Yes, I love Tom Brady
But his excellence does make him easy to hate
It’s easy to do. The perfect hair, the supermodel wife, the eyepopping success — for goodness sakes, the man says hello to his mom when he’s on national TV. It’s so easy to hate New England Patriots quarterback Tom Brady.
It’s convenient to believe that he’s the personification of everything we hated in high school: the jock who always seemed to get away with not studying and played hero on Friday night. And with Mr. Brady and the Patriots defeating the Los Angeles Rams in the Super Bowl Sunday and winning their sixth Lombardi trophy, his haters are once again out in force.
Whether its Patriot fatigue, his questionable choice in headgear, bizarre diets or even the supermodel-like photo spreads in “GQ,” Mr. Brady has yet to receive the kind of late-career reverence afforded other transcendent stars, such as Michael Jordan, Wayne Gretzky or even Mr. Brady’s childhood hero, Joe Montana.
To be fair, there reasons to dislike the Patriots. Allegations of cheating have hounded the dynasty for years, and the “deflategate” scandal provided more fuel for the fire. At least one kid even channeled that frustration into a winning science fair entry.
Yet I suspect a darker reason motivates much of the hatred. The past 20 years have conditioned Americans to be skeptical of our heroes. After watching Muhammad Ali deteriorate into a shell of himself, greats Mark McGwire, Sammy Sosa, Barry Bonds and Lance Armstrong become poster children for the triumphs of chemistry over athleticism, and countless professional athletes accused of domestic violence and other crimes, we’ve become conditioned to regard achievement as a reason for suspicion instead of celebration.
Americans love an underdog and they love a winner, but only to a point. And it’s easy to forget now that Mr. Brady was once an underdog — a humble 199th draft pick who made the most of his chance when starter Drew Bledsoe got injured. As the accolades and trappings of fame piled high upon him, however, it became harder to believe the narrative that he was simply an everyman who got his shot. In an era where our heroes are increasingly diminished, either by overexposure or a relentless social media culture, sometimes the worst thing you can do for your image is be relentlessly, consistently excellent.
Despite all of that, I’m writing this piece to come clean about a dirty secret: I love watching Tom Brady. There, I said it.
(And, for the record, I am and always will be a San Diego Chargers fan — emphasis on
I root for Mr. Brady because I admire his talent and work ethic. Many root for him for the same reason we love superhero movies: We like to watch winners win. Make it close, of course, but by the end, we want the hero standing over a vanquished enemy, the city saved and all of us living happily ever after.
Is the TB12 Method a little much? Yes. And yes, “Tom vs. Time,” his Facebook reality series-turned-informercial was way too slick. And yes, Mr. Brady’s seeming fandom, however casual, for President Donald Trump has rubbed some fans the wrong way. And yes, the Patriots under Bill Bellichick have practiced a ruthless win-at-all costs strategy that can border on the unethical.
But many players are ruthless, have political affiliations we may not like and have odd relationships with food. Mr. Brady’s sins are clearly magnified by his stardom. Would we vilify a lesser player for eschewing strawberries?
The way Mr. Brady makes recordshattering performances seem routine shouldn’t allow us to ignore the fact that we witness history pretty much every time No. 12 takes the ball.
On the other hand, history suggests hating Mr. Brady is just par for the course. Wilt Chamberlin was dominant, but never beloved. Jack Nicklaus was far superior as a golfer, but never won over the crowds the way Arnold Palmer did. Like those legends before him, Mr. Brady has earned grudging appreciation, but typically not admiration. In each case, it took the rigors of age and a decline of skills — Nicklaus in the ‘86 Masters, Chamberlin late in life — before each was truly appreciated in his time. The same may be true for the famously private Mr. Brady.
So will Mr. Brady eventually earn not just respect, but adulation? I’ll wait and see.