browns. So why not put Tebow in front of the Dog Pound now that he apparently is no longer welcome or appreciated in Denver?
And hey. If Tebow could somehow pull off a miracle and win five or six games a year in Cleveland, he would be answering the prayers of the long-suffering Browns faithful.
Probably won’t happen. Here’s some conjecture from the NYT, “Casting Begins for Tebow, the Sequel“:
Now that Peyton Manning has signed with the Broncos, it is time to speculate on where Tim Tebow will land after the Broncos inevitably trade him. Tebow speculation is similar to Manning speculation: no outcome is too far-fetched and every team has something to gain — and perhaps a little to lose — by acquiring the incredibly popular, athletic, erratic-armed lefty. Here is a breakdown on what a Tebow trade could mean for each N.F.L. team.
CLEVELAND BROWNS The Browns use their two first-round picks to surround Tebow with star running back Trent Richardson and standout receiver Kendall Wright, yet still manage to be boring.
Oh well. And if you are inclined to pray, you might want to drop to one knee and hoist one on behalf of John Elway and the owners of the Denver Broncos. Signing Peyton Manning to a five-year, nearly $100 million contract requires some major moola and balls [no, not footballs] the size of coconuts.
Manning was a great player, and he appears to be a decent guy. But the sports landscape is littered with stars who faded at the end of their careers, unable to make the transition to another team. Remember Franco Harris — the receiver of the Immaculate Reception on the day now so long ago when God first started waving the Terrible Towel — playing out the clock in Seattle? Sigh.
And that won’t happen to Hines Ward, the excellent wide receiver of the Pittsburgh Steelers.
Ward said yesterday that he would retire a Steeler, rather than continuing his pro football career with another team.
All over the region, silence fell.
On television sets in homes, offices and eateries, there was Hines Ward’s ebullient face, smiling as always. On radios across Pittsburgh, there was the smooth voice, rising and dipping between confident and shaky.
At a South Side bar, a 44-year-old man watched from his stool as Mr. Ward, adopted by this town 14 years ago, cried tears of finality. The volume was off at the establishment, but Mr. Ward’s emotions made the sound unnecessary.
At a sports merchandise store in the Strip District, the volume was on. Two women stood in front of the cash register, sobbing as Mr. Ward, wearing an all-black suit with a snazzy black and gold tie, announced his retirement from football.“Today,” he said, “I’m officially retiring a Pittsburgh Steeler. And as much as I will miss football, my teammates, coaches and everything about the game, I don’t want to play it in any other uniform. The black and gold runs deep in me, and I will remain a Steeler for life.”