Before Tim Tebow, there was Danny Wuerffel
An opinion piece in Friday’s Wall Street Journal, headlined “Tim Tebow’s Role Model,” invited readers to remember that the position of faith-based quarterback was not invented by the Denver Bronco who ate Sports Center.
There was before Tebow another highly decorated former Florida Gators quarterback who won games and competed for souls.
Danny Wuerffel, aside from the rare mention in the WSJ, is working a quiet corner of athletic celebrity these days. While Tebow emerged as the most discussed figure in the nation’s most-watched league, Wuerffel was tending an interstate urban ministry and recovering from a condition that has banged around his gifted body like a wiffle ball.
When the two first met, Tebow was an eighth grader attending a passing camp that Wuerffel worked. “He was one of the youngest kids, but there was something special about him athletically and with his drive even then,” Wuerffel remembered.
The ties grew between the two as Tebow began duplicating Wuerffel’s feats at Florida. Where Wuerffel won the Gators’ first national title at the close of the 1996 season, Tebow won their most recent 12 years later. They each added a Heisman to the Gators’ trophy case.
As a junior at Florida, Tebow won an award given to the college player who best combines athletics, academics and community service. It’s called the Wuerffel Trophy.
Now, though, Wuerffel smiles, wondering who is role modeling whom.
Sitting on the porch of his Decatur home recently, he noticed both his 8-year-old son Jonah and 3-year-old daughter Macy on one knee, heads bowed, fists on foreheads in an attitude of grateful prayer. Yes, they were Tebowing.
And a week ago, he found himself joking with a church group that had scheduled him to speak at the same time that Tebow was taking down the Pittsburgh Steelers in overtime.
“So, I had to ask the question of these Methodists: Could they really consider themselves Christians if they had an event during the Broncos game? I mean, c’mon,” he said.
On Friday morning, as all the world it seemed was weighing Tebow’s prospects in the NFL playoffs’ second round, Wuerffel was showing a visitor around the south Atlanta headquarters of Desire Street Ministries.
New calling
DSM already was established in New Orleans by the time Wuerffel showed up as a fourth-round pick of the Saints in 1997. After Hurricane Katrina flooded the Christian charity’s Upper Ninth Ward home base in 2005, Wuerffel earned a battlefield promotion. A volunteer with DSM during his playing days, he became the executive director, in charge of rescue.
He oversaw a change in scope and shift in direction. While still heavily invested in New Orleans — it currently is in the process of rebuilding its school there — DSM now is collaborating with other ministries in Florida, Alabama and Texas. In Atlanta, it partners with two south Atlanta Christian groups, Summerhill Community Ministries and FCS Metro Merge.
Wuerffel describes DSM as a helping hand to its urban community partners, “a ministry to the ministries now,” he said.
“I spend a good bit of my time working with the ministry leaders, trying to encourage and help them. I spend a lot of time telling our story and fundraising. I’m the head storyteller and hopefully a good encourager to all those who are in the DSM family,” he said. He is, in other words, the maker of a charitable rain.
Uprooted from New Orleans, DSM eventually chose Atlanta as the hub for its operations. Upstairs in what was in the late 1890s the blacksmith building of the old Atlanta Stockade is a small office decorated in inspirational passages and assorted football headwear. The symbolism of remaking a former prison into a place dedicated to hope and renewal greatly pleases the current occupant.
Friday, Wuerffel briskly climbed the stairs to his office. In the upstairs hallway, the former Gator playfully cuffed a Georgia Bulldog stuffed toy off a cabinet and on to the floor. He did not show any trace of the muscle weakness or fatigue that has been dogging him since last summer.
Faith while suffering
In June the 37-year-old Wuerffel was diagnosed with Guillain-Barre Syndrome, a disorder of unknown cause that turns the body’s immune system against the nervous system.
He followed the usual course of those with the condition: Partial paralysis in arms and legs at the onset, a prolonged muscular weakness afterward and a lingering fatigue. While some sufferers develop such difficulty breathing that they require a respirator, Wuerffel’s symptoms did not progress quite that far.
The first few weeks after the diagnosis were particularly jarring as a middle-aged former elite athlete struggled just to function. After word leaked out about Wuerffel’s condition, DSM had to take on additional volunteers to respond to the flood of inquiries and get-well wishes.
“We were all very concerned for him and his family,” said Katie Delp, the director of operations for FCS Metro Merge. “It was a huge blow to everyone.”
There is no cure, but in most cases, the symptoms gradually recede.
Months later, Wuerffel’s movement is unimpaired, but his needle still fluctuates between half-full and E.
“It’s really like trying to learn to live at a new speed, which is hard when you’re used to going hard for a lot of years,” he said.
“In fact the longer it has gone the harder it has been in some ways because I’m ready to go, yet I can’t. I told my wife I feel that each day is like a mini NASCAR race, but I’m driving a moped.”
He said he has tried to approach these last few months as an educational, not medical, experience. His absence, he noted, has prompted others to expand their roles with the charity, becoming more valuable in the process. With less vitality, he has been forced to ration his energy, sharpening his focus on the most important issues. And he came to realize that “so often I would go home and bring my second-string energy and not bring my best self to my family.” He grew determined to fix that.
“The prognosis is that I should continue to get better,” Wuerffel said. “I’m not sure when or how. It’s like a lot of things in life. There’s enough things to whine and complain about and enough things to be really grateful for. It could be a whole lot worse. And yet, it’s enough to legitimately be discouraged from time to time.”
As a pro, Wuerffel never made much of an impact. He started but six games in three seasons in New Orleans, and kicked around three more years before retiring after the 2002 season with Washington. He finished with nearly twice the number of career interceptions (22) as touchdowns (12).
Where he was most consistent and unshakable was in his faith. There is no one right way for evangelical players to use the platform of football, Wuerffel said. Tebow does the grand post-touchdown display; Wuerffel used to subtly fold his hands in prayer after a big moment. Tebow has sparked some debate with his more in-your-face Christianity, whereas, said Wuerffel, “I certainly was open about my faith but not probably as outspoken as he’s been.” Each to his own.
Everywhere else across the sporting USA, nobody’s bigger than the ubiquitous Tebow. In advance of Saturday night’s playoff game in New England, an ESPN poll determined that he is the country’s most popular athlete.
In a one-time blacksmith’s building across the street from Maynard Jackson High, however, he’ll never escape second place.
“We all like [Tebow] here, but Danny’s still our hero,” whispered one DSM staffer.



