After a long and successful NFL career, and a relatively disappointing post-football stint as Mach 3 razor spokesmodel, Tom Brady passed on and went to Heaven.
At first, Tom was frightened to appear before the Heavenly Father. Had he been a good steward of his talents? Had he reached his potential?
Sensing Tom's unease, God put His arm around him. "Relax, Tom," God said. "You've done well with what I've given you. Three Super Bowls, a touchdown passing record - well done. Behold what I have for you."
God gestured over to a beautiful 2-story brick home. It had drab navy blue shudders with the trademark Patriots head engraved in them. There was a Patriots flag in a holder attached to a post on the front porch. The home was, in a word, "nice."
Satisfied, Brady walked up the sidewalk and was about to enter his new divine dwelling, when something caught his eye.
A way up the road, there stood a towering mansion of royal blue brick, easily two football fields long and seemingly almost as high. The roof's white shingles glistened, and were enhanced by the blue shingles patterned in the shape of a horseshoe. Giant white columns supported a grand portico, the top of which held several Indianapolis Colts banners, each taller than Brady's home. Out front there was a circular driveway of blue and white cobblestone around which meticulously manicured shrubs gave way to a sparkling pond. In the middle of this pond, there was a fountain in the likeness of Peyton Manning triumphantly raising the Super Bowl XLI trophy. Blue horses ran wild on the estate's ample acreage.
This vexed Brady. "God," he said, "I don't want to sound ungrateful. Peyton Manning and I are friends, after all. But I broke his passing touchdowns record and I have three Super Bowl championships, and he has only one. Shouldn't his home be smaller than mine?"
God smiled. "Tom," He said. "That's not Peyton's home. It's mine."
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