Through My Eyes by Tim Tebow

Author:Tim Tebow
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: Sports
Publisher: HarperCollins US
Published: 2011-06-24T05:17:31+00:00

Chapter Thirteen

Communication Problems

Those who wait for the Lord will gain new strength; they will mount up with wings like eagles, they will run and not get tired, they will walk and not become weary.

—ISAIAH 40:31

I know I made it to class that next week. I always did. I was well into my major of Family, Youth, and Community Sciences with a minor in Communication. Choosing my major was easy—I knew I wanted to be working with people and youth, possibly in a not-for-profit setting, and figured that zeroing in on that made sense. I never looked back.

But as much as I loved what I was studying, that week was a tough one. There were so many distractions, it’s amazing I got anything done. Dealing with that loss was hard enough, but what complicated things even more was the game on the horizon. The following Saturday would be my first trip back to Tiger Stadium in Baton Rouge since Coach Meyer shook his head at me from across the field before that LSU–Florida game when I was in high school. Although we were still in a stunned state of mind that Sunday, a day after the Auburn loss, Louisiana State students took it upon themselves to do their best to make me feel welcome as we prepared for our visit the following weekend.

It started with a few choice voicemails that Sunday afternoon. Not one of them was worth listening to, but sadly they needed to be heard so that appropriate measures and precautions could be taken. Messages coming in like this one: “Hey, Tim Tebow, you’d better tell your family to stay inside because we’re going to find your parents tonight and they’re going to end up in serious pain.” Messages like that—uplifting, positive messages demonstrating good sportsmanship and goodwill toward all.

Of course, everyone on the team had been briefed on what to do if we got messages like that, received intimidating or threatening mail, or were confronted in any way that seemed to jeopardize our safety or that of our families, friends, teammates, or coaches. And so I contacted Coach Meyer and Officer Stacy—Officer Stacy Ettel of the University Police Department was always on hand to keep us safe—to make the coaches aware of what was happening.

By Monday afternoon, the calls were coming in constantly. My cell phone vibrated nonstop, and I had to keep it continually plugged in because the battery was dying every ninety minutes or so, without my ever picking it up at all. Hundreds of calls and text messages were being sent every hour from rabid LSU fans. Crazy, violent, or sexual messages, or all three. Really weird stuff from similarly weird senders. Some of them, but not many, were even literate.

It was such a busy week for me and for us that I simply didn’t have the time to deal with getting a new phone with a new number, but I must admit, even though I was no longer taking the calls or listening to the messages, it really got me pumped up to see how much I was in the thoughts of LSU fans.

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