10/18/14

Kelly Slater is Not a Sport

Kelly Slater, the livingly legendary surfer, apparently just did this:

Some are reporting it as a 540 (as in degrees). Others as a 720. I don’t really care. However characterized, it’s wildly unimpressive.

But, it does give me an opportunity to repost one of my longstanding personal theories on a deep cosmic question, to the instigation of many personal friends and Charlestonians especially:

What is sport?

The eternal debate over which activities constitute “sport” and which do not, ends now. For too long, we’ve been left to our own individual view. Bass fishing. Ice skating. The WNBA. What are they? We need an objective test. A standardized list. Even the so-called Worldwide Leader in Sports, without distinction, sloppily conflates the performances of Kelly Slater and Jimmie Johnson and Shaun White with those of Lebron James and Colin Kaepernick and Mike Trout. All world class athletes for sure. Not all participants of sport. But, how can we know for sure?

So, presently, I think we’re all working with a kind of intuitive definition of sport that includes three generalized elements:

1. An activity;
2. requiring some threshold level of physical exertion/skill; and
3. performed within a measurable and competitive context.

These three elements by themselves lead to all kinds of controversy. Is race car driving a sport? It requires an above-resting-heart-rate level of cardio; physical strength; and world class eye hand coordination. It’s also a race. But, it sure looks a lot like just driving a car. Is surfing a sport? The physical element is plainly satisfied. But, what really is a surfing “contest”? Non-standardized playing environment. And, physical techniques poorly suited for quantification and measurement. How about billiards? A kind of low-grade eye-hand coordination, relative to something like baseball or golf. But, plainly an objectively measurable competitive outcome.

Most people think the controversy is all in the second element. Are you being “athletic” enough to constitute sport? But, an emphasis on the second element leads to unnecessarily forced accusations like “soccer players are bed wetters” in order to try and discount an activity as sport, when plainly the physical element is present. And, while there is admittedly some grey area caused by our intuition that sport requires “physicality,” I actually think the real confusion is almost entirely in the third element.

When we doubt sport, we are really subconsciously reacting to an activity out of context.

See the problem is that we live in a “game” culture. And, so we are constantly turning everything into a measurable test of wills and talent. Pie eating contests. iPad math games. Iron Chef. Seed spitting. Spelling Bees. Madden Bowl. Project Runway. Jeopardy. Last Comic Standing. That cup stacking thing. Otherwise non-competitive activities that we simply decide to score. And, then we’re stuck wondering if it is a sport. There really isn’t any activity that we can’t quantify and make competitive. And, so we wind up shrugging our shoulders at ESPN’s 2:00 am time slot and reluctantly accepting that the Lumberjack Games must be a sport. “They’re really strong. And they get a trophy carved from a tree trunk.” Check and check.

But, intuitively we know this isn’t right. And, when we can’t clearly challenge on the basis of athleticism, like with The World’s Strongest Man competition or American Ninja Warrior, it’s all the more frustrating. “I know he’s pulling a transport truck with his teeth, but that can’t possibly be a sport.”

Consider the mystery solved. Our definition of sport simply needs to include the following clarification.

If an activity has some context other than its competitive one, it is NOT A SPORT, even if it also now enjoys a competitive context; it is just an activity. By contrast, sport has no other context for its activity than its competitive one.

Football doesn’t have a non-competitive context. Football was invented for football’s sake. You can choose to not keep score but that doesn’t make the performance of the activity any less advesarial. It is always pitting, so to speak. Some activity called “footballing” did not predate the competitive, sport version of football. The activity is a priori, in philosophical parlance. Same with basketball or golf or hockey.

Certainly you can break down the individual elements of an inherently competitive activity into non-competitive ones. Like hitting balls at the range. Or throwing a baseball off a brick wall. But, that’s just practice; not the actual and full activity itself. When you play baseball. You’re playing baseball. And, if you want to say that spinning the football with your dad in the backyard isn’t a sport, we can agree to agree. It’s an activity. Football, however, is a sport.

So, let’s look at the modified rule in application.

Skateboarding? Not a sport. Skateboards were toys and transportation first. X-games came later. It’s an activity. And a public nuisance.

Horseback riding? Not a sport. Horses were for transportation, hunting, and nation-state imperialism originally. The track came later. It’s an activity. And a farm animal.

