Our fate lies not in the stars...

TALES FROM THE TAILGATE
Jets 10, Patriots 3 (9/23/'01): In just a few days, Tom Brady will step on to the field in Indy to play in his fifth Super Bowl in ten years. I won't be there ($2k for a ticket. Hello couch), but I was there the day he walked on to the field to start what would become one of the greatest careers the NFL has ever seen. Brady is probably the most famous athlete on the planet right now. Not the most popular. But the most famous. It's easy to forget that if it wasn't for a twist of fate, Brady's career -- and my entertainment level as a Pats' fan -- might have been very different this past decade.

September 23rd, 2001. Just twelve days after everyone awoke to the news and images that are still hard to believe. The NFL -- after a week gone dark -- decided it was time to get back to the business of entertaining the masses. Me, Mark, Shep, and Bergs gathered in the dirt that was the old Foxboro Stadium parking lot in the shadow of the skeleton of what would become Gillette. Mark worked in Manhattan and was not far from the towers that day. He had to make his way through the new heightened security on Amtrak, meaning no containers full of pulled pork or any other marinated meat. We sat in near 70 degree weather and did what we always do... talked football to forget about everything else.

There wasn't too much to be optimistic about on that afternoon other than the weather. The world had been turned upside down. W. was president. And the Pats were 0-1. It was very early in the team's second season under Bill Belichick. The Pats went 5-11 in his first year and looked very mediocre, prompting Bergs to repeat that he thought giving up a first-round pick to the Jets to pry him free was a bad idea. It would be the last day he would say it. Drew Bledsoe was the starting QB and the face of the franchise. Although we were Drew admirers, we all felt that he had regressed so badly under Pete Carroll that he was painful to watch. Sure, we were getting a new stadium to replace the concrete toilet bowl, but all we knew about that was our ticket prices were sure to rise.

The game was preceded by a moving tribute to those who were lost that day in Manhattan and elsewhere and the emergency workers who tried to save them. Pats lineman Joe Andruzzi had three bothers in the New York fire department and he ran out of the tunnel waving two American flags and joined them at midfield for the national anthem. The crowd formed one, powerful voice in song. I'm not big on patriotic displays at sporting events. Fourth of July on the Esplanade? Sure. But a football game? Play the national anthem but spare me Lee Greenwood's "God Bless the USA." It's a football game, I don't care if you are proud to be an American. I felt very differently that afternoon.

The emotions of the day were soon channeled to football and a very hard-hitting game. The Patriots' defense -- with guys like Law, Milloy, Bruschi, Johnson, and McGinnest -- was starting to reach its potential and held Curtis Martin and the Jets' offense in check. Unfortunately, Bledsoe and the Pats offense seemed to be reaching its potential too. Its potential to be bad. With just more than five minutes left in the game, the Jets held a 10-3 lead. The Pats' offense had the ball just inside its own 20-yard line. We were finishing our last beers and hoping Bledsoe would find a little of the magic he had a few years earlier. Bledsoe dropped back to pass. He got forced out of the pocket and lumbered -- he couldn't run -- towards the far sideline. He got close to the first down marker and instead of running out of bounds Bledsoe, as tough as they come, decided to turn his shoulder and try to get that extra yard for the first down. Jets linebacker Mo Lewis was between Bledsoe and the marker.

Bledsoe was about as far away from my seat in Section 309 as he could get. I could still feel the hit. Lewis lowered his right shoulder and smashed Bledsoe in his left side. It looked like Bledsoe had run into a concrete wall at full speed. The entire stadium winced. Bledsoe went down hard. He didn't get the first down. He didn't get up for a few minutes either. The crowd stood silent again. Finally Bledsoe got to his feet as the trainers checked him out. Even from a distance you could see he was shaky. There was some confusion on the sideline. Tom Brady -- #12 -- had put his helmet on but it looked like Bledsoe might come back into the game. There was a brief discussion and then Brady walked towards the huddle and Bledsoe turned and walked the other way.

There wasn't a roar for Brady. Even those of us who thought it might be time for Bledsoe to go didn't want to see it end this way. But end it did. Brady took the next snap and -- except for 2008 when he got his knee ripped up -- he has taken every meaningful snap since. Brady went a mere 5-for-10 for 46 yards as he tried to drive the Pats to a tying touchdown. The game came to an anticlimactic finish when his Hail Mary pass was harmlessly batted to the ground. We sat in the parking lot as the sun set talking about the day. What if Bledsoe can't come back? Is that a good thing? Can Brady -- the kid from Michigan -- be a decent NFL quarterback?

The next weekend the Pats hosted the undefeated Colts. By that time everyone knew that Bledsoe had suffered a serious injury and that the young quarterback would be leading the 0-2 team for the next few weeks. The Pats stomped on the Colts that day 44-13. Brady didn't throw a touchdown and had just 168 yards passing, a number he sometimes breaks in a quarter these days. But he brought an energy to the team that was noticeable. He may have been a second-year player among a group of veterans, but he was clearly a leader.

