The Patriots have announced that Tedy Bruschi will not be returning to the team this season, in response to an NECN report that he is "90 percent certain" to be coming back.
This just goes to show what happens when a journalism outfit runs with something without verifying the information. Now it feels to some like Tedy or the team have jerked them around, when really, NECN did.
Nick Cafardo is especially maudlin when it comes to the circumstances of the announcement --
It's too bad we couldn't hear it from Bruschi rather than a statement from the team spokesman or an ambiguous quote from the head coach.
It's such a big story, such big news concerning a beloved player.
It was a story that needed a far more personal touch. The same touch that Bruschi gave to millions of Patriots fans, whose e-mails have flowed to this reporter since Feb. 16, the night Bruschi was rushed to the hospital and diagnosed with a stroke.
The fucking hell it did, Nick. To suggest that Bruschi owes any Patriots fan anything is to be so completely obtuse I can't really put it into words.
Throughout the Tedy-drama there seems to have been a distinct aura of entitlement among New England fans and press, and even a whiff of objectification at times, always justified with that "New England fans are the most caring, passionate..."
I don't care if we're all Mother Theresa in Starter gear, it doesn't mean we deserve or are entitled to personal information about Tedy Bruschi, his health, or his career decisions. He is a performer. We are his audience. We don't get a say.
On the one hand, it's nice for fans to have shown concern after Tedy's stroke. But there were also reports of people (reporters, mostly) camping out near Tedy's home, not something any family needs (or has to go through) in the midst of a crisis. Are these the same people who "deserve" a personal statement from Tedy?
Here's the personal statement he's given us: his blood, sweat and tears for ten NFL seasons on the field. His personality, "Full Tilt, Full Time." His dancing in the snow on our way to the Super Bowl. His smiling face at press conferences and on newspaper pages, holding up the third trophy. Tedy's given us someone to admire and respect, a human symbol for the team we've come to love. Everyone knows he'd continue giving that to us if he could. But he can't. If he could be back, he would, but he won't be, so he can't. No one seems to doubt that.
What I fail to understand is the way some people seem to think it's his job to help us deal with it.