I considered writing yet another column this week about Boston’s top athlete - you know, ol’ No. 12 who currently plays his home games in Tampa Bay - and it struck me just how bizarre the New England sports landscape has become.
There isn’t a true superstar left among our four major sports franchises, a sad reality that hasn’t been realized since well before Tom Brady took the field in the fall of 2001, and probably dating to before the arrival of Pedro Martinez in November of 1997.
The great northeast hasn’t yet sunk back to ‘Loserville’ status, but ‘Welcome to JAG-ville’ might be an appropriate billboard to consider placing somewhere in mid Connecticut.
I know, Jayson Tatum, Patrice Bergeron, Xander Bogaerts and Stephon Gilmore are better on-field players than a ‘Just Another Guy’ tag would indicate; but nobody in that group is a superstar either. For my money, that status is reserved for the place where superior talent meets both leadership and personality that craves or at least owns the Boston limelight.
You know it when you see it. Brady. Rob Gronkowski. David Ortiz. Mo Vaughn. Ray Bourque and Cam Neely. Paul Pierce and Kevin Garnett. Larry Joe Bird, of course.
The larger-than-life guys you can’t take your eyes off of or stop talking about even when the games aren’t on. Guys who may not have loved the local media, but sure knew how to handle the press - part of the job - in a masterful and entertaining way.
Is there anyone in Boston right now that moves the needle, or even might get there someday? The collective Q-rating of the town’s athletes has gone from several ‘one of my favorites’ to too many ‘never heard of’s.’
Hell, the Revs may be the closest team to a title, and lack of team success for the big four franchises sure won’t make it easy for those team’s athletes to raise their individual status.
Think of where we were as a region only a year-and-a-half ago, June of 2019: Brady and the Pats were reigning champs yet again, as were the Red Sox with Mookie Betts in the midst of his age-26 season, Kyrie Irving hadn’t yet bolted for Brooklyn, and the Bruins were a win away from a Stanley Cup.
Now? Instead of a 2020 with Brady, Betts, and Irving around building their eternal legacies, we’re left with a hope that Tatum takes the next step and a college QB prospect slides down the draft board.
For the Pats, Cam Newton has brought in personality and leadership that’s off the charts but the talent just hasn’t followed, even by Newton’s own admission this week on WEEI’s The Greg Hill Show (“After putting out this film? I can’t go out like this”). At this point, I’m not even sure Belichick wants any more stars on the team, so maybe he’s thrilled with the Gilmores, McCourtys and Edelmans who toe the company line.
Tatum has the town’s best talent, but is still fringe-NBA top-ten and Betts-level quiet. Jaylen Brown seems like an interesting guy and natural leader but the elite talent is still in question.
Bogaerts and Rafael Devers are certainly good enough players to warrant star consideration, but either their personalities just aren’t Pedro-level or MLB’s overall struggles with likeability have worked against the young Sox infielders in making in-roads with a new generation. Chris Sale is a refreshing, honest quote with the press but he rarely could be bothered to speak even before Tommy John’s surgery took a season plus away from him.
The Bruins certainly still have some top-caliber talent, but their best quotes Brad Marchand and Tuukka Rask float in and out of elite status and both carry enough off-ice baggage that ‘superstar’ doesn’t seem to fit. David Pastrnak is an elite goal scorer with some flair, but can he carry the team without his Perfection Linemates? Bergeron is an amazing player who brings it every night, but I can’t remember the last notable thing he’s said.
Granted, phony doesn’t sell either. Bergeron can’t be something he’s not, nor should Bogaerts, Tatum, or Gilmore.
But personality does matter in fan appeal, and the reality is if David Ortiz walked into a room (pre-Covid) of Boston sports fans with that aforementioned foursome, he’d be the one getting mobbed four years after his retirement.
Lady Gaga’s mama was wrong, we’re not all born superstars. Those are the folks that bring you to your feet, send the tingle down a spine, bring the hands together and move jerseys off of shelves. Yes we’re spoiled, but it’s going on a year now that we haven’t had a true superstar to watch. Why can’t we get players like that anymore?