Those of a certain age might remember the N.F.L. Hall of Famer Lance Alworth, who starred during the 1960s and ’70s as a wide receiver for the San Diego Chargers and the Dallas Cowboys.
Nicknamed “Bambi” for his baby face, big brown eyes, and high-stepping running style, Alworth was as handsome and charismatic as he was talented on the gridiron. Fans and teammates idolized and adored him. He had success, fame, a beautiful wife, and a loving family. He led a charmed life.
So much so that a fellow Charger once told this story: The team was flying home after a road trip and they encountered horrible weather. The plane was shaking, plunging, certain to crash. “Then I remembered,” the player said, “that Lance was on board, and I relaxed. I told myself, ‘God wouldn’t kill Lance.’ I guess I was right, for the plane landed safely. That’s how special he was.”
That’s the feeling I got last Thursday at the open events for CardVault by Tom Brady in East Hampton. I’d been invited by this paper’s sports editor, Jack Graves, to tag along and help cover the event, but with the weather being so nasty, having rained through the night and morning, and with the late-afternoon forecast even worse, I was sure the festivities would be postponed or canceled.
But Jack let me know that the organizers were moving ahead, that Tom Brady would be doing a semi-private meet-and-greet inside the store at 3:30, after which he would make a public appearance at Herrick Park.
With the rain pelting down on my car, I drove over in the unseasonable cold, thinking folks surely would not come out in such miserable conditions. Or, if they did, would they endure a long wait in the elements to get a chance to see the star?
But Brady’s team knew better. Perhaps, like the player who trusted that nothing bad would ever befall Lance Alworth, they believed fervently in their leader’s invincibility. If so, they were right: At around 5, the rain stopped, and for the first time in a long while the sun cleared away the clouds and bathed Brady in light as he strode from the store to the park, cheered on by me and a throng of other fans.
My fandom, however, was new. My former dislike of Brady wasn’t personal. It was only because he and his New England Patriots nearly always defeated my beloved Buffalo Bills. Season after season, year after year, we lost to them, often by lopsided margins. Against the Bills (and most other teams), Brady was methodically and maddeningly brilliant. His passes were precise, he was cool under pressure, he was strategic and cerebral in directing and dismantling a defense, and he was athletic when needed. We couldn’t beat him. Ergo, I didn’t like him.
But this changed during the CardVault event. Even before the sun came out, he won me over. And not just because the store boasted a jersey signed by Josh Allen, the Bills’ M.V.P. No, it was because he was genuine. As a writer I’m tuned into finding the phony; much of my work is devoted to exposing and skewering hypocrisy. But Brady, I decided, was nothing of the sort. He was the real deal.
Inside the store, before taking photos with people and signing whatever they asked him to sign, he spoke about how much this moment meant to him, how much he liked East Hampton, how it reminded him of where he had grown up, especially the people with their welcoming kindness and positive energy. He said he hoped through CardVault to share his lifelong love of collecting and the joy of engaging in hobbies with this special community.
In the park he was even better. He climbed onto a makeshift stage to thunderous applause, turned first to high-five members of the East Hampton High School football team, including the squad’s quarterback, Theo Ball, who was wearing his iconic number 12. You could see and sense Brady’s comfort with these young men, and with all the children in attendance — toddlers to teens. Along with his youthful looks, he has retained a youthful spirit. He thanked everyone again for their support, passed out cards to the kids, and tossed scores of mini footballs into the crowd.
Watching him pass was the only time my former resentment arose. His form was a thing of beauty, the arcing motion of his arm was like Matisse’s “The Dance,” reminding me of all those touchdowns he threw against the Bills.
Later, I thought about the day, about Brady, and about CardVault. It’s hard for any new business to make headway these days, but I believe this store will do well. Part of it is psychological. When I asked Jason Kurtz, a psychoanalyst, why sports memorabilia was so popular, he said that as social creatures human beings naturally want to connect with other human beings — the more intimate and personal the better.
It’s not enough, he said, to like a sports figure — we want to feel a direct connection. When we follow an athlete we memorize the athlete’s stats, and, in watching him or her perform, imagine that we are part of their process. They win for us, their fans! Getting a signature solidifies this connection, makes it even more intimate. “They signed a football for us! No one else has that signature.” They become very dear to us.
Moreover, I believe CardVault will succeed because of Brady’s involvement. Among other things, he is a triple threat when it comes to marketing — men, women, and children are drawn to him. He exudes confidence, but doesn’t seem arrogant. And we know he is a hard worker.
Most important, he’s authentic, a vital characteristic in an industry that values authenticity highly. I know I will be a customer. In fact, I’m already saving up for a Josh Allen Super Bowl ring.
But maybe I’m getting ahead of myself.
John McCaffrey is a writer who lives in Wainscott.
