Who says the written word is dead?
This September, the world will get to learn just what makes Tom Brady so great when Tom Brady tells anyone willing to read a book called “The TB12 Method: How to Achieve a Lifetime of Sustained Peak Performance,” published by Simon & Schuster.
The book, according to the press release announcing it, will be “oversized, heavily illustrated, revealing yet deeply practical,” which makes no sense, but what even does now?
“Filled with lessons learned from Brady’s own peak performance training, The TB12 Method also advocates for more effective approaches to strength training, hydration, nutrition, supplementation, cognitive fitness, recovery, and other lifestyle choices that dramatically decrease the risk of injury while amplifying and extending performance, as well as quality of life.”
With all due respect to the five-time Super Bowl-winning quarterback, this is a tremendous ruse. It will be plenty successful, because people all over New England need Christmas gifts for their dads, but “The TB12 Method” is not going to change anyone’s life any more than an article in Cosmopolitan featuring his wife Gisele Bundchen’s top tips for a bikini body.
It’s good to see money and interest in sports books, so here’s hoping we see a few more deals in the weeks and months to come. Such as…
Big Sexy Forever, by Bartolo Colon: The 44-year-old pitcher, a remarkable physical specimen with a two-decade professional career as a pitcher despite barely cracking 90 miles per hour with his fastball and owning the physique of a bowling ball, explains how to become so beloved that Mets fans clamor to bring him back after he posted an 8.14 ERA with Atlanta, even though he was once suspended for violating Major League Baseball’s drug policy, and even though he was revealed to have a secret family.
JD’s Straight Shot, by James Dolan: The owner of the New York Knicks reveals the secrets of success in the NBA, which can be applied more broadly to business and your personal life. The core defining principle to keep in mind at all times is, “think of what James Dolan would do as the owner of the Knicks, then do the exact opposite of that.”
Sure Thing Bro, by Mike Maddux: A great read for anyone who’s ever been overshadowed by a younger sibling, the 15-year major league veteran, who has gone on to become a well-respected pitching coach, shares the upside of going from being the person who impresses everyone to “the other one,” because Greg just had to follow the same career path and wind up becoming the best of his generation. Foreword by Venus Williams.
GO POUND SAND: A casualty of Brexit that nobody expected, or probably even cared about, is that the winner of golf’s British Open now will be paid in dollars, rather than in pounds.
This is important because it is hilarious, as if a championship golfer is really going to take that oversized check from the victory ceremony and bring it down to the nearest bodega to cash it. The Royal and Ancient Golf Club could pay the winner in euros, or rubles, or yuan. It’s all pretend anyway, digits being added to some electronic account somewhere, probably in Florida, or better yet, the Cayman Islands.
Come to think of it, then, paying out in dollars does make sense. Nobody wants to deal with those pesky exchange fees.
MISSED OPPORTUNITY: The Toronto Raptors became the ninth NBA team to announce plans for a sponsor’s patch on a jersey, making a three-year deal with Canadian insurance company Sun Life Financial.
This should have been a slam dunk for Jurassic World, which could really use some positive publicity after that horrific incident in which the genetically-modified Indominus Rex escaped containment.
Okay, fine, this is just an excuse to try to get actual dinosaurs back on the Raptors’ jerseys, like in the Pre-Drake glory days of Charles Oakley.