Ding-dong, the witch is dead. Which old witch? The Tebow witch.
Tim Tebow's career. It seems to be over.
And you're loving it -- well, those of you who aren't hating it. And some of you are hating it, as well you should be. If you're a fan of Tim Tebow, he's the best thing to hit the NFL since, well, the NFL. For those of you who love Tebow, who love his religion or his innocence or just his story, you hate what's happening right now. Your guy is being run out of the league at this very moment, and there's nothing you can do to stop it. His career is a car going the wrong way on the interstate -- the crash is coming, it's coming, it's coming ...
And you're watching as it happens. Cringing. Nauseated. Unable to stop it, but unable to stop looking.
Those are the folks who love Tebow.
The rest of you? This is what you wanted. Happy? He's about to be gone from your NFL, Tim Tebow is. His poison is about to be sucked out of the game, like a rattlesnake bite that was caught before it did too much damage. All 32 teams are affixing their lips to the wound, sucking it up and spitting it out of their league.
That's Tim Tebow. He's a car crash, or he's a poisonous loogie.
And this is me: Baffled. Disappointed. Angry.