It’s tough not to think about Tim Robbins when I hear Deflategate commenters preach, “The cover up is worse than the crime.”
That’s been the refrain since the Wells Report came out on Wednesday. Those taking issue with Tom Brady are focusing on his behavior since the AFC Championship Game, specifically in his press conference that week. Critics feel that Brady being guilty of intentional deflation is no longer the issue, but rather, Brady allegedly lying about his involvement. The cover up, this is now the issue.
These people are wrong. The issue is, and has always been, the insanity of the story itself and the looming capital punishment for a minor crime.
For the anti-Brady zealots, the words “cover up” are buzzy and make a convenient yet out-of-context case. The cover up was necessary because the crime, which Brady very likely committed, was about to be wildly over-prosecuted.
Anyone currently claiming “Brady should have owned up to it in January” is either forgetting or ignoring that, at the time, the slightest admission of any guilt at all could have meant a suspension from the Super Bowl. For doing something that carries a $25,000 fine. We’re hearing talk of this “cover up” like there was actually a one-week grace period for Brady to come clean with minimal to no repercussion. There was not. Rather, there was rampant suspicion that Brady would be suspended for the Super Bowl if he copped to even a miniscule infraction.
Let’s say you get a speeding ticket. You were nabbed going 60 in a 55, something everyone does, only the cops chose you because let’s say you’re the best looking guy in town with the best looking wife. It stinks, but you know this is a common, minor offense and you’ll get a $100 ticket.
Except, everyone you know, from lawyer to layman, opines that if you decide to plead guilty, the fine will be $100,000 and you’ll go to jail. When you thought the fine would be $100, you were planning on paying. Now? You’d fight it like hell and lie your ass off to avoid a ludicrous penalty.
There’s no perfect analogy, but I think that one’s close. If Brady covered something up, it’s because he was facing unfair prosecution. Maybe he did cover it up for the hell of it, acting with nefarious intent. Self-awareness was likely the prevailing sentiment, though. He knows who he is, how people live to hate him (yes, that’s live, not love). He knew that an admission in the form of “Everyone else does the same thing and likes the ball as underinflated as possible,” would have given the wolves the ammo they assume they got in the Wells Report.
When will the slippery slope of Brady opinions taper off? In January it was all about the crime. Now it’s all about the cover up, as if the crime was never a big deal to begin with. Soon enough, it will be about something else, and the cover up will be remembered as differently as that final week in January.
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The Tim Robbins thoughts stem from another story about a corrupt investigation surrounding the Boston area: Mystic River. One of the underappreciated movies this century, it features Sean Penn’s Jimmy Markum accusing Robbins’s Dave Boyle of killing Jimmy’s daughter, when both men know deep down that Dave is innocent. Jimmy wants blood from someone, though, and tells Dave, “Admit what you did, and I’ll let you live.”
Spoiler alert: Dave, broken and out of options, gives a forced confession, hoping Jimmy will let him live. Jimmy does not.
The Jimmys of the world can bemoan the cover up all they want, but without it, Brady’s Super Bowl prospects may have been dumped in the Mystic with Dave Boyle.