I want to be Tom Brady.
I want a cleft in my chin you can store pistachios in.
I want to be 6-foot-4 and cool as the Anchorage DMV and have eyes so green that when I pass, the angels have to hold on to something.
I want to be Tom Brady and have an Indianapolis policeman invite me to break the law, as happened Monday night.
"I got to drive down a one-way street in the opposite direction to park to go to dinner," he said." I was driving to the restaurant, and the cop saw us and said, 'Just pull right up.' That was the coolest thing."
People, I'm begging here.
It's fashionable to dump on Tom Brady lately. Baltimore Ravens DE Haloti Ngata says Tom Brady whines to refs about being hit. Baltimore's Terrell Suggs calls Brady's three Super Bowl titles "questionable." ESPNNewYork.com's Rich Cimini wrote a column this week headlined, "Tom Brady not as great as advertised."
Not as advertised?
I'd sell my sister to the North Koreans to be at my fifth Super Bowl, tying John Elway's record for QBs. I'd slice off both ears and a pinkie to be on the cusp of tying Joe Montana's and Terry Bradshaw's record of four Super Bowl rings. I'd do a year in Leavenworth to see what my Victoria's Secret supermodel wife might be wearing in the hotel suite afterward if I do.
Not as advertised?
Then why, at least once a year, does he get invited to be the best man at the wedding of a guy he's never heard of?
Why were people literally hanging off his car as he pulled away from St. Elmo Steak House the other night?
Why did the NFLPA want his name first on its lawsuit against the league? Because Tom Brady vs. anybody is usually a lock, that's why.
Let me have Kenny Chesney as a buddy.
Let me have Seal as a neighbor and have him say, "I'm obsessed with Tom Brady," as Brady was reminded this week.
Let me have a $20 million, 22,000-square-foot, eight-bedroom hillside palace in L.A. with a swimming pool so big it looks like a lagoon. I'd practice sailing in it.
And yet I overheard a reporter in Indianapolis this week say, "I wouldn't want his life."
Pal, your life isn't a box full of anemic grub worms compared with Tom Brady's.
Do you go to U2 concerts and have Bono give you a shout-out from the stage? Tom Brady does.
Do you drive a brand-new tricked-out Audi A8 free -- in exchange for doing nothing more than charity work you'd do anyway? Tom Brady does.
Do you attend State of the Union addresses without curing anything, inventing anything or shooting anything? Tom Brady does.
Tom Brady wears ugly boots and starts an American fashion trend.
Tom Brady wears horrid Bieber bangs and people think it's cool.
Tom Brady could go around wearing a Hefty bag and make the cover of GQ, which he's done four times.
Look, I'm not asking much here. I just want what Tom Brady has.
I want a heated toilet seat in my bathroom.
I want to make the Most Interesting Man in the World stutter when I walk into the room.
I want to bring my kids to football games with David Beckham's kids. Then maybe we go back and eat whatever Posh Spice is cooking.
And yet the Jets' Antonio Cromartie once called Brady an "a--hole." A poll last year found him to be the NFL's third most hated player. A reporter asked him the other day how it felt to have had every other Boston pro sports franchise win a title since he last did seven years ago. "Thanks for reminding me," he said.
You want reminders? Here are a few:
Nobody but Tom Brady could take a team with an 11-man colander for a defense to the Super Bowl.
Nobody but Tom Brady could turn a 5-9 shrimp like Wes Welker into the leading wide receiver in the league.
Nobody but Tom Brady could win three rings, give one away to his dad and never wear the other two. But that's him. He's so humble he's almost impossible to compliment.
(If you can't give me the humility thing, I'm fine.)
And yet Rex Ryan once wrote that "every American male hates Tom Brady."
Ask his linemen. So far this season, Tom Brady has bought them all very expensive watches, given them four pairs of Ugg boots and ordered in dinner for them from the best places in town at road games. "A few weeks ago, we got Capitol Grill!" OL Nate Solder says. No wonder he can yell F-bombs on the bench at them and live to tell about it.
Ask the dozens of organizations that get his time. Ask the hundreds of organizations that get checks out of the blue, unasked, especially after disasters.
Ask Patriots owner Bob Kraft, whose late wife, Myra, loved Tom Brady so much she made sure he came with her on her annual visit to the Holy Land in 2005. "He was like our fifth son," Robert Kraft says.
If the Fifth Son wins this Super Bowl, he goes down as one of the five greatest quarterbacks in history. With another one after this, he goes down as the shut-up-and-listen greatest of all time.
There's no point inviting him to your wedding. He's already the best man.
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