IT IS A VENERABLE TRADITION AMONGST SPORTS FANS, especially old and cranky sports fans, to lament the modern era’s absence of athletic heroes. In The New Bill James Historical Abstract, author James hilariously lampooned this trait. Under the heading “Old Ballplayers Never Die,” James would repeatedly quote a ballplayer from a previous era disparaging his latter day successors. Particularly laughable was an observation by an early 20th century star made in 1937 a few decades after the speaker’s career had ended: “The Boys don’t take the game as seriously as we used to . . . swing music and the automobile have changed the temperament of youth.”
In our day, it’s not just old ballplayers who unjustly malign today’s professional athletes. Seemingly every time a superstar turns surly with his media interrogators, the press responds by ritualistically ruing the lack of modern day athletic heroes.
Professional athletes based in Boston seem to have a particularly tough time in this regard. Not only have they been preceded by some truly spectacular performers, they also have to deal with a local sports media historically composed of chronic curmudgeons. The Boston press in the past has taken sadistic delight in savaging the likes of Roger Clemens, Carl Yastrzemski, and Ted Williams. Thus, it is a delicious irony that an athlete who is actually a worthy hero for America’s youth plies his trade in Boston: Tom Brady.
BRADY HAS LED the New England Patriots to three of the past four Super Bowls. He has won each of them and was the MVP in two of them. But what makes the Tom Brady Story particularly inspiring is that he wasn’t supposed to be this good. According to the football gurus, he wasn’t supposed to be very good at all.
Before the Patriots made Brady their sixth round draft pick in 2000, Pro Football Weekly ranked him the sixth best quarterback available in the draft. Ranking above Brady were the likes of Chad Pennington, Chris Redman (who is currently vying for a spot on the Patriots’ roster as a back-up to Brady) and a fellow named Giovanni Carmazzi.
The scouting report on Brady was grim indeed. Pro Football Weekly described Brady this way: “Poor build. Very skinny and narrow . . . Can get pushed down more easily than you’d like. Lacks mobility and ability to avoid the rush. Lacks a really strong arm.” About the only nice thing the magazine said about Brady was that he had “some Brian Griese in him” which, believe it or not, was intended as a compliment.
SINCE RECEIVING THE MEDIA’S VOTE OF NO-CONFIDENCE five short years ago, Brady has defined himself as one of the great quarterbacks of his day. But as we all know, on-field performance doesn’t in itself qualify an athlete as a role-model. Just look at Barry Bonds.
With Brady there have been no scandals, no public displays of immaturity similar to the regrettable incident where his predecessor, Drew Bledsoe, went “crowd surfing” at a rock concert with one of his offensive linemen. (That incident ended on a sour note for all concerned as the two beefy football players hurled themselves from the stage and landed on a 23 year old co-ed. The victim got $1.2 million in an out-of-court settlement for her troubles.)
But even more remarkable has been Brady’s complete absence of public displays of avarice. It’s a common notion that an obsession with finances amongst prominent athletes is a relatively new phenomenon; quite to the contrary, old-timers like Ty Cobb and Joe DiMaggio constantly and publicly feuded with their teams’ owners over money. The Boston Celtics center Bill Russell was routinely paid exactly $1 more per year than his rival Wilt Chamberlain.
Coming hard on the heels of three Super Bowl titles and with free agency looming, Brady could have “demanded the moon” (in the words of Boston Globe columnist Jackie MacMullan) from the Patriots in this off-season’s contract extension talks. Instead, Brady settled for a pact that paid him significantly less than his market worth.
Perhaps most refreshingly, Brady eschewed employing the media as an interlocutor during the negotiations. In the words of Sports Illustrated’s Peter King, “Tom Brady kept his word. He wasn’t a pig at the trough during contract extension negotiations with the Patriots.”
AS BRADY ENTERS WHAT SHOULD BE THE PRIME OF HIS CAREER, it’s not too soon to wonder where he’ll rank in the pantheon of football’s greatest heroes. Already having won three Super Bowls (more than any quarterback except Joe Montana, Troy Aikman, and Terry Bradshaw), perhaps the only question regarding Brady is whether he’ll be regarded as one of the best quarterbacks in history or the best.
But the greatest historic parallel to Tom Brady is not found in football; it is instead found in basketball’s Bill Russell. Russell is considered by many to be the greatest winner in the history of professional sports. Russell earned this status–during his career he played in ten Game 7’s. He won them all.
In the NFL, every playoff game is a Game 7. At this point in his career, Brady is an unblemished 9-0 in post-season action. With such accomplishments, Brady is already keeping company with sports’ greatest legends.
So the next time an embittered old-timer bends your ear with a tired soliloquy on the sorry state of the Modern Athlete, tell him about Tom Brady–one of the greatest winners in NFL history who conducts himself like a champion off the field as well. And make a point of enjoying Brady’s efforts. His kind is rare in any generation.
Dean Barnett writes about politics and other matters at soxblog.com
