Back in focus

BY LENNY MEGLIOLA

Every move you make, every step you take, I’ll be watching you. — The Police, “Every Breath You Take”

That would be you, Tom Brady. Yes, I know, you are probably thinking, “What’s new? Y’all been watching me forever. I walk Gisele’s dog, you’re there. She hand-feeds me on vacation, you’re there. I cough, and it’s a sound bite.

“You’re there, every step I take.”

That’s correct, Tom, and we do apologize. We feel your pain. A public life can be hell. Too bad you can’t give the slip to the paparazzi and burn the tabloids. You just can’t seem to step out of your long shadow. Damn shame.

And yet, I’d be hard pressed to find a guy in the Western Hemisphere who wouldn’t swap lives with you in a heartbeat. For just a day!

But, hey, let’s talk football. You’ve had a Hall of Fame career, but you had a lousy eight minutes last season, because that was your season. Somehow, the Patriots got by without you. Well, almost. They didn’t make the playoffs, and everybody knows they would have if you’d been around. Not that that Cassel guy was all that bad. No, no.

Well, Matt Cassel’s going to Kansas City, and even if that deal hadn’t been struck, Tom, the most compelling story of the 2009 season was going to be whether you could work your magic again. No use asking how you’re doing. Sure, you’ve been subjected to a couple of on-camera moments, but all you’ve said is that the knee is coming along fine, rehab’s right on schedule, blah blah blah. In Foxborough, it’s easier to get a bank loan than to pry loose info about how it’s going for you. The Belichickian silence is deafening.

But they dumped Cassel, so they must totally buy into the notion that you’ll be good to go in the season opener and beyond. And that’s OK. Because we know, and you know, that nobody’s going to truly know if you can play until you step on the field. I mean really play, at the otherworldly high level you once did. There was nobody better than the old Tom Brady. So you can keep saying the rehab is going just swell, and the Patriots brass can keep the duct tape over their mouths, because the answers will come in time. The questions: a) can you again be transcendent? b) can you play without pain? c) can you take a sack? d) is your career over?

Until then, it’s all a guessing game.

The Pats usually have a passing camp in May or June. Will you be there? Camp starts for real in July. The team isn’t going to rush you. There’ll be so many medical people around, you’ll think you’re on the fourth floor at Mass. General.

Flex the knee. Jog a little. Keep it simple. No grimace? Good. One day at a time. If you get to the preseason without any missteps, the next step is preseason games, with unsympathetic 275-pound defensive ends aiming to flatten you. We’ll really be tuned in to that, unless the Pats hold you back for the season opener. If you’re even ready for that.

Nobody can say right now, and that’s the point. It’s all guessing and praying. I’ll bet it’s crossed your mind once or twice that you may have played your last game. That’s only human nature.

When that day actually comes, when you walk away from football, nobody will be more relieved than your mom and dad, Galynn and big Tom. Your father told me once that he and your mom couldn’t wait for you to retire. They worry. Most parents worry about their sons getting hurt playing football. That’s why the country has been overrun by soccer moms.

There was that day you were playing for Michigan and got cold-cocked. You wound up in the locker room, and when your parents got there, you were vague and punchy. That amped up their concern for your well-being.

Your dad has picked up a lot of frequent-flier miles following your football career. He told me that when you’re about to get sacked, he and your mother turn their heads. When they look back, they just hope you’re on your feet.

When that final game arrives, your parents will be crying out of a sense of relief. No regrets. You did all right for a sixth-round pick and a fourth-stringer. Canton, Ohio, beckons.

You once said this about injuries: “You can feel sorry for yourself, be discouraged, and whine and complain, but that doesn’t get you anywhere.”

You were almost never satisfied with your performance. You said, at the zenith of your career, “I don’t think anything is as good as I would like.”

One can only imagine what your life will be like after football. I think you’ll manage. You never were the typical jock. After beating the Carolina Panthers in Super Bowl XXXVIII, you and then-girlfriend Bridget Moynahan jetted to Europe. “He wanted to get away and broaden his life,” your father told me. You liked art, history. You’d always been the curious kind, he said.

But Europe wasn’t the clean getaway you were looking for. You were about to discover the impact of being a Super Bowl MVP. At the Vatican, you got an audience with the pope. Some paparazzi (they’re everywhere!) snapped a photo of the meeting. It got around. The photo was taken not because it was the pope; it was because the pope was with the Super Bowl MVP.

Your fishbowl had gotten smaller. In Rome, of all places. That fishbowl is being squeezed even tighter now, because you’re not the reigning Super Bowl MVP anymore, and it’s fair to wonder if you’ll ever be that guy again. You’re making a comeback!

Every move you make, every step you take ... everybody will be watching.

Everybody.

Veteran sports columnist Lenny Megliola is an OT contributor and can be reached at otfeedback@globe.com