Retirement

Tom Brady and Bill Belichick were to meet in the coach’s office and then have lunch. Lunch with Belichick was always at some fancy restaurant so he had dressed in a suit his loving wife Gisele had picked out for the occasion. The 6’4” man was a handsome and imposing sight even out of his uniform.

“Please sit down, Tom.” Belichick began in a very serious tone. “Before we go to lunch I need to have a talk with you about your future with the team. Nothing to worry about. Coffee?” Coffee? How could he possibly think about coffee when they were talking about something so damn important to him?

Belichick continued. “You’re getting a little long in the tooth so we have to start making plans for your retirement. We need to make way for a younger quarterback to take your place so you can get away from the wear and tear of football.”

Essentially, he was being put out to pasture, his coach telling him that he was past his prime. The famous, or infamous depending on your view, quarterback knew at 40 years of age that he was getting old for a professional quarterback and that his time as the king of the Patriots would come to an end someday but why talk about retirement this soon, especially when he had just led his team to another Super Bowl victory and proved all the naysayers wrong? True, he didn’t play like he had when he first started out but he was still quite capable of winning football games and bringing home trophies. For sure Gisele would like him to retire. She was always nagging him about going out on top before he was seriously injured, but football was his life.

“I’m sure we can find a spot for you within the organization, a nice desk job. Something that doesn’t require you to be on the field playing.”

Tom’s temper got the better of him and he erupted. “Seriously? No way. I want to keep playing for as long as I can. Besides, who are you going to get to replace me? Garoppolo?”

“Sorry Tom. I was hoping you would cooperate with me.” Belichick rang a buzzer on his desk and an immaculately dressed man entered the room. Tom had no idea who he was but he must be quite wealthy, judging by his suit and the gold cufflinks, studded with diamonds that formed the letters ‘HC” in the center, that he was wearing. “You leave me no choice.”

The stranger raised his arm, the cufflinks emitting a brilliant white flash that blinded Tom’s eyes. Suddenly he found himself outside, his arm poised to launch a spiral. He was so surprised by the sudden change that he fumbled the pass, the ball missing the intended target.

“Mills – get your head in the game. Stop goofing around.” Some man looking in his direction yelled.

“Huh?” Mills? Who the hell was Mills and why was this guy yelling at him? Still dazed by what had happened Tom tried to get his thoughts to clear.

“Mills…” Tom pointed at himself as the man yelled at him… “yeah, you Mills. Pick up the ball and show me that perfect pass of yours.”

Instinctively Tom picked up the football and, with pinpoint accuracy, launched it to the waiting receiver he saw downfield. Perfect throw but it didn’t feel like his normal pass. Before he could contemplate much further the man blew his whistle.

“Great pass, Mills. That’s more like it. Okay guys. Remember no practice after school today but be here early tomorrow morning. Hit the showers.” Obviously, the man was a coach and as he walked over to Tom he said, “Get some rest tonight. You look a little out of it and you have to be ready for the homecoming game on Saturday.”

“But I’m…” Tom started to protest, only to realize the voice he heard was not his usual. Instead it sounded younger… much younger… and deeper than normal. He just stood there, mouth agape as he looked down at himself, clad not in his suit but in a football jersey with the name “Mills” on it.

“You’re what, Mills? Relax boy. You’re not acting like yourself. Don’t let the pressure get to you. See you tomorrow.” Coach walked off the field, leaving Tom still staring at himself and the unfamiliar clothes he was wearing.

“Hey, pretty boy. Stop admiring yourself. We got class to go to, man.” One of the other players teased him as he walked by. Class? Homecoming? This sounded like he was back… nah, that couldn’t be. He rushed inside where he saw the other players going, presumably to the locker room to shower and change. He stopped dead in his tracks when he saw what had to be his reflection in the mirror. He wasn’t Tom Brady anymore, at least not physically. He looked like he was some high schooler. He had to admit he was good looking and in very good shape but still a high schooler. What had they done to him back in the office?

He was sweaty and before he was going to figure anything out he would have to get showered and dressed in some different clothes. The shower part was easy but where would he find clothes? He tried to discreetly find out which locker must be his when one of his teammates caught him searching.

“What’s the matter Mills? Lose your brain?”

“No. I’m just not feeling like myself today.” That definitely wasn’t a lie. He didn’t sound like himself either, his deep voice heavy with a sweet Southern drawl.

“Over there, jerk wad.” The guy pointed to a locker as he gave Tom a playful noogie. Prime spot. Must mean this Mills dude was high in the pecking order and as a guess Tom figured he was the star quarterback. How fitting!