Car racing? Not a sport. It’s an activity. You may have heard of it. It’s called driving.

And, cycling? Yep. Not a sport. It’s an activity. Horn. Woven basket. Tandem seats. Picnic. The Tour came later.

Surfing. Uh uh. Any activity that includes the risk of shark attack is not a sport. It’s survival.

To be clear, all of these are athletic or rather require athleticism. But, so does hand-to-hand guerrilla warfare. That doesn’t make it a sport.

To the point, this “original context” view eliminates the sort of qualitative judgment the debate about sport presently implies. So, currently, the race car driver has to behave sort of defensively that the athleticism and physicality required of him is high, whenever his racing is not accepted by some as a sport. But, this proposed addendum to the definition of sport effectively shifts the debate from athletic v. non-athletic to activity v. sport. And, truthfully this view is already in line with the culture of these activities. Competition and scoring were imposed on many of these activities, like surfing and skateboarding and axe hurling, whose participants philosophically already see contests and competitions as a kind of existential threat to the purity of the real experience and culture of those things. A definition, which focuses on the original purpose of the activity, therefore, removes this more judgmental and artificial exercise in critisizing the physical talent or skill or difficulty of relative sports.

How about foot races you might ask or long jump? People have been jumping over and running from and after things for as long as we’ve been bi-pedal. And, mostly for non-competitive reasons. How can the 100m or triple jump not be a sport simply because they have other non-competitive contexts?

And, so, I have promulgated an important corollary to our definition, called the “Antiquities Exception.” It goes as follows:

If the activity was originally considered a sport, in antiquity, then it remains a sport in modernity.

Running.

Jumping.

Wrestling/Boxing/Fighting Arts.

Object hurling. Javelins. Shot puts.

All of these were “sport” in antiquity. They’re grandfathered in, so to speak. If it was a “sport” before the invention of pants, let’s say, you can continue to claim it now.

Before I continue, it’s critical that we say a little more about the second element — that physical exertion/skill be present. Although this is where most people believe the debate lies, I think it’s pretty straightforward.

If an activity requires two or more of speed/quickness, strength, agility, flexibility, and eye-hand coordination, it satisfies the physical exertion demands of sport.

Period.

This working definition quickly helps identify inherently competitive activity without physicality, as “game,” and inherently competitive activity with physicality, as sport. Things like board and yard games, therefore, pretty rapidly find their water level as games.

Monopoly. Game.
Chess. Game.
Cornhole. A passion.

It also relegates something like billiards to the game category for its reliance essentially on only one attribute in eye hand coordination but solidifies something like ping pong or table tennis as sport for demanding quickness plus coordination.

Here are some interesting test cases.

The sleddings. Bob, dog, snow. Ancient activities. But, not necessarily ancient sports. 1967 was the first Iditarod. Not a sport. Anything that involves “packing” or “food stores” is not a sport.

Skiing. As a means of snow escape, maybe as old as 5 to 6 thousand years. As a sport, relatively new. It’s, at best, an activity, at worst, suicide.

Sailing. You already saw the spoiler. Not a sport. Anything used to “circumnavigate” cannot be sport. Satellites. Shuttles. Boats.

Roller Derby. Although roller skating itself is an activity, punching women in the face while roller skating has no other context. Sport.

Lumberjack Olympics. Not a sport. Anything that scores or measures “job performance” is an evaluation not a sport.

Arm wrestling. Have you seen Over the Top? Sport.

Fishing. As with the sleddings, if the activity also doubles as a food source or other life necessity, not a sport.

One of my favorites. Cheerleading. Not a sport. It has another context. Called cheerleading.

Horseshoes. A game. Eye hand coordination only.

Ice skating. Regardless of the definition used, ice skating will never, ever, ever be a sport. Panty hose = no sport.

Women’s softball. Begrudgingly a sport.

Clemson football. Not a sport. It plainly has no competitive context. It is strictly non-competitive.

How about swimming? Evidence of “swim meets” and Speedo in the Ancient World is admittedly a little thin, but it has such a high association with modern sport, like track, that it’s hard to not deem swimming a sport. So, is swimming more like skiing, essentially a type of environmentally specific transportation, or more like sprinting, an old sport? To resolve it, the Antiquities Exception should reasonably be extended to cover any competition based on an irreducibly singular athletic movement that doesn’t include equipment. Like running or jumping. Whereas skiing and sailing are an activity in human/equipment hybrid, swimming is a base athletic activity. A sport. You’re lucky, Phelps. Real lucky.

