Making a lap of the room, we felt a strange force, a kind of glowing magnetism of masculinity pulling us ever closer to some as-yet-unknown source—until we found ourselves face to face with the Caucasian column of dude that is Tom Brady. As we shook his massive mitt, we could nearly hear the collective Sméagol of every postpubescent woman in America whispering in our ear, “My precious!”
“Look at you all dressed up,” he remarked. “Who said press shouldn’t look dapper at these things?”
We didn’t know who had said that.
What of the bounties on his handsome head? we asked the three-time Super Bowl champion.
“Look, it’s a bummer to think of anyone purposely trying to put anyone else in a wheelchair,” he said.
We nodded in agreement, as we gazed into his Tahitian blue eyes.
“These club bounties have been getting a lot of press lately—which is good, to expose them for what they are—but if you’re asking if you could buy a five-figure watch with some of the bounties placed on my head, “I’d like to think so,” he said with a seven-figure smile.
Struggling to escape Mr. Brady’s gravitational pull, we had barely enough time to dive out of the way as the most famous living Austrian barreled down the red carpet: Arnold Schwarzenegger had arrived.