While never possessing any skills of my own, I've heard time and time again how they tend to diminish. And, when they do, it's a rapid decent. After watching that massacre in Arrowhead Stadium last night, it seems that time has come for the beloved leader of Patriot Nation: Tom Brady.
Thanks for the Championship memories, Tom. You've given an entire fan base the greatest gift we could ask for: a championship dynasty. Not only did you have one of the greatest careers in NFL history, your winning pedigree gifted surrounding players and coaches alike opportunities -- along with contracts -- they would have never secured otherwise.
And your assist legacy doesn't end there.
Women in bars across America felt such a tingle in their collective pink parts watching you play, they would turn to the closest Patriot-hat-wearing-man-with-scruff in their proximity for immediate gratification. And we're not talking about plain Janes here, Mr. Brady. We're talking about girls as intimidatingly beautiful as your offensive output was in 2007. I mean, let's face it, an entire generation of boys and girls in the New England area named Brady have you to thank: both for their name and the preceding 9-month "opportunity" to provide said name.
[SIDE NOTE: START]
Trust me. I wouldn't have met my wife without your help. She still has me wear the hat in bed while calling me "Tom" on occasion.
True story.
[SIDE NOTE: END]
All in all, it was an epic run, Tom. But your time has passed.
Just ask Derek Jeter.
#RET12E
