The toughest quarterback in the NFL is Ben Roethlisberger. He's not the best, but he's the toughest. He stands in the pocket longer, absorbs more punishment, exhibits a higher threshold for pain, and plays his best in the clutch. Roethlisberger is also, by all credible accounts, either a jerk or a "former jerk." At best, he has a highly checkered past and an unsympathetic persona. He's the least popular player in the league who hasn't slept on a prison cot.
It's difficult to separate those qualities. "Toughness" and "meanness" are always intertwined, often coalescing into "grit." When I think about my own life, the toughest people I've known have (often) been bad, bad citizens. Would you rather fight two super-nice guys simultaneously, or one solitary, diabolical reprobate? It's not a difficult question. So when I see Roethlisberger unfazed by a busted nose or a broken foot, it makes sense to me. He seems like the kind of semi-terrible person who is flat-out harder than those around him.
But try to imagine Tebow as a jerk. Let's say his performance on the field was unchanged, but his off-the-field personality was totally different. Let's say he was alleged to have sexually assaulted a few coeds and electrocuted a few dogs and fired an unlicensed handgun in a nightclub. If all this were true, he would not be polarizing; he would just be unpopular, particularly with the people who currently adore him. Sales of his jerseys would fall through the floor. But what would happen after he guts out an ugly 17-13 win against the Jets? What would be the perception? The perception would be that his victory was due to his toughness. That's how the media would explain it. It wouldn't necessarily be true, but it would immediately make sense to people: We are comfortable with the idea that extra-bad people possess something intangible that helps them win football games. There is a long history of this, especially in places like Oakland. But it's less comfortable to think that extra-good people possess such qualities, because that suggests they're being helped by virtuous forces outside of corporeal reality. And that's too much to handle/accept/consider, unless (of course) you already accept that premise unconditionally in every day of your life.
Right now, whenever Broncos vice president of football operations John Elway gets asked about Tebow, he effectively says, "We have no choice but to play him. He wins games." It's not really a compliment. It's almost a criticism. But if Tebow did all this with a prison record, Elway would say the same thing in reverse order: "He wins games. We have no choice but to play him." Which is similar, but not the same.
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