One more canard: gymnastics.

Trust me. The the back layout with a half twist has no other context. And, no one can quibble with the physical requirements. But, it gets such a bad rap for scoring that it seems to fail the measurable/competitive element as simply not well-suited to assessment. I would offer that although the current judging system is an abomination, as with boxing, that doesn’t mean you can’t imagine a more technical and objective type of adjudication. Sport. By the skin of your leotard, Tim Daggett.

So, let’s review. A “sport” is

1. Any activity;
2. requiring physical exertion, to include two or more of the following physical attributes – speed, agility, flexibility, strength, or eye-hand coordination; and
3. performed within a competitive context, so long as the activity has no other non-competitive context,

otherwise, it is a game or an activity.

Antiquities Exception: Any physical activity deemed a “sport” in antiquity is a sport in modernity, to include any competition based on an irreducibly singular athletic movement that doesn’t include equipment.

Got it?

To summarize:

Baseball. A sport.

Surfing (Kelly Slater). Not a sport.

Lacrosse. A sport.

Fantasy sports. Not a sport. Even if you’re in an auction, keeper, league-specific, PPR, rotisserie, War Room league.

So next time someone invites you to a NASCAR event or the Kentucky Derby or the above videoed 2014 Moche Rip Curl Pro Portugal, you can confidently say, “Why thank you. I’d love to attend that ‘activity competition’ with you.”

(And, yes, please use air quotes, when you do.)

Written and performed by theipoetlaureate. Music produced Fab da Eclectic. Lyrics here.

Today’s blong here:

Bad Sport

12/8/13

Sour Purple Grapes

I hate Las Vegas.

They beat us by exactly 31?! Unbelievable.

For those that don’t remember or didn’t know or who still don’t care, my Furman University Paladins played two-time defending National Champions, North Dakota State Bison, in the second round of the Division I FCS football playoffs last night. They lost 38-7. I had incited an infinitesimal but virulent segment of the Bison fan base with this song.

NDSU responses were of three predictable varieties:

1. “It’s pronounced BIZON.” Without the pronunciation cues, I’m still not sure if they mean Bizon, as in rhymes with risin’ or Bizon, as in “Get your prize on.” Regardless, noted.

2. “Bizon are already on ice.” In the chorus to the song, I was not attempting to express a literal aspiration about the physical location of Bison. But, again, got it.

3. And, indecipherable.

In all, Bison fans were good sports about it, except on the rare occasion when I was invited to peruse the hairy underside of said school’s mascot. (I’m not sure if they meant the actual costumed mascot or the real animal version of said mascot.)

Couple things about the game, first.

1. Congrats to a deserving team in North Dakota State;

2. The final score says different, but two very questionable calls against Furman on consecutive attempts to score in the first half greatly affected momentum in the game. The Paladins weather the quick touchdown drives by NDSU, early in the second half, a lot differently with 14 on the board instead of 7; and

3. Their head coach was so impressed with the win that he apparently is taking the head coaching job at Wyoming. Which is super insulting because Wyoming football is the exact same thing as NDSU except worse and with more chaps and lariats.

So why would I continue to expend an embarrassing quantity of time taunting an entire state, after my team got housed and the Bison faithful have moved on? I’m sure even Furman fans are cringing at the thought.

Well, first, I need to just close the loop. I ran my mouth. Ate my words. I can’t just disappear on the subject like I wasn’t jawing.

Second, it’s the best thing that’s ever happened to this site with the exception of automated bot comments.

And, third, there is something that needs to be said about FCS football, implicated here. I alluded to it in my original post. And, I know my audience can’t get enough editorializing on second-rate football.

Quick primer. Historically, the biggest colleges in the country played football at the NCAA Division I level. Oregon. Notre Dame. Alabama. Michigan. Florida State. Ohio State. University of Phoenix Online. (I believe that’s where Larry Fitzgerald played his college ball.)

Below that was a Division I-AA. Furman. Georgia Southern. Richmond. William & Mary. JMU. Montana.

Below the Division I levels were Divisions II and III and something called an NAIA. Apparently, the College of Charleston is very proud of all the basketball national championships it won at the NAIA level, against basketball teams taken from 6 small colleges, two group homes, and a chess club.

