Tales of Tebow, Twitter, TV and Tomfoolery
Published: 2/26/2010 6:29 PM
Last Modified: 2/26/2010 6:31 PM
INDIANAPOLIS — Now I know what Paris Hilton feels like.
A lighthearted moment in front of a camera was misinterpreted and suddenly I'm a controversy.
Here's what happened.
Friday at the NFL Scouting Combine, ex-Florida quarterback Tim Tebow walked into the interview room. He was announced at Podium C, which was 10 feet from my work station. So I grabbed my recorder and notebook and stepped right up — actually beat Tebow to the podium. Placed my recorder on the podium and said, "How's it going?"
Within 10 seconds, a mob of about 75 reporters had descended. Many of those closest to the front started to place their recorders on the podium, which was facing Tebow atop an elevated dais — no easy feat for your typical sports writer. So Tebow, being the good guy he is, took the first couple and placed them on the podium. So a few more folks raised their recorders, and Tebow placed them down. Then a few more. Soon, most of us at the front, Tebow included, started chuckling about the silliness of the moment.
So I raised my notebook and said, "How about if you take my notes for me, too?" A few people laughed, including Tebow. Then Tebow leaned over the podium, reached down and held his hands open. I looked at him for a second as if to say, "Sorry, don't mean to bruise your ego here, but I was just kidding." But he kept his hands open. So I sensed a moment of levity and thought, "Let's see where this goes."
I handed my notebook to him, and my pen, expecting him to pose like some 40-something sports writer, or scribble a few unintelligible lines (there were already plenty of those by my own hand) and hand it back. But the guy actually gave me an autograph. It says, "God Bless, Tim Tebow, 15," with his name and number intertwined in some well-rehearsed, barely readable script.
Listen. I like Tebow. Voted for him for the Heisman as a sophomore and voted him second as a junior. I like everything about the guy. He gets a lot of kidding in our area because, well, frankly, a lot of people in Florida — including many, many members of the media — think he hung the moon. Don't argue with me here; I saw it with my own eyes last January when Oklahoma played the Gators for the national championship. Florida media loves him and isn't afraid to show it. And, he gets a lot of kidding because, let's face it, he's a goody-two-shoes. Stay with me here; that's not a bad thing in my eyes. I admire any person who can live under such a spotlight and adhere to his own values, no matter how high and mighty the rest of the world thinks he is. And, he gets a lot of kidding around here because he and his team beat the Sooners, and Sooner fans don't take to kindly to that.
My own personal opinion is that he's a bit overexposed — not overrated, by any stretch; he truly is one of the best players in the history of college football. Overexposed. Unlike Sam Bradford, for instance, Tebow seems to do little to avoid the spotlight. Not that Sam is right and Tim is wrong. As an asker of questions and a seeker of answers, I would have preferred Sam take on a few of Tebow's more outgoing characteristics over the last three years. Sam's friendly enough, but he doesn't cotton to the press or its questions.
Anyway, as much as I like Tebow, I would never ask the man for an autograph. Particularly not while I'm on assignment covering him, working in a professional environment, standing in front of dozens of other reporters, on camera, with a 25-year career as a newspaper journalist at stake.
I have asked for autographs before. In 1992, I attended the inaugural "Fight Night" event in Tulsa. Muhammad Ali and Joe Frazier were there signing autographs. I wasn't working; I was in a ridiculous tuxedo, giving money to charity and enjoying food, friends and fights. I stood in line to meet both legends, shake hands and introduce myself. When I told both men what an impact they left on me as a young boy growing up in Alaska and how much it meant to me to meet them, Ali smiled, grabbed a T-shirt and asked his wife to get my name. He personalized an autograph to me. So, I figured the shirt would be cooler if Frazier signed it too. I've always wanted to frame that shirt and hang it on a wall, but instead it sits in a tattered cardboard box on a bottom shelf in a hard-to-reach corner of my home office. Last time I saw it, it had yellowed some. Probably has dust, dog hair and maybe a few mouse doodles on it.
And a couple years ago my wife and I were in New York for a play, and we spied Jennifer Garner heading into the theater. I had my daughter on the phone and asked her if she'd say hi, and she did, and then she autographed my Playbill — without me asking. And today, I have no idea where that Playbill is.
The point here is I do not hunt autographs. Never have. They are unimportant to me. I wanted to wring the necks of the clowns who hounded Bradford and Colt McCoy all through Manhattan the night before the Heisman ceremony two years ago. Autographs — I just don't get it.
So, back to Tebow.
While he was scribbling — I had no idea he was actually signing his name — I offered up another suggestion. I told him that my Tulsa World laptop was just right behind him and asked if he could just write my story for me.
He and a couple others laughed, then said, "Let's get started."
I've been on Twitter for less than two weeks, and I figured that was a moment goofy enough to share with the Twitterazzi. I figured that would be the end of it.
But a blogger — I thought he was watching the Tebow camera feed on his computer via NFL.com back in Austin, Texas, but turns out he's actually covering the combine — thought he saw a reporter ask Tebow for an autograph. He figured out who I was and quickly tweeted that Tulsa reporter John Hoover asked Tebow for an autograph.
Within minutes, his loyal followers had replied how classless I was, how lame, how stupid, how unprofessional. One even suggested I be fired.
My temperature rose quickly.
Anyway, the whole thing was diffused within an hour with a simple (and much shorter) explanation. I first replied by calling him a name I shouldn't have, and I quickly apologized. He apologized for making me have to defend my integrity. Oh well. Water under the bridge. Lesson learned.
Twenty-five years in the profession, and no one ever questioned my integrity. But two weeks on Twitter, and this is what I get?
Just don't tell TMZ where I live.
— John E. Hoover
Written by
John E. Hoover
Sports Columnist
