Honestly, is there not one sports-related media outlet that has nothing better to do with their time than print breathless minute-by-minute updates on whether or not Tom Brady is wearing a boot on his right foot? Look, I know the man's a big celebrity and he's going to be playing in his fourth Super Bowl next week, but please. First off, I'm fairly sure it's all another Belichick mind game, and Brady's perfectly fine, and secondly, nobody really gives a crap. Is he or isn't he wearing a walking cast? What did he give Gisele, bodega lilies or those ridiculous white posies he was carting to her cool $16.5 million West Village pad? How much was their check for dinner at Butter? I mean, come on, people. Maybe I just fundamentally misunderstand the cult of celebrity and sports that exists in America. I may not be the fondest of Brady (or of his coquettish-nymphette-ice-queen girlfriend) but sheez. Cut 'em a break. You're doing exactly what Belichick wanted you to do, which is try to bamboozle everyone into thinking that Brady was somehow less than 100%, and since you are such gullible and easily manipulated fools, he can pretty much start yanking the marionette strings to make you dance.
As I have said, I don't have that great of a fondness for Brady as a person, but I don't doubt that football is his entire life and he loves it with the consuming passion that has gotten him to the current high status he enjoys. To my horror, I find myself paraphrasing Peter King when I say that, if there was any chance his availability would be in question, he'd be in Foxborough getting it treated, not waltzing around midtown with his panty model. Then again, maybe hot blonde pieces of ass can throw off your concentration (see: Romo, Tony) but not this Brady. He came out of Michigan as a long shot to be a backup, let alone a starter, let alone the massive award-winning sexpot machine he's turned into. As I said, he sometimes creeps me out, but I think it's an insult to what he's done to doubt that he takes his job very, very seriously. So in other words, there is no story here, people. Put down the spyglasses and get a job aside from print voyeurism.
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