The heart wants what it wants and we wanted Tom

Update: Feb. 1, 2023. My hero, Tom Brady, has announced his retirement "for good". I wrote the following after his last "retirement", though this time I know it is true. Couldn't love you more, Tom. Thanks for showing millions of us how the game should be played, for providing a beacon during hard times, for being you. I will miss you.

February 5, 2017 I had been watching Superbowl LI in my mom's man cave. She was, of course, back in her room. She wasn't a football fan, but told me she loved my enthusiasm for Tom Brady and (at the time, before he left them) the Pats. So when they pulled out a victory and I ran screaming into her room, seeing her face light up with sheer joy was its own kind of success. I had made my late mother happy just by being happy myself.

The end of that game sticks with me because I was worried about Tom's mother Galynn - whom he was hugging, and who was suffering from breast cancer at the time. I worried she might pass away, and could only begin to appreciate the pain her illness was causing Tom. Little did I know that on that night, the mother I should have worried about was my own.

The following year, I wasn't in Alice, Texas at Mom's, but in London. I was a master's student at King's College London. I would watch the game, but very late at night. I think it ran til about 2 a.m. GMT and even though the Eagles trumped my boys, what a helluva game and night/morning I had. I wore my TB #12 jersey into class, Philosophy, which ostensibly started at 9 a.m. It was the first morning I had ever been late for this or any other class (though I had started my course two weeks late, and missed a day when I was stuck in Paris, but I digress). Walking in in my jersey, my Irish tutor (what we call a professor here in the States) was all smiles. I could tell he didn't think it was bad that his oldest student (I was 56) had shown up late. "I was watching the Superbowl, I'm sorry," I whispered as he passed. He grinned and asked a question I wish I could remember, which indicated he knew nothing about American football. Nor did the rest of the class, of course, but I shone. Just as my mother had smiled at my happiness, so too did Niall.

My mother would die just a few months later, unexpectedly, in Texas. When I had to trundle on "home" to Connecticut a few months later with cat Wally, the only - and I mean the only - thing that brought a smile to my face was the upcoming Superbowl. Knowing Tom was still playing - and playing as well as he did - filled my heart with glee. I bought football balloons. I was in a motel, but dolled it up as if I were having a party with my cat. I hated leaving the UK, but the one thing I preferred in America was our football, and specifically Tom Brady.

When he left New England and was signed by Tampa, I was dubious. Maybe he should just retire. Pack it up. And besides, I hated everything Florida represented, with the possible exception of Disneyworld, which I have never been to but imagine is an approximation of the park in Anaheim, where I practically grew up.

But although 2020 was not his year, 2021 was, and we all will remember the big win followed by Tom, a little or a lot drunk, tossing the Lombardi trophy across the stream to Gronk, caught by that other player, his little daughter screaming daddy daddy daddy. What a day!

This season, I've been on tenterhooks. In this last game, against the Rams, I had an unfortunate phone call toward the end. It was awkward, but I actually asked this person, a person in authority and whose advice I needed, if we could talk after the game. He said with a laugh, "Sure. I'll watch it too." We knew it was history. I did not want to admit that, as I snapped away from my iPad, one photo after another, just as I'd been doing for so many years. There was the 2013 Superbowl, which I watched with my friend Sam in a beat-up motel room, but which seemed like a fine party in retrospect. I ran jumping for joy the next day, feeling my excitement reverberate in the lobby. Everyone in Connecticut, it seemed, felt what I did. I had and still have a Pats cup and shopping bag. Later, though, I felt odd using them. I was no longer a fan. How could I be? I was a TB fan.

My brother, in Hawaii, called during a game a while back. I said I felt bad even talking to him. "If I were really a fan I would not even talk one minute to you right now." He replied: "If you were really a fan, you'd be at the game."

I stewed on that a long while. I wanted to go. I recently looked up the cost. It wouldn't have been that expensive, but with Covid, my tight finances, etc., how could I? I so, so, so regret never having seen TB play in person. I was a Jeter fan, almost at the same insane level, and going to Yankees games made memories I'll never forget.

Tom, I know you'll never read this, but I hope you know that you were and are more than a phenomenal quarterback. You are an inspiration and balm to those suffering any kind of pain, in my case emotional pain over the death of my mother. And when I lost Wally in 2020, you would be something to look forward to as I dealt with pet grief.

And oh yes, I too am from the Bay Area. I once yelled out to Joe Montana, who looked up and beamed at me as his float strode by S. of Market, after the '9ers won the Superbowl in 1984. I know what a fan of Montana you are. Not only are you brilliant yourself, but you recognize brilliance in others. You do have a passionate way about you, but you have remained classy and sporty your entire career. Your friendship with Gronk, especially, is one of legend and I know just how much he will miss you.

Thank you for everything, Tom. And when I tell you to enjoy your family, I hope you pay special attention to your loving mother. Those moments with our moms are irreplaceable. I am glad you have graced this Earth, Tom Brady.

6 p.m. update 1/29/22: Just heard he hasn't made up his mind about retirement! Oh, don't do this to me! 2-1: Sadly, Tom just formally announced his retirement on Instagram.