Since then he has led the franchise to three championships and several very near misses for Lombardi number four. He gets another shot at it Sunday. He is, for me, the greatest Boston athlete in my sports-watching lifetime. I was too young to appreciate Russell or Williams but I grew up on Orr, Cowens, Yaz and have marvelled at Bourque, Bird, Clemens, Neely, Bledsoe, Pedro, Ortiz, and Rice. Brady tops them all mostly because he delivered what I never thought possible. Super Bowl parades.

But it isn't just that he led the Pats to three championships. It was the way he did it. He was Bourque, Bird, Neely, Ortiz -- and a lot of Terry O'Reilly -- all in one. He is simply one of the all-time greatest sports stories. Don't let his posing with goats or hiding from the paparazzi make you forget just how amazing his career with the Patriots has been

Drafted in the -- everyone -- sixth round in 2000, Brady was an interesting mix of raw talent and, as Kramer would say, unbridled enthusiasm. He had some great games at Michigan so he wasn't quite an unknown. But he was no Peyton Manning. He wasn't taken with the first pick and he wasn't able to dictate which team he would play for. I like Manning. He's a regular guy. His commercials are often very funny. Oh, and he's one of the best QBs to ever play the game. I've grown to enjoy watching him (when not playing the Pats) because he almost always does something impossible to turn a sure loss into a victory. Manning carried the Colts on his back by almost sheer will before he hurt his neck. I get why he is loved.

I don't get why Brady is not. I know, I know. Giselle. Cover boy. UGGs. The West Coast mansion. The hair. Bridget and the baby. That's the other side of Brady. Brady the football player hasn't changed from the moment when he was headbutting Bledsoe before the Super Bowl in New Orleans. He may be a reluctant celebrity, but he still looks driven to me. He still plays like he is trying to earn his starting spot. He still plays the game the way it should be played. All out. Manning was the sure thing. Brady was the underdog. Manning started out as NFL royalty. Brady started out as NFL working class. Today they are both future Hall of Famers. Who'd a thunk it back in 2001.

Brady joined a team that had a strong nucleus of veteran leaders. Some -- like Brian Cox and Roman Phifer -- were former Parcells/Belichick guys who were brought in to bring attitude. Others -- like Law, Milloy, Bruschi, McGinnest, Johnson, Brown -- were part of the '96 team that went to the Super Bowl and were entering the peak years of their careers. Brady quickly fit in with that group and almost always played with the poise of a veteran. It was a perfect marriage. Now all those veterans are gone. All of them. Brady is the link between what is quickly becoming the distant past and what is now the future.

Brady has made the transition into the second phase of his career ... the veteran quarterback. Not every player can do it. But Brady had good teachers in all those retired Patriots who are now on almost every football program there is. (How much does that drive the rest of the NFL-loving country crazy?)

Will Brady have as much success in this phase of his career (which he says he hopes will last several more years)? Belichick certainly has the Pats poised to compete for the title for the next few years. Ten years after the first title the Pats have gone 27-5 the last two seasons. A win Sunday could set the stage for another dynasty. You never know what fate holds.

Thank you Mo Lewis.

Don't let the door hit you

As Dorothy said in "The Wizard of Oz"... My, people come and go so quickly here.

My dream defensive line of Big Vince, Ty Warren, and Phat Albert -- which I predicted could be the best in the league for years (ha) -- lasted less than 24 hours. Warren was cut yesterday before he ever got to meet Mr. Haynesworth.

Warren's release was the biggest surprise among yesterday's list of departures. Others let go were Coach Crump (who might return for less money to continue mentoring the two young tight ends), offensive lineman Nick Kazcur, Tully Banta-Cain, Marcus Stroud, and Tony Carter. Kazcur, Banta-Cain, and Stroud all had injury issues that made them a bad investment salary-cap wise. Warren was also coming off an injury (hip) and also had a fairly high salary-cap price tag, but many (like me) expected the 30-year-old to return to form and help form a monster defensive line.

But he reportedly failed his physical and was sent packing. Another member of the Super Bowl run gone.

That's just one of the many ways the NFL is unlike all the other sports. You rarely see star players still in the prime of their careers just dropped from the team in baseball and basketball. Why? Because, unlike in the NFL, they would still have to pay them. So teams keep them and keep them and keep them... J.D. Drew ring a bell?

Not in the NFL. A player may sign a 5-year, $40 million dollar deal. But if he gets hurt or he falls out of favor with the coaching staff, he can be cut at any time after collecting only a small portion of that $40 million. Of course a small portion of $40 million is still better than most of us will ever see. But if you've already spent most of the $40 million... well, that's how players who sign $40 million contracts end up in a financial mess.

LAWYER: Another case closed.

Patriots fans have gotten used to these sudden departures. The most infamous of course was when Lawyer Milloy was cut right before the start of the '03 season. Milloy was a favorite of Belichick but for some reason -- we'll never really know -- the coach decided he wasn't a good fit for the team anymore. Back-to-back Super Bowl titles proved the coach was right.

