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By BostonMac, Section NFL
By Ryan McGowan Let's flash back around eleven years, to 1993. The Patriots, in their first year under Bill Parcells and Drew Bledsoe, finished 5-11, seven games behind the Buffalo Bills. The Red Sox finished 80-82, fifteen games behind the Blue Jays. The Celtics were eliminated by the Charlotte Hornets in four games, and Reggie Lewis died shortly thereafter. Only the Bruins were able to salvage some respectability, with a first place finish in the then-Adams Division. It wasn't the best of times for Boston sports.
Meanwhile, down in the supposedly invincible New York, the Big Apple, the city to which residents so arrogantly and rather provincially call "the city", the fortunes of the local teams are looking about as good as Tara Reid after an all-night coke bender. The Yanks just pulled off the most complete choke job in the history of sports. The Mets are full of overpriced, selfish mercenaries. The Rangers and Islanders sit idly. The Knicks just got obliterated in MSG to your Boston Celtics. And the Jets and Giants, two teams that a month ago looked like they could be contenders this year, are now fading faster than my roommate Scott's hairline. Welcome to 2004, the Bizarro World of Boston sports, where suddenly up is down, left is right, freedom is slavery, war is peace, and ignorance is strength. But an Orwellian nightmare world this is not, especially when it is countered with the sudden change in fortune of our friendly neighbors to the south. The state of Boston sports today is like the Seinfeld episode where Elaine gets fired from her job and becomes a loser, while George hits it big, prompting a role reversal between the two ("Oh my God! I've become George!"). It occurred to me the other night who is playing the role of Elaine in this episode: Drew Bledsoe. The same Drew Bledsoe who was an integral part of the revitalization of the Patriots franchise from the ugly stepsister/running joke of the NFL to the near-dynasty powerhouse that plays in Foxboro today. The same #11 who wowed us all with his courage and toughness, playing with a splint in his broken finger against the Bills and Miami in `98, blocking out the pain and seemingly willing the Patriots to victory. The same quarterback who, when the chips were down against Pittsburgh in the AFC title game in 2001, put aside his hurt personal feelings from his benching and played brilliantly against the Steelers, leading the Pats into Super Bowl XXXVI against the Rams. Yes... this is the guy who has become the Elaine-style loser in the Boston Sports Bizarro World of 2004. Bledsoe took a lot of criticism while he was here, and much of it was deserved. He was admittedly very limited as a quarterback, and any offense with him leading it had to be designed very carefully to take advantage of his incredibly strong arm but minimize his limitations of weak mobility and often suspect decision-making. He was the quarterback of some bad and some painfully mediocre teams (1993, 1995, 1999, and 2000 come to mind). He also had the bad fortune (or good fortune, for the Pats and their fans) to be replaced by one of the most charismatic, confident, and competent athletes ever to play on the Boston sports scene, Tom Brady (someone who, on a side note, might actually have personal experience with a Tara Reid coke binge). In 2001, Bledsoe watched from the sidelines wearing a headset while Brady rattled off win after win, pulling the Patriots into a first-round bye and the eventual Snow Game win over Oakland. He was always a team player, always put aside his personal feelings of hurt for the good of the team. In that sense, he embodied everything that Bill Belichick values in his players. The only problem was, his talents had run out. He gave the Patriots everything he had, and in the end, it wasn't enough. He came to New England with such promise, riding along with Bill Parcells and Bob Kraft on a white horse, saviors of the franchise, determined not to let the team sink into oblivion. (Or, as Mike Tyson would say, into Bolivian.) Pats fans basically grew up with him, as the team morphed from a 1-15 humiliation to 1996 AFC champs who gave the mighty Green Bay Packers all they could handle in the big game. We wanted Drew to win it for us, but we also wanted it for him. He was a likeable guy, a quality human being who always worked hard, played hard, and never complained, even when the press and fans alike wanted to tar and feather him after a crucial interception, fumble, or coverage sack. When he was traded to Buffalo in 2002, the divorce was inevitable. The fans knew it, and Drew knew it. He had taken the Patriots as far as he could, and it was time for a change. It was a healthy, mutual parting, with Bledsoe taking out a full-page ad in the local papers thanking the local papers for their support. Bledsoe had his supporters, sure, but in the end the choice was an easy one for Belichick; he had to stick with Brady, the young, gunslinging Super Bowl MVP. The fans had no animosity. We wished him the best in Buffalo... except when he was playing against New England, of course. That is why it is increasingly harder and harder to watch Drew in Buffalo. In 2002, I was living in North Carolina, and I used to go to this Boston-themed sports bar called the Fenway Bar and Grill to watch the Pats games with other transplanted New Englanders. We would watch the Pats games and whatever other games were on, but we paid close attention to the Buffalo games, where Bledsoe was putting up big numbers. We never thought that he should have been kept ahead of Brady, but there was something kind of soothing about watching a guy that you rooted for all those years experience success, even if it wasn't for your team. Because Drew Bledsoe is an easy guy to root for. All those years in New England, we wanted to see him succeed, and we wanted him to be the one to bring the Vince Lombardi trophy to Foxboro. It didn't happen, of course. Wasn't meant to be. It wasn't the way any of us would have written the script back in 1993, but I'm sure none of us would have changed the way it happened for anything. We never wanted to wish ill will on Drew, but it is obvious now that he has lost his fastball. We watched him on Sunday night serve up interceptions like John Wasdin throwing a changeup to Barry Bonds. He even got picked off by TROY BROWN, his former go-to receiver. It was uglier than an offspring of Bud Selig and Jim's grandmother from American Wedding. For someone who spent roughly nine years of his life rooting for Drew, it was embarrassing to see how far he has fallen. It is unfortunate that sports fans too often have a "zero-sum mentality" when it comes to many issues. Football is more popular, so baseball sucks. Schilling is better, so Pedro is awful. Brady is great, so Bledsoe is terrible. This mentality clouds a lot of our judgments and memories. Bledsoe is a mere shell of his former self, but that doesn't mean that he didn't do great things here. He didn't take us to a championship, no, but neither did 90% of the athletes who have played in this town. It doesn't necessarily diminish their accomplishments at all -- it just raises the accomplishments of the select few that managed to win it all and separated themselves from the pack. So in this Bizarro Boston Sports World of 2004, it is Drew Bledsoe who finds himself characterized as the Elaine-style loser in the game of life. Fair? Maybe, maybe not. But it is the reality of life in the sports world, where on any given day the world can turn upside down, the Sox can win the World Series, dogs and cats can live together, the Yankees can be chokers, a Massachusetts liberal can become President... Oh wait, scratch that last one.
Some things are just too wacky to come true. This is after all the Bizarro World, not Fantasy Land. Story writing contestLog in or create an account to vote for this story!
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