Opinion
For Patriots fans, a Trumpian dilemma
By Will Kaback ’20
February 9, 2017
Tags opinion
There was a football game on television last Sunday.
It would be fair to assume that most of the Hamilton community was aware of this fact, and that a majority of those people built on that knowledge and made the conscious decision to view the game, either individually or in a group. Said game was one of the greatest ever played, and whether or not you are a football fan, I think we can all appreciate the age-old narratives of grit, passion and underdoggery that came to fruition on the evening of February 5.
That’s about all the abstract talk I can take. Let me tell you what I really want to say. The New England Patriots are Super Bowl champions for the fifth time in my life. Five times! They capped off their “Deflategate” vengeance tour with the most remarkable comeback in the history of football, going from down 25 points halfway through the third quarter, with a 0.2 percent chance of victory, to a walkoff touchdown in the first ever Super Bowl over- time. Further game analysis is better left to the Sports section, but indulge me once more when I say that Tom Brady and Bill Belichick are now the greatest quarterback-coach tandem of all time, unmatched as individuals and collaborators. I just needed to get that in print.
I’m from New England and a vociferous Boston sports fan. I consider myself to be rational and mild-mannered in most walks of life, but when the Patriots play, I take on a persona that could only be described as a cross between a drunken Casey Affleck and someone who has recently consumed bath salts. I cried in 2008 when the Giants pulled off the upset (ruining a perfect season) and once more in 2012 when they did it again. Then, in 2015, when Malcolm Butler intercepted the Seahawks at the goal line (also known as the Greatest Play in Sports History) for their fourth championship, repeated primal exclamations poleaxed my vocal cord and the tears were purely joyous. I jeered NFL Commissioner Roger Goodell for his bungling of the investigation into the Patriots use of deflated footballs and re- joiced at their ensuing 14-2 regular season after harsh sanctions were levelled against them.
Then Donald Trump won the 2016 election.
The election of Trump, a man I find to be spectacularly unfit for office and at odds with my values, would seem to have little connection to professional football outside any player demonstrations that his candidacy might have provoked. Unfortunately, if you are a Patriots fan, things started to get very murky on November 8. There are 32 teams in the NFL, almost all of which are owned by exorbitantly wealthy white men who certainly have some connection to Trump through business, or even privately backed him. The thing is, outside of a few rare examples, like Buffalo’s (now former) coach Rex Ryan and Chicago quarterback Jay Cutler, the fans didn’t know about it. The Patriots are the outlier.
First, some background. Patriots quarterback Tom Brady has been friends with Trump for many years. Trump has been a longtime supporter of Brady since he won his first Super Bowl in 2002, and the two built a relationship through golf during the early years of Brady’s career. In September of 2015, Trump gave Patriots owner Robert Kraft one of his infamous “Make America Great Again” hats to give to Brady, who put the hat in his locker. Brady never wore the hat (it was displayed for just one day) and has consistently emphasized that his relationship with Trump is just friendly, but a few troubling moments linger. Most notably, he said that it would be “great” if Trump became President. These comments came at the very beginning of Trump’s candidacy, before nearly all of his vitriol was laid bare, but for many, this pseudo-endorsement from Brady is cringeworthy. Although Brady’s wife, Gisele Bündchen, later took to social media to say that neither she nor Brady would be voting for Trump, many, including myself, remain skeptical. That said, it is possible that Brady—famous for his dedi- cation only to football and family—simply paid no attention to the election and didn’t even vote, but it’s hard to escape the buddy- buddy nature of his relationship with Trump.
Next, there is no ambiguity in how Patriots coach Bill Belichick feels about the new President. On the campaign trail, Trump read aloud a letter from Belichick that expressed admiration and sup- port for the campaign. Belichick wrote, “You’ve proved to be the ultimate competitor and fighter. Your leadership is amazing.” Later, the coach would insist his support was about “friendship and loyalty [...] not politics,” but none- theless reaffirmed his endorsement of Trump. The President recently related a rather bizarre story about Belichick approaching him at a Patriots game and hugging, kissing and expressing his love for him, while also calling him “the greatest.” I have lived with that sordid image in my mind ever since.
