All Other Super Bowl Week Storylines Pale in Comparison to Terrell Williams' Returning to the Patriots, Cancer Free

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Super Bowl Week is, far more often than not, a futile exercise. Literally thousands of Journos descending upon the same radius of city blocks in search of a story. Not THE story. Any story. With visions dancing in their heads of of Turner Classic Movies with guys in hats bursting through the boss' door yelling, "Stop the presses, Chief! I gotta story that's gonna knock this town on its ear!" and spinning newspapers splashed with 74-point headlines above the fold. Some hook that will turn a championship football game into the biggest breaking news since … last Super Bowl week. 

Well they can all save themselves the time and effort looking, and spend more time hitting the buffet in the media workroom and at the media party I went to at Super Bowl XLIX where The Outfield performed and I saw John Clayton and either Kid or Play from Kid & Play. (There was an open bar and transportation was provided, so I forget which one it was.) Because the only story that counts this week walked off AirKraft One yesterday:

I mean no disrespect to Patriots interim defensive coordinator Zak Kuhr, who like I said last week has done a heroic job filling in. The data shows how the unit he coaches has gotten better as the season's gone on:

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But the impact of Terrell Williams' return cannot be overstated. From a strategic, Xs & 0s perspective, to be sure. But the emotional boost of having him back after all he went through in 2025 is immeasurable:

Source -  Terrell Williams is sitting in his Gillette Stadium office late Friday afternoon, less than 48 hours before the Patriots are scheduled to fly to the Bay Area for Super Bowl LX.

A replay of a recent Seahawks game is paused on a TV mounted on a nearby wall. Papers are scattered on his dark, L-shaped desk positioned on the opposite side of the room. Twenty minutes ago, Williams moved out from behind his desk to settle into one of three large chairs positioned closer to the door, and recount his last four months as the Patriots defensive coordinator; a time when he didn’t call one play or run a single practice.

Mike Vrabel‘s name comes up.

“I know (Vrabel)’s up for these awards,” Williams says, “but when people talk about Coach of the Year …”

The 51-year-old coach pauses. A tear wells in his left eye. Williams removes his glasses, and lets the tear fall.

“It’s so much more than wins and losses,” he says, his voice quivering. “Trust me.”

Williams wipes both eyes, gratitude bubbling over. He pauses again, this time to find the words that capture what’s stirring in his heart.

“What he did for me,” Williams says, “that’s the Coach of the Year.” …

Five rounds of chemotherapy treatments and a month-long regimen of medications eliminated all cancer from his body after it was discovered during an urgent care visit for flu-like symptoms on Sept. 8.  … If the Patriots win, he may need to choose between parading on duck boats and taking drugs that will ravage his body one more time. If so, Williams plans to pick the drugs.

               

He wants this return to normalcy, to the life he knows and loves, to last.

For himself, his family and team.

“When you go through (cancer), you realize it’s not just you going through it,” Williams says. “Everybody that cares about you is going through it with you.”

This may sound trite and superficial, though I don't mean it to be. Williams is a real person who's been dealing with one of the most frightening things a human being can go through. But this story is like something out of fiction. A Disney movie or one of those inspirational YA sports books aimed at school-aged boys. He almost had his life taken away from him. In large part, he had the thing he's dedicated his professional life to taken away from him. That would be hard on any one with a passion for their work. But especially so for a football lifer like Williams.

Ask anyone who's been around this sport most of their life, and they'll tell you how hard it is to not be doing football things during football season. It's the Kenny Chesney song "Boys of Fall" come to life. I remember another Patriots defensive coordinator making that very point. Matt Patricia had a great designing submarines and whatnot. He was making more than both his parents, who are career educators. But when summer turned to autumn, he couldn't stand being away from coaching. Williams had to step away just as the season was getting underway in order to fight for his survival. And he won the battle. 

This is sacrilege for a Notre Dame fan to say, but this is so much better than any Gipper story. Because the man the team spent all season supporting and honoring, has come back just as their improbable Super Bowl journey is reaching its peak. In his office breaking down film, in the meetings going over what he's learned about the Sehawks' offense, giving everyone at the team facility at Stanford extra motivation they don't need, but have anyway. 

As the man says, Vrabel deserves Coach of the Year. That's not even up for debate. But right now I'm seeing a world where Sunday night Terrell Williams is standing in the locker room, being handed a game ball. I'm getting ahead of myself, I know. But that would be the perfect ending to a perfect season for all of us. Make it so.