Tom Brady Got What He's Earned: The Greatest Of All Tributes

I'll try to keep this brief. Because I have to find Tom Brady to tell him how I'm doing. And he wanted to know. And my answer: "I'm doing a lot better than if we'd drafted Todd Husak." But then again, he's probably worked that out on his own by now. 

The longer answer is that I'm still trying to process last night the way I'm still trying to process that 20 years of Tom Brady actually happened. When I first left my old job to talk about this stuff for a living, one of the long time Patriots beat reporters told me he envies me. Why? "Because this is fun for you." He went on to explain that he doesn't care who wins or loses. He just wants a story he can talk about in an interesting way. That put this whole job in perspective in a hurry. Working for Barstool, we all just get to be honest, be ourselves, not pretend to be objective. To live and die with our rooting interests. And for that I'm eternally grateful. I also shared that encounter with my friends, who took oaths that if I ever get to the point where I stop caring, they'll give me a swift and merciful death and spare me from the accursed, half life of just covering the Patriots like they're a Town Council meeting. 

So last night was a reminder of that. And of something I've mentioned before, but have to bring up now. When Brady ran one in from the 6 against the Raiders in the Snow Bowl (which Belichick referenced last night), he slipped and fell flat on his face. I remember because I got up off the couch to celebrate, slipped on the tile floor, took the same digger he did. And deep in the back recesses of my brain, I'm convinced that any minute I'm going to wake up to find I smacked my head on the wood stove, and got knocked out. And the 24 years since have all just been a coma dream. The Tuck Rule was never called. They didn't win that game or the Super Bowl against the Rams. Brady wasn't the starter in 2002. The free bi-weekly newspaper known as Barstool Sports never caught on. And I'm going back to work at my courthouse job on Monday. That's how important Brady's existence has been to me and millions of others. So if I get the choice between waking up or staying in this coma dream reality, I'm taking the fecking blue pill. 

What was remarkable about the Brady Hall of Fame induction was the size and scale of the thing. It's stunning when you think about it. I mean, no one has ever forgotten or will ever forget that he was the 199th pick and seventh QB taken. Events of this magnitude simply do not end careers with beginnings that humble. Usually there's a direct relationship between how things begin and end in this life. Elizabeth II was destined to be Queen from conception, and got a funeral that, to my knowledge, is still going on. That's life. If anything, things might go the opposite way, from grand beginnings to humble ends. Richard III was a great warrior king, and in 2015 they found his body under a parking lot in Leicester. Wellington defeated Napoleon at Waterloo, but at his funeral Tennyson spent most of the eulogy nattering on about what a great leader Nelson was. 

The same rule applies to sports tributes. Generally speaking the sold-out-arena celebrations and the statue-worthy careers tend to be the ones we all saw coming. Gretzky. Jordan. Elway. Manning. Griffey Jr. Ripken Jr. It's the rarest of all things that a guy comes out of nowhere to have it end on a high note on this level. Brady. David Ortiz. Possibly a few I can't remember right now. So this was one for the books. 

The night started at the red carpet, with Dante on the mic and Nick Fasoli behind the camera. And Brady, his curiousity about my status and how it was to see me aside, it was a Geek Out fest of the highest order. If you sent a 35 year old virgin who speaks fluent Klingon to a ComicCon, he wouldn't fanboy harder than we did. And I was especially guilty. I tried to sign Stephon Gilmore. Got Jason McCourty to open up about how Devin grabbed the credit for his PBU of Brandin Cooks in the end zone in Super Bowl LIII because he was a veteran who always knows where the camera was. Spoke to Danny Amendola about squashing his beef with Belichick and had him point out the double pass from Edelman that helped beat Baltimore in the playoffs was a wobbler. And might wake up tomorrow to a half dozen court summonses for Restraining Order hearings. Worth it.

In fact, this whole event was like that. Walking the stadium floor, in front of the stage, a trip through the frontal lobe of every Patriots fan. No matter where your eyes turned, they landed on another person critical to the Dynasty's success. Team Hall of Famers. Former coaches. Executives. Several Patriots rookies, including Drake Maye and Ja'Lynn Polk, sitting together wearing their own Pats jerseys. People who need no introduction introducing themselves. And now that I think of it, not one media member in sight. Though I talked to some at practice who expressed zero interest in being there; they were simply showing up like it's their job. 

By the time I made my way down to the VIP area, there was 75% of the Brady 4, since Dave had to peel early to get to the Celtics viewing party across the way. And this happened:

It all culminated in Mr. Kraft's announcement that Brady was getting the statue treatment. The first one in franchise history. A 12-footer, for the obvious reason. I would've preferred something bigger. Something along the lines of the Colossus of Rhodes. But there are probably FAA restrictions about building anything worthy of Brady. And of course, there was Brady's speech, which was 30 minutes of his usual brilliant oratory. Speaking to the world, while appealing to the base. Kicking in the dopamine, oxytocin and endorphin in all 60,000 of us. 

But the highlight of the evening, without question, was Belichick. Not since the last time they won an AFC conference championship at home has this building rocked the way it did. Not even Taylor Swift ever inspired this level of noise. Or devotion:

Capped off by Brady's words for Belichick. Which confirmed what I spent 20 years arguing with anyone who dared say otherwise:

Let the idiotic talk about things ending badly between Brady, Belichick and RKK be buried once and for all. Deep underneath a 12-foot statue of the quarterback. Soon to be joined by another of the coach who helped make him great. Commissioned by the owner without whom none of this would've ever existed. We have been truly blessed. And the Good Lord willing, will continue to be. The Greatest of All Time receiving the Greatest of All Tributes was confirmation of that.