There was a time many years ago (like 4) when I started to realize that my favorite athletes were getting younger than me. Kevin Durant was a big one for me. The biggest was LeBron James. He may only be two months younger than I, but he’s a world more accomplished than I’ll ever be. And was at the age of 16. I feared for a while that I would begin to dislike sports because the athletes were going to be getting younger than I. And while I began to dislike sports a little, or at least like them in a different way, it was never really because the athletes were younger. I found that, yes, I could root for “kids.”

Now, admire kids, that was another story. I never thought that I’d be able to look at someone 4 years my junior and think, “Now there’s someone I can look up to.” That was until Tim Tebow came along.

During Tebow’s first year at the University of Florida he rubbed me the wrong way. He celebrated two yard runs like he was winning an Olympic medal. He was like a vulture. Chris Leak would drive the Gators down the field while the Gator fans sat on their hands. And then they’d get to the two-yard line and bring in the big fullback/quarterback Freshman guy, the fans would go bananas, he’d jump pass into the endzone, flail his arms around, and everyone would be happy. And then the Gators won the National Title. And his legacy grew, even if Chris Leak was immeasurably more responsible for that title than Tebow.

Something happened though during that National Title dismantling of Ohio State. I grew to appreciate Tebow. I could sense that he was more happy than everyone else, especially the always vanilla Leak, to be playing football. I didn’t think he could be successful as a full-time starter (I was wrong), but I began to love his genuine energy and enjoyment of football.

On the football field, I admire Tim Tebow because there is something different about his celebrations. There is nothing calculated about them. He is like a volcano. His lava bubbles to the surface pre-snap, and by the time the whistle blows the play dead, everything around Tim Tebow becomes Pompeii. He loves the game that he is so good at. He cares so much about winning and trying his best. You know, all that cliche stuff that is never really genuine. Except it is with him. With Tebow, I get the feeling that he knows that he’s not supremely blessed with football talents. He’s not a good passer. His mechanics are atrocious. He is not fast. I would be surprised if he runs a 4.6 40-yard dash at the combine. He’s hardly ever taken a traditional snap and thus has hardly ever executed a traditional hand off to a running back. But for all of those holes in his Quarterbacking game, there is no shortage of passion and love for football. Tim Tebow loves what he does more than you do. And I do. And almost anyone does.

Off the football field, Tim Tebow is a perfect person. Tebow performs missionary work, preaches, goes to class, doesn’t have a cocktail waitress mistress, and is somehow still a virgin despite the fact that anyone would sleep with him (oh, and he goes to the University of Florida). Watching Tim Tebow during his tenure at Florida has made me wish I had a son to share him with.

Whether you’re a Gator, a Nole, a Cane, or have no idea what I’m talking about, take a moment this weekend (Saturday at 4 p.m. on CBS) to watch Tebow perform his craft in the SEC Championship Game and de facto National Seminfinal game. No matter the result, it will be Tebow’s second-to-last college game. So do yourself a favor, while you can and even if you don’t love football, watch someone work so hard to be as good at their job as they can possibly be. Tebow has never played halfheartedly. And he assuredly won’t do so on Saturday. His beloved Gators may lose to Alabama, but it won’t be because Tim Tebow left anything in his tank. He leaves everything on every field that he ever steps on. One of the many reasons that I admire him and will miss him greatly when his college career is over.