This story was inspired by the New England Patriots' Super Bowl season and everything that went down on the way to the big game. I started to wonder how Drew Bledsoe really felt about being passed over for Tom Brady. Acting like a gentleman makes for great PR but lousy fiction . So I decided to write my own version of the story.
Brady and Bledsoe (1/4) by Boston Beth
A/N: This takes place right after the Super Bowl victory and right before the victory parade. Parts One & Two are the character set-up, part three is the conflict and part four is the payoff. So the sex will be in part four. I do hope you'll stay for 1-3, I'm just giving a heads-up to those looking for the good parts.
THE USUAL DISCLAIMER: Although this was inspired by real events, the following story is complete fiction. I do not work for the NFL, Buffalo Bills, or New England Patriots. The true sexual orientations of Drew Bledsoe and Tom Brady are not known to me. I don't own them and I don't want to (although I can tell you every other woman where I work wants to own Tom). I am not being financially compensated for this.
DREW'S POV:
When I was growing up, my father always gave me advice. It was wrapped up in clich‚s but valuable nonetheless. Drew, he said, masculinity isn't always measured by how hard you toss the ball or how much you build up your body. A real man knows how to handle life with the same skill and grace as if he were playing on the field. I was reminded to treat everyone with respect and not to let anyone prevent me from doing my very best. Most importantly, he told me to be calm and clear-headed when things don't go your way.
No one likes an inflexible man, he said. Life isn't always positive. There will be letdowns, disappointments, and surprises. According to my wise father, I had to run with them like a receiver runs with the ball-he barrels through the opposition and ends with victory. Every problem I overcame would make me stronger and sharper, he promised. When I could deal with adversity with confidence and strength, that is when I could truly call myself a man.
Guess what, Gipper. I don't think I'm much of a man.
Everything that happened to me this year sucked. I deserved none of it. Getting hurt was beyond my control and I am lucky to be alive, don't get me wrong at all. I'm thankful for that every day of my life. Being face to face with death is enough to frighten Hercules. But being passed over for the quarterback position-MY position-was the final blow. I'm here to tell you that despite what you read in the papers, I was damn upset with the decision. It wasn't fair. I was the starter and it should have stayed that way. For eight years I played with the most intensity, determination and focus as I could. Even when we had horrible win-loss records, I played like we won the Super Bowl every year. And how do I get rewarded? They choose Tom Brady to start. For all intents and purposes, a freaking rookie. And he played like a superstar. I could see that-I spent enough time on the bench to pay attention. He was good, damn good. I could also see that my days with the Patriots were numbered.
Funny, isn't it. I used to be the big shot. Everyone thought I was one of the top quarterbacks in the NFL. Then after Brady hit it big, I heard the whispers. People were too afraid to tell me anything to my face. I didn't have what it took anymore. I was never that good anyway. No one mentions any of my contributions to the team. It's all about how Brady helped them (yeah, I don't consider myself a part of the Pats anymore) to their very first Super Bowl. I'm getting a ring too, but it would be a lot sweeter if I felt like I contributed something to the game. So now, I'm either a washed up bum or I'm forgotten. I wonder which is worse.
Are you shocked to hear me talk this way? I bet you are. You all thought I was taking this so well. I can hear you saying that all I am is a selfish, bitter man. Maybe I have no right to be. I know things happen in sports. I just can't help but feel I was mistreated. Maybe what Dad said was right. Maybe somewhere in the recesses of my mind, I'm jealous of Tom. I guess in the midst of my anger I can remember how exciting it was for me to start for a pro team. Really, I have nothing against Tom. He's always been nice towards me. I don't know why I've been acting very cold towards him lately. Am I so self-involved that I've lost all of my good sense? It's not his fault Belichek went with him. It's not like he was out to get me. This isn't All About Eve. I have no right to be so cruel. I like him, really. I just want the best for him.
I just want him.
Oh man, do I want him. Who wouldn't? He's so gorgeous he would make the devil have a change of heart and believe in the power of angels. I decided this while I was sidelined. The only advantage to being benched was having a lot of time to check out his beautiful body. Just staring at that ass was enough to make me assume a permanent cross- legged position. Sometimes when we talked after a game and he got all excited and he would give that smile.it could be the coldest day in Foxboro and I would want to melt. I'd like to take my tongue and rest it in that cleft on his chin. That's the hottest part of him. Slide it in, move it around a little and see those blue eyes light up and hear him moan.
So now you know the truth. I'm in love with Tom Brady. But I'm not saying a word to anyone about it.
Furthermore, I've come to a decision. It's time to let Tom bask in some glory. Soon there'll be the victory parade in Boston. I'm not going, no matter how much anyone begs me to attend. Let's face it, New England deserves to see some winners. The last thing the fans want is some has-been hanging around. And the last thing Tom needs is a has-been lusting after him.
NEXT UP: How Tom feels about the victory and about Drew. Good words and helpful suggestions are welcome at writeongirl77@yahoo.com. Flames will go the way of the Titanic.