Imagine Being Tom Brady Now, Having to Watch Mortals Try to Succeed at Football the Way He Did
So Josh McDaniels has been fired in the middle of his second season for the second time in his second tenure as a head coach. Which obviously is not the kind of track record that drives a lot of traffic to your LinkedIn account when your out on the job market. And like I pointed out when I first got wind of the news this morning, in his 13 seasons with the offensive coordinator title in New England, the Patriots finished in the Top 8 in points 12 times. The season they didn't was 2020, the Cam Newton year. With Matt Cassel under center in 2008, they finished 8th. And in Mac Jones' rookie season in 2021, they were 6th. And in McDaniels' five seasons outside of Foxboro (technically three full seasons and two halves), he was 20th, 19th, 32nd, 12th and 30th.
What I failed to mention are the 10 seasons he got to be the voice in Tom Brady's helmet. Of those, the Patriots finished out of the top four only twice. And those two seasons were their first and last seasons together, 2006 and 2019, when they finished 7th each time. What those years also have in common is that they were the two thinnest seasons at the skills positions the franchise has ever had. The 2006 team's best receiver was Reche Caldwell. The 2019 team had Julian Edelman surrounded by a bunch of rejects from the receiver-tight end droid factory.
I bring this up because I can't help but put myself in Tom Brady's shoes. (Figuratively, not literally. I'm not picking up another tresspassing charge. I've pulled my last Ted 2 caper.) Imagine being him right now, gazing down upon us from his perspective atop Mount Olympus and seeing what's become of the franchises and coaches he has left behind in his mighty wake.
We all know the state of the Patriots. The promise they showed in 2021 feels like hallucination we all had. The highlight of this season was the speech he gave at halftime in Week 1:
… and it's been a ride down a mountain road with the brake lines cut ever since. The possibility Bill Belichick might not be here next season feels very real for the first time. In Tampa, Brady got Bruce Arians put in a home and Todd Bowles put in his place. But Bowles is a defensive coach, his team is in the bottom six in points and he's probably not long for this world either. And now McDaniels living the Out of Work Jerk life.
It's got to be a lot to process. I mean, surely Brady has been aware of his own transcendent greatness all these years. How could he not? But still, as he looks out upon the landscape of shoddy, anemic, subpar football across the lands he ruled for more than two decades, what does he make of all this? Specifically, how does he think of the lesser beings who are trying in vain to succeed as he once did?
Something he said the other night has given us some insight:
CBS Sports - Every week, Brady gets asked some fascinating questions on his "Let's Go" podcast and this week was no different. During the most recent episode, Shaquille O'Neal made a guest appearance and the former NBA star wanted to get Brady's take on who the next Tom Brady might end up being in the NFL. …
Although [Patrick] Mahomes' name came up, it doesn't sound like Brady actually thinks there's going to be another Brady. …
"People have to do it for a long time, I did it for a long time," Brady said. "When I look at my career, I was able to do it every single year for basically every single game. I only missed twice: Once when I got suspended for four games and once when I tore my ACL. Every game wasn't perfect, but every game was pretty good. Most of the time, I never put our team in a position to lose and there are very few guys like that, that I'm watching over and over and over."
Probably for the first time since his Sundays were free when he was at Michigan, Brady has the luxury of something the rest of us took for granted throughout his entire career. And that is, perspective. Now that he's watching games like a fan instead of having to break down film looking for safety rotations and blitz disguises, he now has the chance to compare himself to the lesser quarterbacks who dot the landscape. And to truly appreciate how much better than them he was. It has to be eye-opening for him. And a source of a great deal of pride. But at the same time, maddening to have to watch people fail at something he was able to master for so long.
Imagine being so expert at something and then having to experience average people trying to do it. Watching NFL games for him must be like Miles Davis going to his 3rd grader's recorder concert. Rembrandt trying to make sense of the paintings at the MoMA. Norm MacDonald going to an Open Mic Night. Hemingway reading Barstool. Jenna Jameson taking a virgin to the summit of Bone Mountain. It has to be more frustrating than gratifying.
And if there weren't $350 million of Fox Sports money waiting for him next year, he's probably be tempted to unretire again, knowing that on Day 1 with a new team he'd be one of the top half dozen or so quarterbacks in the league again. But he's got to keep watching these games, if for no other reason than to get used to how much worse everyone is than him. Otherwise he'll never get through his first season in the booth.