What a moment this was. The grace. The pride. The humility. The outpouring of appreciation of excellence from a grateful public. Peyton Manning was good too. But Tom Brady stole the show. Just like he had so many times in their head-to-head meetings, the moment belonged to Brady.
I mean, just look at this reaction:
Ear-to-ear, baby. His hair perfectly on point. The very picture of youth. Enjoying the sweet symphony of that chorus of boos like it was composed by a Mozart or a Beethoven or a Hasselhoff. No protein and electrolytes-rich kale smoothie ever went down this smooth. In this moment, he's the living embodiment of the line from The Dark Knight that says you either die a hero or live long enough to see yourself become the villain. He didn't die the hero, he became the villain, and still refuses to die. And he accepts Manning's invitation to be there so he can be the handsome, DILFy turd in the Manning stans' punchbowl. And here he is, enjoying the spoils of his many wars.
What did you do, Tom? Like I said going into the weekend:
… you did this:
But he knows that. And that shit-eating grin is just him being coy. Waving those perfectly aligned, pure white teeth in everybody's face like his smile is the biggest, swingingest dong in the prison shower. Announcing that he's the apex predator in this ecosystem, not the guy in the gold jacket.
And lastly, this is moment is confirmation of something Brady himself said about seven years ago. Remember during Deflategate, when those ambulance chasing, anti-science Flat Earthers investigating him got their grubby little sausage fingers on all his emails? And they turned up not a single word about the air in footballs or anything remotely scandalous? And the only non-troversy they could latch onto was Brady telling somebody he'll keep playing deep into his 40s and Manning has only a couple of years left? Well in college the taught us how to add. It's 2021 and Manning is enshrined in Canton, while Brady is still adding to his already incomparable legacy and terrorizing the populace who can't help but boo at the mere mention of his name like a pack of Pavlov's dogs. And nobody, but nobody, is happier about it than the one, true GOAT.
Keep booing, dummies. You're just digging your own graves deeper. Kiss the rings.