"Would you like to meet Tim Tebow?" my friend had asked.
"Sure," I answered. "Why not?"
He was very pleasant, said he wasn't sure what his role would be with the Broncos yet but would do whatever the coaches asked of him and that he was excited to start the new chapter of his career. I wish him luck, we shake hands, I walk away. Maybe we talked for an entire minute. Maybe.
So whatever, right? Nice enough guy, typical party small talk, now I can say I've met Tim Tebow. There you go. Time for another drink.
Maybe four hours later, the party is winding down. I'm walking toward the back to collect my buddy and on the way, I pass Tebow coming back the other way with his brother, whom I had also met. And I give Tim a slight head nod. You know, the kind of slight head nod you give to your co-workers when you pass them in the hallway to acknowledge you realize they are there and don't want it to be awkward but also don't want anyone to feel they have to stop and talk. So I gave Tim one of those as I keep walking past him.
He stops. And turns to me.
"Hey Matthew. It was really great to meet you. Good luck with the podcast this year!"
He recounts every single thing we talked about and shakes my hand one more time. I shake it back with what I am sure is a stunned expression on my face.
And it was in that moment I totally got it. I understood the Tebow mania. And became a huge fan of his.