As a long suffering Philadelphia Eagles fan, this seems like an especially weird week for me to blow sunshine up the butt of New England Patriots quarterback, and liver of the charmed-est of charmed lives, Tom Brady …
Ridiculously handsome, maybe the best to ever do his job, Supermodel wife, adorable kids and the house he sold, for nearly 300 percent percent profit, to build “the nice one.”
… but I’m about to pucker up.
Regardless of the fact that he and Emperor Palpatine – I mean, Patriots head coach Bill Belichick – are most likely going to extend their record of winning more Super Bowls than any other quarterback/coach tandem in the history of the NFL at the expense of Eagles fans this coming Sunday, it’s the other drama Brady found himself tied up in this week that has given me
more respect for him than any of his football related accomplishments.
Brady recently released an online docu-series, “Tom vs. Time,” detailing the discipline and sacrifice it takes to be arguably the best quarterback in the NFL at an age when most players have already retired or overstayed their welcome. Propaganda to further his interests in going into the high-end Physio business after football/slightly embarrassing homage to the greatness that is yourself? Sure, but be honest, if anyone has earned it, it’s this guy.
One person that had a more interesting review is Alex Reimer, a contributor to the “Kirk and Callahan Show” on sports radio station WEEI in Massachusetts.
“It was Patriots porn … It was fine. (laughing) It was okay. I thought the first scene was so staged; Brady’s, like, in the kitchen, his kid’s being an annoying little pissant …”
Hello? Is this thing on? That silence is the sound of an entire region, fathers around the world, and one pissed off G.O.A.T. seething and plotting your demise.
Full disclaimer, I hate children.
Okay, that’s not true. But I’ve gone into great detail about how and why I have zero patience for uncontrolled children in public
spaces. But five-year-old Vivian Lake Brady was not kicking the back of Reimer’s seat at the bar. Or destroying his shins with a miniature shopping cart at the grocery store. Or playing tag with one of her siblings in a busy parking lot while Tom and Gisele were getting papped
instead of parenting. She was a little amped up IN HER OWN HOME. Probably at least in part due to the sights of a film crew, lights, and cameras in her house flooding her with adrenalin, because, famous parents or not, that’s probably an anomaly in her home.
So, in other words, she was being a normal kid. And Reimer, a complete dick.
Unfortunately for him, not only is the show based in the heart of Patriots country, and nearly the entire audience of the show made up of diehard Patriots fans, but part of what makes the show popular is the phone call that the hosts have received every Monday morning for several years …
“Take a picture of your caller ID for Ebay, mother@#$%&@!, cause this is the last my number’s going to appear on the display.”
Reimer was, of course, immediately suspended. Indefinitely.
To his credit, Brady called in to speak with Kirk and Callahan one more time.
Really, Tom? You’re going to “evaluate whether or not I want to come on this show again”? C’MON, MAN! Where’s that killer instinct that won five Super Bowls?
If I had Brady’s money, fame and power and a hacky morning radio show douchebag took a shot at my five-year-old daughter, the call would have gone MUCH differently.
“Good morning, thank you for joining us in light of what happened this week.”
“Is Alex there, as I requested?”
“Yes, I’m here, and I just wanted to say that I …”
“SILENCE! You are forbidden from speaking unless it is to apologize to my daughter … or to ask her in what order she would like you to arrange her My Little Pony collection. Or in what styles she’d like you to braid the ponies’ manes. Or which ponies to invite to the tea party. And which outfit that she’d like you to wear, the Fifi …
“… or the Brony …
“… while you serve the tea. And then, the only acceptable response is ‘yes, your grace.’ If you can abide by those terms, I will continue to call into the show and you can keep your job. Are we clear?”
“Good. Who’s the ‘pissant’ now?”
“I am, sir.”
“So I thought. Talk to you all next week.” Click.
But Brady didn’t do that. He said his peace in a measured, reasoned tone. Like a rational person. And a disappointed father.
And later, at a pre-Super Bowl press session, he added a seemingly final word on the situation:
I didn’t get into it much. I certainly hope the guy is not fired. Look, I think we all go through our life and sometimes we say things we shouldn’t say or make mistakes, and that happens. I can express it and you move on.
And that’s why Brady is a legend.
Tony Marion is a writer and filmmaker who splits time between Lancaster, PA and Baltimore, MD. He lives for the work of Descendents (the band), Chuck Palahniuk and Rian Johnson. Check out the digital embodiment of procrastination he calls his website here.