But I was sad to see Lawyer go. I remember sitting in my basement watching the '96 draft with Mark. That was the one where the Pats took wide receiver Terry Glenn in the first round against the wishes of Parcells. The first crack in the Tuna-Kraft relationship. As the Pats second-round pick approached Mark looked up from his draft preview magazines and said "I think the Tuna will go for that safety out of the University of Washington. Lawyer Milloy. Great name and Tuna's type of hard-nose player."

"Never heard of him," I mumbled through my mouthful of chips.

A few minutes later, the commissioner stepped to the podium and said "With their second pick in the draft, the New England Patriots take safety Lawyer Milloy from the University of Washington."

Lawyer was a Parcells guy who became a Belichick guy. They had a father-son relationship. One of the best moments from the Pats first Super Bowl win was when the two were caught on tape embracing right after Vinatieri's kick sailed through the uprights.

Lawyer was a great Patriot and his sudden departure shook the team. He was Brady's best friend at the time. Warren leaving is less team-shaking but still a huge loss. He's been one of the team's most underrated players this decade. A rock in the team's foundation.

Now he's gone. Always a class act, he thanked the Pats on his way out.

Who will be shown the door next? It could be anyone. Well, except #12. That day will never come.

Ya. Right.

The Grill-to-Go ... went

TALES FROM THE TAILGATE

Patriots 27, Browns 16 (12/9/'01): "Happy Father's Day!" My daughters Katie (14), Amy (11), and Jenny (9) stood with big smiles around a large present for me. It was by far the largest box I had ever gotten on Father's Day. I had no clue what it could be. We already had a large dog so I ruled that out. I was curious. Upon tearing open the paper with the gleeful help of the girls I saw standing in front of me a Grill-to-Go. A Grill-to-Go! It was the tailgating must-have item and I now had one. Thanks girls!

The Grill-to-Go was a somewhat space-age looking device when folded up -- its rounded, red body a sleek rocket shape. It sure looked ready to go. It was a great replacement for the charcoal and small propane grills that cluttered up all our car trunks. No more bags of charcoal and cans of lighter fluid. Easy to clean. A griddle for making eggs and bacon for the early morning tailgates. It was the hit of the 2001 tailgating season. At least the first three months of it.

Me, Paul, Bergs. and the Grill-to-Go arrived for the Week 13 game against the Browns. The Pats were at 7-5 and starting to ride the Brady wave that would wash them all the way to New Orleans. The wind chill was in the low 20s and there was a threat of snow. We tailgated among the snow banks and dirt piles rising high between the old stadium and the new one under construction. The lot was a mess. When the wind would blow the dirt would cover everything. You could feel it in your teeth. One tailgate Shep left a window open in his car. He was cleaning dirt out for years. To quote Mark: "Welcome to downtown Baghdad, boys."

We set up for the tailgate and I pulled out the Grill-to-Go. It was the first time for Paul. He was impressed. How could you not be? It went together like a dream and heated up quickly and evenly. The only glitch -- just a little one -- was the plastic tank at one end that the grease drained into. It had a little opening like at the top of a water bottle. Somehow you were supposed to get the grease out of there. But if there's one thing grease does, it's solidify quickly upon cooling. So by its seventh week in action the plastic grease tank was filled with old grease. As we sat in our chairs drinking and watching the burgers cook, we noticed the grease tank had caught fire. A small flame rising out of the little opening. I tried to put it out but it just kept burning and burning and burning... "Anything in the instruction manual about it also being used as a torch?" Bergs asked.

We ate and packed up the tailgate to get into the game. I had forgotten to turn the grill off and it was still hot. Too hot to put in the trunk. "How about we put it in the snowbank in front of the car and bury it so no one sees it and steals it," I said to Paul. He agreed with the plan. The Pats beat the Browns in a great battle to improve to 8-5. The highlight of the game was Troy Brown returning a punt 85 yards for a touchdown thanks to big blocks by Lawyer Milloy and Richard Seymour. I can still see the look on the punter's face -- the last man between Brown and the end zone -- as Seymour rumbled towards him to throw the block. One of the best moments of that year. Late in the game the weather turned nasty with a cold, wet snow. As we left the stadium the three of us decided to skip the postgame tailgate and hit the road. Paul and I jumped into my car and made an easy exit.

The next morning I was cleaning the supplies out of my car. Chairs. Table. Cooler. Grill? Where's the Grill-to-Go? Nowhere to be found. I thought back to the pre-game tailgate and an image of me burying the grill in a snowbank flashed before me. I lost the Grill-to-Go. That my three daughters gave me. Ruh roh. I figured I could just go out and buy a new one and they would never know the difference.

Then I heard a voice. "Hey Dad, where's the grill?" It was my always observant daughter Amy. "What happened to the Grill-to-Go?" The scene in the "Grinch" where the Santa imposter conned Cindy Lou Who into thinking he was taking the Christmas tree back to the North Pole to fix it ran through my head. But this turned out to be one of the few times a white lie eluded me. "I left it in a snowbank."

I often wonder if the Grill-to-Go sat in that snowbank till the next day when the snow began to melt and some member of the stadium staff noticed it sticking out. I picture him sitting on his deck at home, beer in hand, smelling his burgers cooking on my Grill-to-Go and watching the eternal flame burn from the plastic grease tank.