COLUMBIA, S.C. — Wielding a bat softer than a marshmallow left to melt in the blistering sun, Tim Tebow is so old as a baseball prospect, his baby-faced teammates call him “Papi.”
But, on a muggy, buggy Sunday afternoon, as sweat formed puddles in the small of the back of young minor-leaguers, word spread in the Columbia Fireflies dugout that Tebow and his .220 batting average had earned a promotion to a higher-level club in the New York Mets farm system.
Isn’t sports supposed to be a meritocracy? What in tarnation was going on here?
“Hey!