As hard as it may be to believe, I'm going to avoid the compulsion to dedicate yet another column to Tim Tebow. There's literally nothing left to say on the matter. I'm out. I'll let everyone else take it from here.

I am, however, going to focus on being a Denver Broncos fan ... specifically the fact that I'M a Denver Broncos fan. I have been for a long time - since way before Tebow. Originally from Denver, being a Broncos fan is a family tradition that's older than me. The Driscolls moved to the Pacific Northwest when I was in grade school, but even after the relocation rooting for the Broncos on Sunday has always been a big part of my life. As I've grown older that hasn't changed.

To put it lightly: I'm pretty into it. It doesn't always jibe with the expected persona of the leader of an alt-press rag, but I don't really care. I'm passionate about the Broncos - to a point of admitted ridiculousness. I don't paint my face, but I have come to realize I take it more seriously than most. I'm OK with that.

But sometimes it does get awkward.

Recently, for instance, my family became friendly with the family of a girl who attends the same preschool as my daughter. They're good people, and my wife and I both really like them. At this point we've had dinner at their house, cruised Zoolights and attended numerous toddler birthday parties together. We even enrolled our daughters in the same YMCA ballet and swimming lessons, ensuring regular Saturday-morning interaction over the last few months.

I'm not an expert on such things, but I'd dare to say it has all the markings of a very normal friendship.

The trouble is, he's a Patriots fan. By "he" I mean the father of the other family. I can't come down on him too hard since he's technically from Boston, but facts are facts. He wears a Patriots hat, roots for Tom Brady and probably even thinks Bill Belichick is a genius.

But I like him anyway. Sure, we have allegiances to different teams, but I see no reason why we can't be friends.

But watch the Broncos/Patriots playoff game together this weekend?

You've got to be kidding me.

Earlier this season, as the Patriots prepared to play the Broncos in Week 15 and we waited for our daughters to finish swim lessons on a Saturday morning, he invited me over to his house to watch the upcoming game. As honestly as possible, while attempting to not come off like too much of a dick, I tried to explain the situation - paint the picture of how intense I get when watching the Broncos, and explain that it's something we do as an entire family in basic isolation from the rest of the world. I felt like I was making sense.

It was a little embarrassing to admit, of course, to all of this over-the-top fandom, but I hoped I'd gotten my point across. Watching a game together would not be a good way to further the friendship.

Apparently, however, I didn't quite get the point across. Lo and behold, a few days after the Broncos advanced to the Divisional round of the AFC playoffs in dramatic fashion by knocking off the Steelers, he texted me with a similar invitation as before - offering up his house for this Saturday's Patriots/Broncos game. He was serious. Apparently his wife and daughters will be out of town.

Two guys watching a football game together makes so much sense ... except for the fact I'm a raving fanatic and it doesn't.

Surely killing any chance at a continued friendship, I was forced to respond.

It was a longer than normal text message ...

This situation is kind of making me feel like a huge asshole, but I'm obviously not being descriptive enough when portraying the Driscoll Family game day ritual," I wrote. "It's intense. It's atypical. There's a lot of pacing and yelling involved. And sweating. Plus, the whole family is into it - I'm trying very hard, with [my wife's] blessing, to indoctrinate my children the way I was. It's simply not a good idea. I suggest, perhaps, we watch a game sometime that doesn't involve the Broncos. I'm sure this all sounds crazy, but there's not much I can do about that. It's just how we do it."

I have yet to hear back from him ...

BOX SCORES

To no one’s surprise, professional boxing continued to be ridiculous this week, with Floyd Mayweather Jr. calling out Manny Pacquiao via-Twitter, challenging his arch nemesis to a bout May 5 at the MGM Grand in Las Vegas. In subsequent tweets, Mayweather goes on to point out that his recent jail sentence for battery domestic violence and harassment charges, originally scheduled to begin last week, has been delayed until June so the boxer can fulfill his contractual obligation to fight at the MGM Grand on May 5 — though no opponent has been solidified yet.  On Twitter, Mayweather prods Pacquiao to “Step up punk.”  The inflammatory tweets came mere hours after Mayweather tweeted a photograph of a wining betting slip from Monday night’s BCS Championship Game that netted him $400,000. To my knowledge, Pacquiao has not yet taken to Twitter, Facebook, LinkedIn, Foursquare or any other social networking platform to respond. … ESPN reported this week that Heisman Trophy winner Robert Griffin III will leave Baylor and enter this year’s NFL draft. According to ESPN’s story, citing an unidentified source within the Griffin family, the heralded quarterback informed Baylor coach Art Briles of his decision on Tuesday, with an announcement to the general public “imminent.” In other news, RGIII just scored another touchdown against the University of Washington in the Alamo Bowl. … As the Associated Press reported this week, Joe Paterno’s son, Jay Paterno, who was still employed by Penn State as a quarterbacks coach even after his father was fired mid-season amidst the disgrace of the Jerry Sandusky child molestation scandal, officially resigned this week — severing the final connection between the Paterno family and the storied university. With New England Patriots’ offensive coordinator and quarterbacks coach Bill O’Brien recently named as Paterno’s successor, the decision is anything but shocking. According to the AP report, Jay Paterno says he plans to “take the next few weeks to consult his wife and family about options both inside and outside of football,” which, of course, is code for “lay low and hope to one day emerge as unscathed as possible from this gawdawful mess, no doubt forever bitter for seeing his family’s name irreversibly tarnished thanks to Jerry Sandusky.”