Just recently, a semantic slight of hand attempted to conjoin Division I and Division I-AA into a single Division I with two subdivisions: The Football Bowl Subdivision (FBS) and The Football Championship Subdivision (FCS). See how that’s different than just Division I and Division I-AA? Obviously.

Anyway, like the FBS, the FCS has private and public colleges. But, some of those public colleges are the biggest educational institutions of their respective states. Delaware. Maine. Montana. Montana State. North Dakota State. Institutions where either (1) the name of the college is a State or (2) is the name of a State plus the word “State” or “Tech.” Think Michigan and Michigan State. Or Georgia and Georgia Tech. Or Devry and Devry Institute. Granted most of these FCS institutions were located in less populated states but these are still the flagship schools of a card-carrying member of our great Union.

For a long, long time, nobody cared about Division I-AA/FCS football. But, then it became increasingly clear that television exposure and the opportunity to upset a major FBS school could raise a school’s admissions and money profile through FCS football success similar to a good run in March Madness.

And, when people started caring, the publicly funded institutions were well-suited to capitalize.

North Dakota State University is one such example. But, it applies equally to the Delaware’s and Montana’s of the world as well.

Which is all fine. But, this advantage that comes with size and the support of either half or nearly all of a state’s population and coffers, should temper their pride in success against less comparably postured institutions. It inflames it.

It seems to me that a major state institution has two options. Either (1) qualify your arrogance over winning multiple National Championships by beating private schools an eighth your size or (2) move up to FBS with all the other state schools.

Like, I don’t know, Wyoming?

wyoming

Congrats, Cowboys. Err . . . Bizon. I suppose they’re both winners today.

How’s that for magnanimity? Go Chanticleers.

Performed by theipoetlaureate. Music produced by Fab da Eclectic.
Today’s blong here. Updated and final version of the original with new third verse:

DISCLAIMER: The opinions expressed herein do not reflect the views of Furman University or even its football team. They are exclusively the ramblings of a too compulsive fan acting entirely alone. As in, without any friends to speak of.

12/5/13

Sweet Home

In case you’ve been on hold over at the Affordable Care Act website for the last five days, the fate of a defending, two-time national championship team is on the line. A series of improbable events have put a dynasty in jeopardy. Its mascot, a rumbling, horned behemoth of a creature, hunted for millennia, looks to escape an extinction level event.

That’s right.

The North Dakota State Bison are on the run.

The Bison are the current back-to-back NCAA Division I FCS National Champions, with a 39-2 record since 2011. Sound familiar? Their relative dominance makes Alabama’s run look replicable by comparison. As a current member of the tier, formerly known as Division I-AA, the Bison have cooly beat Division I FBS schools, Kansas State and Minnesota, the last two seasons on the road. That would be like the Crimson Tide mixing in a couple wins over the AFC South in Houston and Jacksonville.

And, who, you might suppose, is the Bison’s fearless hunter?

As it turns out . . . my Furman University Paladins.

fu

A team with a rich football tradition itself, including a I-AA National Championship and more conference championships in the storied Southern Conference (whose historical members boast Alabama, Tennessee, Florida, LSU, Georgia, Georgia Tech, Clemson, and South Carolina among others) than any other member school, Furman has recently fallen on hard football times. But for a host of comparable improbabilities to rival that which has recently played out in the SEC, the Paladins (8-5) shouldn’t have even sniffed the playoffs.

(Did I mention the inventor of the laser is a Furman alumn? You know. THE laser. Laser pointers. LASIK surgery. Light Sabers.)

My kids and I were there when they clinched as co-champions of the SoCon and secured the FCS playoff automatic bid.

fu me and j

(Actually, to clinch the auto berth also required the Samford Bulldogs to beat the Elon Golden Phoenix in its final game of the season, thereby creating a three-way first place tie with the University of Tennessee at Chattanooga Mocs and Furman, which the Paladins would win by virtue of the applicable tie-break. I know. Have you ever read a college football sentence with fewer recognizable teams?)

The Paladins promptly beat in-state bretheren, South Carolina State Bulldogs out of the MEAC, last weekend, in the opening round of the playoffs. They now face North Dakota State in Fargo Saturday.

For those unfamiliar, a “playoff” is a single or multi-elimination game tournament format in which eligible teams compete, head-to-head, in an attempt to decide a single champion on the merits. Admittedly, it’s a pretty bizarro way to crown a champion, I know, but that’s all the FCS has for now.

