This is the chronicalization of a break up between a player and a loyal fan and what led to this outcome. Acceptance is an important part of life, and I’ve reached that point. I can only hope that you all will too.
As many of you know, I’m a pretty big Patriots fan. Bill Belichick is like family to me and, up until March of 2020, I considered Tom Brady to be a part of that unwavering family as well. But a relationship was destroyed that month. And from those ashes, a vendetta was born. While COVID was busy infecting our planet with a disease there’s still no real cure for, I was dealing with a sickness myself. One of which there is also no cure.
On St. Patrick’s Day, the holiest of days for an Irish fella like me self, my heart was ripped out of my chest by a person who I’ve done nothing but love and cheer for. On Tuesday, March 17th, this came across my Twitter feed:
I remember it like it was yesterday: I was at my horrendous old job selling cars when I saw the news. I immediately stood up and went outside. Legs like jello. I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. I thought to myself, “No way, this has to be a mistake. Or some sick joke. Today? New England’s favorite holiday. THIS is when our worlds get shattered!? It cannot be..” But I was just kidding myself. Deep down I knew it was time. The writing was on the wall for quite a while and it was about time I faced reality. Tom Brady was leaving the New England Patriots. I was outside in a daze. Not caring if any of the numerous cars driving in the lot hit me…maybe deep down that’s what I wanted. That sadness manifested itself in the form of a Snapchat story:
The sadness turned to anger then back to despair then to false acceptance before resorting back to sadness. And that pit of agony is where I found myself for months. But I persevered. I even did enough soul searching to dig up the will power to write a goodbye blog about him. “Goodbye Tom”. And while I may have been bidding farewell to the man and the player, I was also saying goodbye to a part of myself. 20 wondrous years filled with laughs, tears…good times and tough times…all came to an end with one single tweet.
I was broken.
But as the days passed, I did what anyone would do: I kept a log going on Twitter about each passing day without TB12 on my team:
It goes on for quite some time, but as you can see, I was not in a good place.
Full disclosure, things started to get “better” and I did get a bit…upset…
But as those days turned to weeks and weeks morphing into months, I too began to change. Emotionally. Physically. Spiritually. And my sadness turned to anger. “How could he do this to his teammates, to his coaches…how could he do this to me…” I began to feel something I never thought I would: disdain towards Tom Brady.
Over the last NFL season, there were things said and tweets posted that I am not proud of. There were criticisms made and backhanded compliments dished out that this man did not deserve. After all, did he really do anything wrong? Relationships end. Bill Belichick has worn on almost every player he’s ever coached and the GOAT is no exception. But I just couldn’t shake the thought that, at the end of the day, he chose another team over my own. He chose another coach over the greatest to ever do it. He chose someone else over…me.
And it’s that notion that has driven me to this: unfollowing. And if you know anything about the time we’re in, you understand how serious it is when you unfollow someone..
It’s time to sever the cord. Maybe it’s been that time for a while, but better late than never and a move had to be made. You should know about cutting cords, right Tom? You can’t heal from a break up until you accept that the break up occurred. Why should I hold on to something that he left behind months ago? It started with the happy social media posts, it reached a fever pitch with the infamous “I’m having fun again” text and it crescendoed with a Super Bowl win over the Chiefs. While I was happy to see Mahomes lose in such embarrassing fashion, I couldn’t be completely happy for the victor.
So I start today anew. Not only a new man, but a better one. I accept the decision Thomas Edward Patrick Brady made, and I will now go back to MY reality, treating him as just another player. I freely allow myself to criticize, fairly or unfairly, and cheer against someone that I would’ve taken a bullet for. Tom Brady is now just another faceless bag on bones under an opposing uniform that I want to see demolished and obliterated at all costs.
While I accept the decision he’s made, that does not mean I have to like it. Because of his move, I was forced to watch imbecile after imbecile, moron after moron, sit there on their talk show or their Twitter account and repeatedly bash, not only my team, but my head coach. My leader. My King. Inadvertently, Tom Brady is responsible for the worst sports year of my life. And that is something that I will not be forgetting any time soon.
Will there be a little extra vitriol spewed in my heckling when he makes the trek back to Foxboro this season? I’d be lying if I said no. I am a scorned lover of sorts after all. And hell hath no fury like a fan scorned.