Never one to be shy about his body, Tom proceeded to undress. This new body of his was quite impressive: tall, lean, yet loaded with powerful muscles everywhere and definitely ready for action. Reminded him of himself back in the day. Must be real popular with the ladies, too. What would Gisele think if she saw him now? Gisele! How was he going to explain this to Gisele? “Hi hon. Don’t sound like myself? Yeah, you might say that. I’m back in high school again. How do you feel about older women-younger men marriages? Way younger men…” He chuckled to himself. He was probably about 18 years old, likely a senior getting ready to go to college. The rest of the team was already dressed and heading out the door when a bell sounded.

Flashes of memory invaded his brain. Tom found out this Mills guy was quite intelligent, maybe even genius level. Smart, handsome, and athletic. The complete package for sure. The kid must have colleges clamoring for him, probably offering him scholarships galore just to get him to play football for them.

“Come on Einstein. Class.” He recognized the voice. It was his best bud Dylan.

“Shit! I gotta get dressed.” He dashed into the shower and out again, drying himself off as he went to his locker. Locker! Lockers have combos. He didn’t know the combo! He started to dial the lock and much to his surprise the lock opened. Could this day get any stranger?

Inside the locker were clothes quite worthy of a high school jock. “Must come from a wealthy family.” Tom thought to himself as he looked at the obviously expensive tailored clothes and the letterman jacket. He didn’t have time to think about all that now though. He got himself dressed and ready for class, the clothes hiding nothing of his impressive body beneath. He went off to get schooled again, joking with Dylan as they walked down the hall, and the girls eyeing him all the while. What else could he do? He couldn’t hurt this kid’s prospects while he tried to figure a way out of this predicament. Besides, how hard could it possibly be. He was Tom Brady after all and a grown man. Well, maybe not so grown at the moment and maybe not so much Tom Brady outside but still himself inside.

“Hey Dylan. I gotta take a leak. Meet you in class.” He ducked into the boy’s room, intent on calling Belichick and giving him a piece of his mind. He was going to find out how he did this to him, come hell or high water. He took out his cell and dialed Belichick’s number.

 “Hello, Tom… or should I say Brady. I wondered how long it would be before I head from you.” Belichick knew it was him. He didn’t sound surprised at all.

“What the fuck did you do to me Belichick? Putting me into a teenager’s body and life. And what’s with this ‘Brady’?’”

“You’re Brady… Brady Mills, but everyone calls you Einstein. Nice touch, no? You wouldn’t voluntarily retire so now you can play to your heart’s desire for a good many more years. Don’t worry Brady. We’ve got it all arranged… college back at your old alma mater Michigan, unless you prefer somewhere else, and eventually back to the Patriots if you wish. Provided of course you don’t hurt yourself somewhere along the way. Tom is standing here with me. He says hello.”

“Tom? I’m Tom.”

“No, you’re Brady now – high school football star, smart as a whip, and destined for greatness on the football field. I found Mills through one of our scouts and knew he would be perfect for you if you wouldn’t talk about retiring. Now I’ve got a new Tom Brady and you have a new career. Win-win, don’t you think? Sure, Mills was stunned at first but then when he found out he was the one and only Tom Brady… well, let’s just say he is quite happy with the arrangement, even if he did lose 22 years of his life, and is more than willing to retire and enjoy the perks of being a famous quarterback. He wants to thank you for the opportunity to be a real sports legend and for the great life he has. The kid took to your life like a fish to water, embracing everything about you immediately. You could never tell he wasn’t the real Tom Brady. But then again he is the real Tom Brady now. Oh, and he loves the suit.”

“Belichick, you fucker, Give me back my life.”

“Sorry Tom. That just isn’t going to happen. Don’t worry though. As soon as you give in to being Brady Mills you’ll settle into your new life very quickly. With all your football skills and smarts combined with Brady’s, you’ll be a natural. There won’t be any stopping you. In fact, I expect people will start calling you “the next Tom Brady”. Kind of ironic, don’t you think?” Belichick hung up the phone, a smug smirk on his face. He still had a lunch date to go to with Tom Brady.

Give in to being Brady Mills? No way! Why should he give up everything he had worked so hard to achieve just because somebody wanted him to retire and get out of the way? Preposterous. And what about Gisele? But then he realized he didn’t know how to get back to his old body or if it was even possible. A part of him was telling him to relax, accept that he was a whole new person.

Brady Mills - maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. He would miss Gisele but after all the kid could get any girl he desired. He had a whole lifetime ahead of him, had everything he could want and he could still play football…

He relinquished his anger, capitulating to that inner part. As he did so he could feel himself merging with Brady’s psyche and memories, totally becoming the high school star with a very bright future ahead of him. He turned around to pick up his gear and left the bathroom when he spotted Dylan just entering the classroom. “Hey Dylan. Wait up man. Did you see that new cheerleader? Kinda looks like the wife of that Tom Brady guy.” The two best buds laughed as they took their seats, retirement the farthest thing from Brady Mills’ thoughts.