Many of you may recall, back in the good ol' rip-roaring 1990s, or what I like to call "The Brandon Walsh Era," much attention was paid to precipitously declining crime rates across the country. Heck, careers were made out of it. Bill Clinton got some credit. Rudy Giuliani made his name by cracking down on turnstile jumpers, graffiti artists and pot smokers and soaking in the praise. Our enthusiastic back-slapping was somewhat tempered, however, when a correlation was made between the legalization of abortion after Roe v. Wade and the reported drop in crime statistics, which began precisely 18 years later (a study popularized by the book Freakonomics.) Turns out a whole mess of future ne'er-do-wells must have been aborted in the years following Roe's victory for the common uterus. Or so some people think.
If true, the "abort a felon today, ruin an episode of COPS eighteen years from now" movement certainly makes a compelling case. But, lower crime rates aside, there appears to be a deep cost to this "choice" we were suddenly presented with all those years ago, one that was quite unexpected. It's affected us all in ways we haven't even begun to fathom and the repercussions of which will probably be felt for years, if not decades, until the slaughter ends. You probably already know what I'm talking about and have felt it for years, deep down, gnawing away at your soul. I'm talking specifically to you, anti-lifers. You don't want to admit it, but I think it's time to face up to the true toll of abortion: Not only were we aborting unwanted fetuses and potential future criminals, we were aborting QUARTERBACKS!
Which is why exhibits A through Z in support of the exception that proves the rule all begin with the words Tim and Tebow, a fact that is about to be bludgeoned into that softest, most absorbent part of your brain, the region reserved for kitten-themed greeting cards and Super Bowl commercials. It seems that in 1987, or as you probably remember it, "The Year Twisted Sister Broke Up," Mother Tebow was advised by her doctors to terminate little Timmy. She didn't, in August a child was born unto her, and the world now collectively thanks her for her courageous, globe-altering decision.
And just imagine what we've been through because so many women were allowed to make choices regarding their own reproduction, flushing all the good, God-given QBs like so many unwanted turds, leaving us with the unholy chaff: Joey Harrington! J.P. Losman! RYAN LEAF! (Those are quarterbacks, by the way, of the "much maligned" variety.) Decades of interceptions and fumbles and bible verse-free eye black! No world peace! No universal salvation for humankind! Aaaaagh! No Tim Tebows.
Except the Tim Tebow, of course. And thank his Mom for that. Tim sure does.
(Wouldn't it be funny if Tebow really were the second coming? If so, this post ensures that I will not be joining you all for the rapture. Send me a postcard.)