Joe Montana Realizes Tom Brady is Living 'His Life' Now, and Joe 'HATES' Him For It

Maddie Meyer. Getty Images.

It's funny how things work out in this business sometimes. Not 24 hours ago I posted about how Lawrence Taylor is making the case that the best quarterback of all time is not the obvious choice, but is, in fact, someone he faced in his career:

It was a fun piece to write. Taylor makes a solid argument by saying how much harder quarterbacking (and I'll expand it to say offensive football in general) was 30-plus years ago. I countered by pointing out Brady doubled some of Montana's totals in critical metrics like wins, postseason wins, touchdowns and passing yards. But it's one of those quality barguments where good points can be made on both sides. (Just as long as you don't go off the rails and claim the GOAT is Peyton Manning or Aaron Rodgers or anything deranged like that.) It generated over 100 comments, only a few of which were telling me to get off Brady's dick. So I consider that a win. 

And then, the universe answered. The subject echoed off the internet and came right back to me. Because according to a lengthy profile by ESPN, Lawrence Taylor might not think Brady has surpassed Joe Montana, but Joe Montana most certainly does. And he is PISSED about it. 

The author was on with Dan Patrick saying that very thing in no uncertain terms:

Source - In 2015 … Brady won his fourth Super Bowl.

When Pete Carroll called for the pass that ended up in Malcolm Butler's hands, Montana yelled what everyone else did, but with a little more on the line.

"Give the damn ball to Marshawn," he says.

In 2016, at Super Bowl 50, the game's greats all returned for a ceremony. … Nearly every living Super Bowl MVP took the field. Montana was cheered. Brady, recently shadowed by deflated footballs, was booed. A month later Brady and Julian Edelman worked out in Brady's home gym. "Houston" was written on a whiteboard. Edelman asked what it meant, and Brady said that's where the Super Bowl was being held that season.

"We're gonna get you past Joe," Edelman told him.

Brady stared at him.

"I'm not going for Montana," he said. "I'm going for Jordan." …

Brady liked to text Joe from time to time and talk about breaking his record. Joe laughed but his inner circle quietly bristled. I ask Steve Young if Tom Brady knows he's in Joe Montana's head? "I think anybody that traffics in this space knows exactly what's going on," Young says finally. "But everyone has to recognize and appreciate that's how you get there. Joe is not immune." …

Brady praises Montana as "a killer" in public, but Joe's friends feel like he's made little effort to get to know the older player in real life. They have each other's phone numbers. Something about Brady specifically seems to irritate Montana -- friends say he'd be happy if Patrick Mahomes won eight titles -- but the truth is, the two men are similar, driven by similar emotions to be great. Ultimately Montana may not care about a ring count, but watching himself get knocked down a spot fires deep powerful impulses and trips old wires even now.

By way of explaining why Montana seems so salty, the article explains why he's always been that way. His high school coach sounds like a dick who resented his success. His family claimed it wasn't much better for him at Notre Dame. And he still hasn't gotten over how George Seifert made the switch to Young permanent even after Montana healed up during the 1992 season. Some guys like bear grudges like tattoos they don't want removed. And when that resentment brings them the kind of success it brought him, you have to respect it. 

Still, it doesn't seem healthy to me, but what do I know? Maybe if next week Barstool hires some young gun who creates better content than I do, gets more pageviews than me, and starts attracting all the women that have traditionally been filling my DMs trying to seduce me, I might get a little jealous. 

But personally, I've always admired the older guys who appreciate the guys who break their records, in the same way I like young guys who respect the ones who came before. Growing up I remember certain MLB players - for some reason Bob Feller comes to mind - who seemed to never give an interview where they didn't mention how much they were back in their day than these young pussies who think they're so great. But then Ted Williams appeared on the cover of Sports Illustrated with the headline "I Hope Rod Carew Bats .400," with his arm around Carew. And in the 90s, I read a book by Teddy Ballgame ranking the all time best hitters, where he made sure to include his favorites of the time, like Frank Thomas. It just always struck me as a better way of going through your retirement years than clinging to your glory days and hoping against hope no one ever outdoes you. 

And if I'm Brady, I'm actually loving this. Imagine sitting in the stands at Candlestick as a kid, wearing your Joe Montana jersey. Watching Joe Montana complete "The Catch" to Dwight Clark, the signature moment of his career, right in front of you. Having Joe Montana make that imprint on your soul and wanting some day to be him. Then supplanting Joe Montana as the undisputed GOAT. Only to have Joe Montana despise you for it. Is it better to be loved or feared? It's better to be hated and respected. 

Eventually just about everyone has their records taken away from them. Sometimes by the very same young person they inspired to greatness. Tom Brady wanted to be like his hero, and ended up taking the man's life from him and living it as his own. That's an accomplishment no one else will ever match.