My love for Tom Brady has no bounds.
I am not alone in loving this piece of perfection – “R Tommy” (our Tommy for you non-New Englanders), unites “my people”. When I am east it warms my heart to see grown men wearing #12 shirts in the grocery store, and it is exhilarating to hear the screaming passion for this phenomenon on Boston talk radio – he brings us together. I am a New Englander through and through and I would seriously consider moving back to Boston to be with my fellow fans if it weren’t for snow, ice and freezing temperatures...but I am one with Tommy lovers everywhere.
I could go on and on and on about his skills, his RINGS, and how he is the poster child for devotion, passion, and commitment - but let’s cut to the chase, Tom is beautiful. Honestly, New Englanders could care less if he was hot or not – trust me, the irony is not lost that we have one of the most beautiful men on the planet as our QB - in southern Cal where I live, people care about that sort of thing, New England not so much…. but we got him and he is stunning and this is yet another reason I love him so…and love is joyous!
I love our team; they have and will continue to serve us well. Even though this season didn’t go exactly according to plan, the love is still there. There is love for the many, many earnest young men who kicked the heck out of that ball, and for the buff-built-like-brick-house-heroes who sacrificed their bodies to give Tom an extra second in the pocket, and for the players who dove head first into a wall of men as they tried to bring that ball over the end zone. There is love for our grumpy coach who takes scissors to really expensive clothing and of course to our owner who loves love - hopefully legally.
So, haters – take your deflate gate conspiracy theories, take your cries of “cheaters”, take your jealously over his Hollywood hair, his supermodel wife, and stow it. As my wise little friend Lucy wrote, “Love is love”, nothing can dent that armor.