Anyway, you think the odds of Duke beating Florida State and Michigan State beating Ohio State, to keep Alabama’s national championship prospects alive, are long?

Furman was a 31-point dog at one point.

There were shorter odds on the Christmas Raccoons in their conservationist-minded grudge match against Cyril Sneer’s Hockey Bears to preserve Evergreen Lake.

Which is pretty appropriate, as my crusading Paladins prepare to take on the bigger, uglier, and generally more malodorous team from the icey North where hockey matters a whole lot more than football . (As an aside, if your school is one of the top two flagship public colleges of your state, get the what out of the FCS. That would be like the Texans playing in the SEC and thinking they had done something. You too Montana and Montana Jr.)

And, by “bigger” and “uglier,” I mean “1/8 viking.”

North Dakota State designed it’s punt rush after a Capital One Card commercial.

They forge their own helmets.

The quarterback’s wristband cheat sheet is written in rune.

The Fargodome doubles as a smokehouse in the offseason.

“The pigskin” is not euphemistic in North Dakota.

So, to the point — Alabama’s remaining shred of hope. As a disclaimer, my dad’s family is from Alabama and he attended for like 6 semesters before eventually graduating, ironically enough, from the aforementioned Samford where he met my mother. As a result, I pulled for Alabama my entire childhood including through the time of this National Championship and historic play:

But, in my adult life I became a Paladin, first, and, shortly thereafter, a Gamecock, during my time at USC School of Law, which happened to correspond with the Lou Holtz era. And, as USC plays in the SEC, that was pretty much the end of my Alabama loyalties.

Sooooooooo, it’s been a long, long time since I felt any real allegiance to the Tide. But, in the recesses of my nostalgia lingers some little wish that they succeed, so long as their success doesn’t otherwise interfere with my real teams (which in the case of Furman and the University of South Carolina is essentially never).

In addition to these dormant childhood loyalties, Alabama’s dynastic run has implicated an important aspect of my heirarchy of fandom that historic streaks and accomplishments not be disrupted. And, so I root for a third national championship, and fourth in five years, just like I did with the USC Trojans, because it’s essentially impossible to do and our society’s infatuation with empire destroying is pretty petty.

Taken together, all of this amounted to some investment in the outcome of last Saturday’s Iron Bowl that Alabama prevail. And, again, in case you’re still buffering through the Obamacare Insurance Exchange, they didn’t.

Speaking of improbable plays, isn’t it time that a creative playbook, built exclusively around the hook-and-ladder, be designed? It’s considered such a high-risk play, relegated only to hail-marry situations, because of the lateral involved. But, what makes an orchestrated, discretionary open-field lateral any more risky than the triple option? You practice the play just like other offensive schemes so that it’s familiar. The receivers have discretion to not make any lateral that’s dubious. What am I missing? You could have all these mid-field variations of wideouts crossing underneath each other creating a sort of secondary option effect. Someone’s going to do this and I’m going to get no credit. Quick. Give me a team to coach.

hook and ladder

So, now finally to the point. I wanted Alabama to three peat. They aren’t going to, barring something as nearly as improbable as Furman beating the Bison. So what am I pulling for? There is still a streak on the line and one hardly anyone has mentioned, although Forbes led with it here.

The State of Alabama streak. It’s won the last FOUR National Championships. Forget SEC dominance. Or the South’s dominance. Arguably one of the poorest, most marginalized states in our union owns college football. And, but for it having cannibalized itself on rivalry weekend, would be particularly poised to make it five.

But, the feat is still very much alive. Whereas both FSU and Ohio State must lose for Alabama to have any shot, only one has to lose for the State of Alabama, in its other son, Auburn, to keep the streak going.

Sweet home, indeed.

Oh. I almost forgot.

To the visigoths who await us in Fargo, in the indelicate words of Furman’s late President, John E. Johns, “F.U. one time! F.U. two times! F.U. three times! . . .

F.U. all the time!”

Performed by theipoetlaureate. Music produced by Fab da Eclectic.
Today’s blong here:

03/27/12

Tim(e) Square

The New York Jets officially announced Tim Tebow yesterday as their backup quarterback. And, starting underwear model. (Are the Jets running a football squad or a modeling agency? Sanchez and Tebow have now appeared in more sultry advertising than a Hardee’s cheeseburger. If Quinn and Brady and Cam could be traded to NY as cornerbacks, the Jets would be competitive for the Lingerie, if not the Super, Bowl.)

