Tom Brady had a grace that helped everyone around him forget he was the greatest player of all time. And that is, in part, what makes him just that.
The idea of recounting Tom Brady’s accolades is tiresome — not because the retired New England Patriots and Tampa Bay Buccaneers quarterback doesn’t deserve it, but because if you’re reading this article, you already know what he’s accomplished.
Very simply: He’s accomplished more than any NFL player — ever. He’s not just one of the greatest quarterbacks or NFL players of all time. He might just be one of the greatest professional athletes of all time, up there with Michael Jordan, Serena Williams and Wayne Gretzky. Brady is, in a way, a total genius at his particular craft.
But, again, you know this.
My unique insight will be to take you inside my very brief locker room conversations with Brady during the end of his Patriots career when he acted with professionalism, respect and, often, helpfulness.
Every year, I took the opportunity to draw up a feature story on Brady, with hopes of unearthing something new about the man whose story had been told so many times. I dove into his ability to change the career trajectories of those around him, his bizarre brand of trash talk, his genuine-but-surprising introductions and his preposterous preparations for Super Bowl LI, among many other topics,
For each piece, I needed Brady’s perspective for each story. Brady held two weekly press conferences at Gillette Stadium when he was a Patriot but that was generally the only time a reporter could speak with him: one during the week and one on Sunday after the game. I knew, however, that if I asked him at a press conference, I might lose my exclusive idea to countless other reporters where my question and his answer would become public information. TV shows could air the answer. Fellow beat reporters could write about it. And then my story concept would die from dilution.
So to get my exclusive interview, I would wait in the locker room — this was before the pandemic when there was locker room access — to see if I could pull him aside for a few questions. He had no reason to chat with me — no reason to oblige me. There were countless reporters on the beat with close relationships with him. And whenever I asked him, he had just finished meeting with the media for 5 to 20 minutes during the press conference in which reporters peppered him with questions. He might have been between a grueling practice session and an even more harrowing 1-on-1 meeting with Bill Belichick. Still, when I asked for his time, he wouldn’t suggest that I should have asked my question during the press conference, as so many players did when reporters tried to get an exclusive interview. He wouldn’t brush me off. He’d give me his time for a few questions.
It’s a small gesture, no doubt. But not all superstars make it so easy. Some make it extremely difficult. Brady is the superstar of all superstars in the NFL. And those small gestures added up throughout his career, where everyone needed some of his time — all the time.
So I’d walk with him through the locker room, past teammates and over Patriots logos. Sometimes we’d end up at his locker, where he’d shed his Under Armour cleats, covered in tape. Sometimes we’d end up at the door to the cafeteria — and, yes, the Patriots’ dining establishment has that generic cafeteria smell — where he could make a quick escape to avoid getting roped into more exclusive interviews.
But he’d give me those exclusive quotes that reporters cherish. He would smile. He would remain patient. And even when he didn’t seem particularly interested in following my line of questioning — including a feature that credited Belichick for using the locker next to Brady to help invigorate or reinvigorate the careers of countless players (at a time where Brady didn’t seem interested in giving Belichick credit) — the quarterback would provide an answer that, in one way or another, helped the story.
Brady didn’t have to take care of the media after all his success in New England. He didn’t have to help a reporter like me, a face he didn’t recognize. But he had a way of taking everyone seriously, from staffers to coaches to teammates to reporters. He had a grace that helped everyone around him forget he was the greatest player of all time. And that was, in part, what made him just that.
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