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st re ng t hing f a m ilie s f r o m w i t h i n
POWERED BY FOUR BARREL FITNESS
By Adam &
Kristin Kleinert
Oh, How We
Have Fallen
Editor’s Note: Normally, Kristin Kleinert and
her husband Adam pen this column together.
This time, Adam is sharing an experience
involving Tim Tebow that he had with one
of his four children.
s a parent, you’re always
glad when your offspring
show enthusiasm for role
models of whom you
personally approve. That’s
why I recently found myself
excited while making a quick day trip with my
son, Eli, to see Tim Tebow play minor league
baseball in Lexington, Ky. We’ve been fans of
Tebow for years, and when we saw that he’d be
playing nearby, my twelve-year-old and I jumped
at the chance to attend.
A
I envisioned the day ahead of us: watching
a great athlete engaging in one of our favorite
sports. We’d be able to talk about Tebow’s personal
grace, his strength of character, his sincere effort
as a sportsman. However, a different life lesson
presented itself that afternoon.
We were settled in our seats when the players
began to emerge from centerfield, heading to the
dugouts with their bats, helmets and gloves in
tow. Tebow strolled out with his teammates and I
noticed right away: He looked tired. This was not
the energetic, upbeat guy we are used to seeing on
television. It seemed strange not to see him smile
as we’ve seen so many times before. Nonetheless,
Eli was in awe.
As soon as Tebow reached the left field sideline,
42 EXTOL SPORTS / JULY 2017
Eli enjoyed the experience of meeting his sports hero.
he began signing paraphernalia for eagerly awaiting
“fans”. Soon, he was grabbed by staff who ushered
him over to begin pregame warm-ups. Some of the
waiting fans took such displeasure at this they yelled
angrily for Tebow to return and continue signing.
As soon as throwing and stretching were complete,
he walked back to the spot where he’d stood before
and began where he left off. Still no Tebow smile,
however, just a very tired baseball player.
A few minutes passed, and he came to my own
son. Eli leaned down and said something to his
hero as he signed his glove, but I was a couple of
rows back and could not hear the exchange. Tebow
looked up, grinned and replied, then reached for the
next item being thrust at him and went on signing
in the same manner as before.
When Eli got back to our seats, I asked him what
he had said to Mr. Tebow. “I just said “Thank you,
sir. Have a great game today!” he replied. “And then
Tim said ‘Thanks, Bud!”
I didn’t think too much about it at the time as it
didn’t seem overly prolific to me.
Eli and I were fortunate enough to watch Tebow
play a double header that day as his team, the
Columbia Fireflies, took on the Lexington Legends.
Every free moment – and I mean EVERY free
moment – he took up his post, signing autographs,
making sure no one was skipped, no one was left
out. Even after the games, he came back out and
continued to sign. Sadly, though, his trademark
smiles were very few and far between. And then
it dawned on me: He only smiled when he talked,
even briefly, with a fan. It seemed it was almost a
relief when they weren’t asking him for something
and wanted just to engage. Like eli had.
I began to realize that just about everyone at the
park (and let’s be honest, we were all there to see
him) wanted a little piece of Tim Tebow.
Now, I know it’s easy to say, “Well, he knew what
he was signing up for when he agreed to play.” Let
me be the first to say I don’t know anyone who
would intentionally sign up for exactly that. He