Once upon a postgame dreary, while Elway pondered, weak and weary, Over many a quaint and curious playbook, forgotten forevermore - While Manning nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping. As of someone sacking, racking, sacking more. "Tis the Ravens offense," Payton muttered, "tapping at my goalpost door - Only this and nothing more." ... Deep into the darkness peering, long Elway stood there, wondering, fearing Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortals ever dared to dream before; But the silence was unbroken, and the stillness gave no token, And the only word there spoken was the whispered word, "Tebow?", This Elway whispered, and an echo murmured back the word, "Tebow!" Merely this, and nothing more. ... "Prophet!" said Elway, "thing of evil!--prophet still, if quarterback or devil! Whether tempter sent, or whether tempest tossed thee here ashore, Desolate, yet all undaunted, on this Field, Mile High -- On this field by horror haunted--tell me truly, I implore: Is there--is there a Superbowl in my future?--tell me--tell me I implore!"