FOXBOROUGH, Mass. -- They stood on opposite ends of the field in the rain, both familiar in their actions -- Bill Belichick with his arms folded and surveying his team, Tom Brady throwing a football with precision.
There were so many records and memories and words said and unsaid between them. And yet, there was also nothing. No wave, as far as the public could see. No hug. No acknowledgement from the greatest coach of all time to the greatest quarterback of all time, or vice versa, before they were set to face off for the first and likely only time.
The Patriots' owner, Robert Kraft? That was different. He saw Brady in the bowels of the stadium well before kickoff, and with cameras rolling, gave his former quarterback a two-armed hug and pat on the back of the head. While the owner backed his coach in drawing a contractual line in 2019 that set the stage for Brady to leave, few wondered if they would talk. They are friends, virtual family members. Kraft texted Brady after his Buccaneers won the NFC Championship Game in January.
Belichick, though: That's what everyone wanted to see. What would be their interaction, if any?
In the two weeks leading up to the game of the year, Brady and Belichick seemed to be speaking from the same complimentary playbook -- even if Brady has said that 90% of what he says in front of the press is untrue -- but at least on Brady's side, the tone was different. There were some mild but noteworthy tweaks: Tom Brady Sr. telling NBC Sports Boston "damn right" that his son felt vindicated after winning a Super Bowl; Alex Guerrero, Brady's body coach and business partner to whom Belichick once curtailed access to the team, opining to the Boston Herald that Belichick "never evolved" to account for Brady's unprecedented career, treating a man in his late 30s like a man in his early 20s.
There was a line of thinking among some media that Belichick would approach Brady before the game and give him a hug, perhaps disarming his keyed-up and laser-focused quarterback. When Peyton Manning visited Indianapolis for the first time as a Denver Bronco, the stadium played a video tribute and Manning teared up during warm-ups. On Sunday night there was a video tribute to Brady, but there were no tears. He stood in the tunnel, doing his best to not acknowledge it, except for a quick glance. He was as resolute as ever. The last time he played a game at Foxborough, he ran out of the tunnel toward a sign that read PLEASE STAY TOMMY. Tonight, the signs were different: GOD, FAMILY, BRADY.
Brady wouldn't allow himself a smile. "He was his normal self" all week, Bucs assistant head coach and run game coordinator Harold Goodwin said after the game. "Nothing about the week was different other than the opponent. Everyone already knew it was a big game and we needed to win it."
And then the game started. Both Brady and Mac Jones, the man the Patriots drafted in the first round to be his long-term replacement, struggled to throw in the rain. It was all business. When Brady broke Drew Brees' all-time passing yardage record, it seemed like the officials wanted to stop the game, but instead Brady hustled the Bucs to the line of scrimmage quickly, throwing the ball to an equipment guy and refusing to have it be a fuss. It felt like a game a younger Brady would recognize.
Belichick, meanwhile, seemed to dust off an old playbook. Brady played the role of the superstar quarterback, and Belichick's defenses, with varied fronts and coverages, couldn't stop Tampa but managed to contain it, especially in the red zone. Jones was like the 2001 Brady, throwing mostly safe and fast passes and moving the chains. At halftime, it was 7-6, Patriots.
Late in the third quarter, the Bucs finally finished a drive and went up 13-7. And then, the Patriots do what they always did under Brady: They answered. Offensive coordinator Josh McDaniels dialed up his best drive of the season, and New England took a 14-13 lead with just under 15 minutes left, and later took a 17-16 lead with 4:34 left.
There was a grimace by Belichick, as if he knew too much time was left. And there was Brady: picking the Patriots apart, overcoming a pass interference penalty, using all of the knowledge that Belichick helped him accumulate to get the Bucs into field goal range. On third-and-7, Brady threw deep to another former Patriot, Antonio Brown, who couldn't haul it in in the back of the end zone. They settled for a field goal: 19-17.
Jones moved the Patriots down the field, but his third-down pass to a wide-open receiver was tipped at the line of scrimmage, and Nick Folk's 56-yard field goal attempt went off the upright. The Belichick-Brady Patriots won many games by inches, and there was no other way this game would go. Brady was again in a familiar position: in the victory formation at Gillette Stadium.
"It was very, very special for him," Bucs coach Bruce Arians said later. "He kept it inside all week, and he's probably letting it all out right now."
Everyone flooded the field. Cameras flocked to Brady, as he hugged former teammates and smiled. Would this be it? Would Belichick and Brady finally meet? You had the feeling Belichick won the battle against Brady, holding him to only 22 completions in 43 attempts and 6.25 yards per pass, only one touchdown in four red zone trips, even though he lost the game.
But Brady won his battles too: He was sacked only once, and he didn't turn the ball over. Arians later said that he was frustrated that the game seemed to only be about Brady and Belichick, when it was about two teams playing. Finally, and quickly, Belichick rolled up to Brady. The hug lasted a millisecond, and he said that they'd catch up after the game.
Belichick was gone, leader of an 8-12 team since Brady left, and Brady stood on the field, then jogged off, past all kinds of fans wearing all kinds of versions of Tom Brady jerseys, and pointed his finger to the sky before disappearing into his old home. He handed the game ball to Guerrero. Belichick gave a news conference that lasted a few minutes, comfortable in the awkward silences and brief answers.
Then he surprised almost everyone except Brady: He entered the visitors locker room, and for just over 20 minutes, he and Brady spoke. They walked out together. This was a meeting not for the world; it was for two men. What was said, in Brady's words, was personal. He seemed relieved.
And out of that surprising meeting came this surprising disclosure. Before he left the stadium -- a home that while he played for the Patriots he said he hoped he'd retire playing in -- Brady said, maybe if the chance to sign a one-day deal ever came up, he might retire with the same team that drafted him: "There could be an opportunity to come back here."