This just generally strikes me as a horrible fit. Tebow is certainly going to put pressure on Sanchez for the starting role, which may or may not be very effective at making Sanchez any better at his job. More importantly, the interpersonal dynamics just seem so weird. Tim’s been lampooned so much he’s like a internet gif. I would think it would be difficult for a proud and sort of street locker room like the Jets to embrace this dude. But, it sounds like he preferred it to Jacksonville. We’ll see.

Anyway, I’ve already done one Tebow song. I can’t bring myself to do another, quite yet. But, to join the fracas, I thought I’d repost. This is what I said about him back in the fall.

A new post tonight, I promise. Brad Pitt and Sean Penn raise an orphaned litter of Mango together.

Performed by the ipoetlaurete. Produced by pumpkinFoot.

Today’s song blog here:

All Things

12/12/11

5280 Feet

I tried to delay this topic. Actually, that’s not true at all. I was never going to address it. Didn’t even feel any real pressure to. I had a couple folks ask me about him on Twitter but wasn’t inspired. And, that’s not because I don’t cover sports or am somehow above a cheap human interest story (I do, and I’m not). But, to me there was no real story in a Tim Tebow song. Certainly not one that had any fresh angle that I was excited about. Now, Egyptian elections? On it.

At some point, however, you can’t be a credible rap news site and continue to avoid such a national event. The David Gergen’s of the world start taking you a little less serious. Bill Kristol doesn’t call quite as often. Serious people look to me for what it all means. To help them make sense of the mysterious world of the National Football League.

I really don’t have the energy to recount the entire Tim Tebow story. All-time great college quarterback at the University of Florida. Universally doubted as an NFL caliber starting QB. 4th string on the Denver Broncos depth chart. As a result of impossibly bad play by the starter, Kyle Orton, a crush of public opinion forces the hand of Bronco management who starts Tebow after a 1-4 start to the season (for my non-sports readers that’s 1 win to 4 losses). Tebow is mercilessly criticized by pundits and performs at a statistically absurd low level. All the while, he leads the Denver Broncos on an inexplicable 7-1 run, in spite of barely being able to throw the ball in a manner that resembles, in any respect, a thrown football. Included in those 7 wins are 5 or 6 of the most improbable comebacks ever seen, culminating in yesterday’s most stunning victory over the Chicago Bears at Mile High stadium in Denver. The Broncos were down 10 with two and a half minutes left and won 13-10.

ESPN commentators, who have been tearing apart his technical ability for months, stared blankly into the cameras postgame. And said things like “wigi board,” “magic eightball,” “floo powder,” and “banana pants.” Actually, they didn’t say “magic eightball.”

Another critical detail about Tim Tebow: he may be the most outspoken athlete concerning his Christian faith that there has ever been. Eye black with bible verses. Kneeling prayers mid game. Heaven pointing. Pro-life commercials. Glory-to-God given before EVERY statement to the media. Every single one.

I have never been a Tim Tebow fan. He was a gator. Who could reasonably cheer for that?

I’m also a little queasy of Jesus cheerleading. Full disclosure, I wore a “Jesus is BOSS” (as in Hugo Boss) shirt in college. I have spent my entire life being roughly public with my faith. I guess in time I’ve been increasingly concerned about what those displays really say to others and about myself. Jesus himself asked us to do our praying in closets, not on corners. And, there is just something too rote about thanking God every single time you open your mouth. I wrestle with how to keep the name of God precious. The Divine is not something to hide. But, it’s also not something to parade, like a float.

What is happening in Denver is fundamentally a sports story. The roster of the Broncos has rallied around a young and relentless quarterback and are outperforming their talent. It’s one of the greatest underdog stories we’ve seen in a while.

It is at the same time a story about faith. Not that God has picked sides in the AFC West. But, that He is our strength in all things. Tim Tebow knows that truth and is unafraid in life and in football.

I am as happy as I’ve been in a long time watching the Broncos be really special at football week after week. I’m also happy that Tebow honors the Lord in it all.

Performed by ipoet. Produced by pumpkinFoot.

Today’s song blog here:

All Things