When it comes to a player's legacy, perception is reality.
Reality, however, is not always perception.
Assuming Tim Tebow's senior season is as least as productive as his junior campaign, the three-year starter will have done enough to go down as the greatest player in college football history.
Tebow played his career in the Southeastern Conference, a league known for its stingy, NFL-style defenses. Last season, the SEC finished with three teams in the top 10 in points allowed per game
and six teams in the top 21.
Tebow isn't racking up his stats against Big 12 or Pac-10 foes.He won a Heisman in a conference where defense is king.
He is the conference's career passing efficiency leader (173.8) and is just seven rushing touchdowns from breaking Herschel Walker's SEC record 49 set 27 years ago.
In all likelihood, the Golden Boy will leave Florida as the career leader in both of those categories. It is football's equivalent to a baseball player leading his conference in career home runs and stolen bases.
He already has a Heisman Trophy and two national championships to his name, one as a role player and one as the star player.
When taking all that into account, I can't think of a single college football player with the type of resume Tebow will be able to hand to NFL scouts this spring.
Yet, somehow, there are people out there who think he needs a second Heisman or a third national championship to secure the sole spot atop college football's Mount Olympus.
Reluctantly, I'm one of them.
The reality is that if Tebow only earns a trip back to New York as a Heisman finalist and loses in the title game, there should be no debate as to whether or not he is the greatest ever.
His statistics, individual accolades and team successes will be greater than anyone who has come before him, yet public opinion won't see it that way - perception will distort reality.
His legacy will be determined based on one game against an elite team and a vote left in the hands of former Heisman winners and members of the media.
Any team, no matter how good, can lose one game. And the Heisman often goes to the best player on the best team in the nation rather than simply the best player in the nation.
Unfairly, Tebow's legacy as the greatest college football player rests, in part, on the shoulders of Brandon Spikes, Joe Haden, Jeff Demps and the Pounceys.
It rests, in part, on the ballots of Heisman voters who may not want another player to join Archie Griffin at his table for one.
Football is the consummate team sport, which makes it that much harder to evaluate individual talent.
Eli Manning just inked the most lucrative contract in the NFL for doing little more than winning a Super Bowl two years ago. You know, because he did that all by himself.
On the other hand, Donovan McNabb, who has never been able to get over the hump despite taking the Eagles to five NFC Championship games in nine seasons, routinely draws the ire of Eagles fans and was almost run out of town last year. You know, because he hasn't been able to win a Super Bowl all by himself.
Even though he shouldn't need it, a second bronze statue or a third crystal ball will leave people with no choice but to remember him as the best college football player ever.
And it will be there that reality and perception finally intersect.
