Yes, I am the man. I was the grand poohbah of the Tom Brady Sucks conglomerate.
For 20 years, I lied to myself. I told myself that Tom Brady wasn’t really very good at all; in fact, he couldn’t shine the shoes of my FQAT (Favorite Quarterback All-Time). Most of us can relate to that feeling, as the Brady sentiment changed quickly when he signed with our favorite team. But then, at that point, no one was better than Joe Montana. Four, count them, FOUR Super Bowl rings on his fingers.
Only TB-Terry Bradshaw could match them. As we all know, he actually married Mama Boucher back there in the Louisiana swamps to secure that deal with the Voodoo queen while he was still playing at Louisiana Tech. In fact, it’s a little-known secret that TB-Terry’s (vice TB-Tommy) early life story was actually the basis for “The Waterboy,” by some accounts.
Brady is good, I would tell my friends, especially Pats fans, and even more especially those fans who I felt were late arrivers if you catch my drift. You know, like latent Cubs fans, none of those diehards who hung around for infinity waiting for their big day to arrive. No, I would say, “Well, he only won three. Montana won four, talk to me later, chumps.”
And then, Brady somehow managed to squeak out yet another Super Bowl championship, and when those same friends came back and started razzing me. I would say, “but Montana never lost one.” And I would hold onto that line like Fay Ray clinging to the Empire State Building. I was right; they were wrong, and “not nobody, not no how” could shirk me from my truth.