The Heel Turn

The rest of the NFL had to cheat to try to stop the Patriots.

Will it work?

I find myself thinking they don’t really care.

It’s all about TV ratings, asses in seats, internet traffic and trending topics on social media. Cash money, homes. That’s what Tom Brady, Bill Belichick and the Patriots bring to the table. Love ‘em or hate ‘em; there are no undecideds, no swing voters, no independents when it comes to the New England Patriots.

I have to admit, I’m struggling with embracing the role of villain, even if it seems as contrived as a pro wrestler’s heel turn. I suppose I’m splitting hairs. Is my desire for a reckoning that conjures medieval metaphors really so different? Good or evil are really just rationalizations that depend on where you live, your credit card debt, your religion, your race and how popular you were in middle school.

Can good guys want revenge? Maybe for the first hour and a half of the movie, but they always come to their senses in the end and re-embrace their humanity, saving the person they’d struggled to destroy for the previous 90 minutes of screen time. We’ve come to expect it. It feels right. I suppose it is right.  

But I just don’t see myself coming to my senses on this one. I don’t just want the Patriots to win the Super Bowl, I want to see them destroy whoever their opponent is. I want the offense to touch 70 points and the defense to pitch a shutout. I want TVs west of the Connecticut River to be turned off in disgust before the 4th quarter starts. I don’t want Tom Brady taking a knee in the final seconds, I want him throwing one more TD pass. After the game, on the victor’s stage, I want Tom to lean in and whisper in Roger Goodell’s ear, “Would you like to check my balls now?”

Maybe I’m getting this villain thing.

I’m not moving on. I’ll never forget and I’ll certainly never forgive.

I see Bill Belichick as Captain Ahab and the rest of the NFL as his great white whale (in the remake he’ll catch and release Moby Dick, answer that he did what he did in the best interests of the team then upgrade his wooden leg to titanium). Tom Brady is Maximus Decimus Meridius and he will have his revenge in this life or the next (in the remake they’ll get Tom to the hospital in time, he’ll recover from his wounds and become Emperor of Rome, er, Commissioner of the NFL, leaving Roger Goodell’s broken body in the dust of the Colosseum). Or maybe Tom’s Bryan Mills and he will use his peculiar skill sets to kill everyone with bullets thrown to Edelman, Gronk, Amendola and Bennett (finally, a movie where the hero survives for a sequel - back-to-back one more time!).

Okay, this revenge stuff is tricky. It tends to end badly. And yet, I still want it.

I want to hear and read pigskin pundits and bobbleheads call out the Patriots for running up the score and Bill Belichick respond with a shrug and a muttered “Jesus Christ.” I want Tom Brady to answer every post-game presser question with one from (a) “I thought everyone really stepped up today/tonight,” (b) “We’ve still got a long way to go,” (c) “I think that’s a question for the league office” or (d) “Your mom said to tell you she never loved you and if you’d ever call she’d tell you herself.”  I want Belichick to find whatever loopholes are left in the NFL Rulebook and make opposing head coaches cry like a 5-year old who just dropped their ice cream on the sidewalk. I want the Other 31 owners to understand the Law of Unintended Consequences like a steel-toed boot to the balls. I want to see the look on Goodell’s face when he hands the Lombardi Trophy to Robert Kraft.

I want Brady, Belichick and the Patriots to want it, too.

If that makes them villains, so be it.