Finally, Patriots owner Robert Kraft has had the most en- during relationship with Trump. Friends for decades, Kraft and Trump could often be seen on the sidelines of the game Sunday afternoon and in tuxedos at a gala that night. Kraft has been one of the most loyal supporters of Trump throughout the cam- paign, going farther than Brady or Belichick in saying that he not only supports Trump as a friend, but also believes that his policies stand to help America. There are complexities here. Kraft lost his wife in 2011 and says that Trump called him “every week for a year” to monitor his well-being. The two became friends long before either of them could imagine that Trump would one day win the Presidency and polarize the nation in the process. This doesn’t necessarily excuse Kraft’s unwavering sup- port, but perhaps helps to explain it.
Brady, Belichick and Kraft are the nucleus of the Patriots. They are arguably more responsible for the team’s sustained success than the rest of the organization combined. Without all three working in sync for the last decade and a half, it’s likely that the Patriots would be just another middling franchise. I grew up in awe of these three, particularly Belichick and especially Brady. But what do you do when your favorite player, esteemed coach and dedicated owner of a team that has defined your sports fandom suddenly, and very publicly, support something you are appalled by?
My initial reaction was to double down on my resentment for Trump. Why does he have to ruin another thing that matters to me? Why make fans from a region that soundly rejected his politics come to terms with his support of their team and most hallowed names? Why should my moral quandaries as a fan have to extend beyond controversy over underinflated balls? It may sound childish or selfish, but that’s the nature of sports. We follow our team of choice with a unique zeal, their highs and lows etched into permanent memory. They operate within a distinct set of rules that we recognize and follow without question. There is drama, debate and disappointment, but the mark of a true fan is someone who can stay loyal through it all. When someone like Trump comes along and muddies that accepted reality, it’s a shock to our collective understanding. Although undoubtedly connected, political and sporting affiliations are usually not mutually exclusive. But there’s never been anyone like Trump, and when a relationship with a team is as pronounced as his is with the Patriots, it’s hard to escape the feeling that supporting the team while vehemently rejecting the president is downright hypocritical.
Those same tenets of fandom that have traditionally been a measure of unity now lack coher- ence. Why is it that, as a fan, I can wholeheartedly agree with notions of loyalty and camaraderie on the football field, but question those same traits when players, coaches and owners carry them forward to their outside lives? Why should my celebration of their incredible victory in 2015 be caveat-free while last Sunday I immediately felt a small sense of bitterness when the confetti fell? How do I separate the part of myself that wants to scream, “Brady is the GOAT!” from an entirely separate portion that knows he, Belichick and Kraft either passively or actively endorsed the hatred that now leads our country?
This situation is not bereft of bright spots. There’s a small sense of relief in knowing that there are other outspoken voices on the team that reject Trump, like tight end Martellus Bennett and safety Devin McCourty, who have said they won’t attend the traditional visit to the White House taken by the champions. I’d be surprised if more don’t join them.
There’s also a degree of escape in being a sports fan that can provide comfort in volatile moments. For me, this season’s Patriots team was a break from the chaos of the campaign and election. Their games were a slice of time when I could get excited again and shift my focus from hard realities of the world to the nuance, strategy and, most importantly, non-partisan nature of the game. Trump put cracks in that foundation (call it my safe space, if you like) but I don’t think he broke it.
Just like Brady, Belichick and Kraft, I get to choose what effect Trump has on me, at least as it pertains to football. I’ve wrestled with what to do, and don’t have one clear answer, but it also seems wrong to allow him to corrupt something that I care about purely out of association. And now more than ever, it’s important to have some place of readily accessible retreat. I’m not going to let Trump take that away. After seeing the raucous championship parade on Tuesday in Boston, in a state where not a single county voted for Trump and in a region that is as blue as they come, I think many feel the same way.
I refuse to deny myself hundreds of replays of that fourth quarter and overtime, analytical deep dives into the anatomy of the comeback and even a piece of memorabilia or two. I’d be lying to myself if I said their victory on Sunday didn’t rank among the best moments of my life, or even that I would have welcomed their defeat, if only to spite Trump and his supporters within the organization. True, this fifth champion- ship comes with moral ambiguity as an American citizen and human being. But Trump already controls enough, and what can be gained by letting him rule over my fandom as well? I can live with being called hypocritical if it comes to that.
I don’t pretend to hold up Brady, Belichick or Kraft as role models, but there’s no denying their brilliance on the field. I’ll root for them there, qualms and all, because there’s no benefit to the alternative. Such a conclusion is complicated, like anything else, but also abundantly clear. If being a Patriots fan has taught me anything, it’s how to resist a foolish autocrat who likes to flex his power (suck it, Goodell). It may be time to apply that knowledge to the current administration, but as far as I’m concerned, the Patriots are still the Patriots, and rings speak for themselves.