Where are Tom Brady and Bill Belichick after their crushing Super Bowl loss?

Even at the top of their game, the New England Patriots fell short on Super Bowl 51. Bill Belichick and Tom Brady were uncharacteristically quiet at the post Super Bowl press conference, and the once iconic duo were outclassed and outmatched. The two packed their bags, and left the stadium mumbling about needing to get away. The only trace they left was some old UGG boots.

To this day, their whereabouts have remain a mystery. That all changes today - The Falcoholic proudly presents you the investigative report that located these men and got an interview.

Road to New England

I packed my bags and took a flight to Massachusetts. I didn’t know where to start, so it started there, right at Logan Airport. I came across an odd gentleman in the terminal lounge. He was old, and obviously disoriented. He wore a shirt with a different colored collar and a pair of Jordans with a high end suit. He asked every passer by if they knew where his golden boy was. I had no idea what he was talking about so I shook my head and just walked past him.

But after I had walked by, I could hear him cry "I need my fifth ring. Vlad already took one, I need more of the" He had to mean Bill and Tom with golden boys.

I knew I had come to the right place.

GO NORTH

Asking questions on the streets of Boston I ran into a man who looked like he had been through a rough couple of months. He had a burger in one hand, and on the other hand he held a teddy bear he was talking to.

“I miss these guys, I miss them so mahch. Why can’t they let me and you know wheah they ah? They could come to Reveah for some burgahs with us. A nice family meal!”

I stared with my mouth open wide as the man clearly was waiting for the teddy bear to answer him. He noticed me staring, and with a great Bostonian charm he swept me into Faneuil Hall and engaged me in a conversation on those he had lost.

"Tahmmy and Billy, they are like brothahs to me! I already have a few, but none as old as Billy or tall as Tahmmy. They must have gone to Bill’s friggin’ duck boat or somethin’. I dunno. Fo some reason they never invite us”

I said "maybe your teddy bear is a loud mouth", at which point he cursed at me, turned around and left. He seemed like a good guy, but clearly had some issues of his own. The talk really didn’t leave me with any good vibrations, or sweet sensations.

Oh wait Bill has a boat?

After spending all the money on a plane ticket to Boston, I hitchhiked to Portsmouth, New Hampshire. It’s a cute little town, with a lot of friendly but simple small town people. I was getting anxious at the last leg of the trip, as the driver who picked me up would start talking, but the sentences weren’t complete. He’d miss a word here and another one there, leaving me baffled on what he meant. So I just friendly nodded to his nonsense, and told him about my quest. He had heard of millionaires at the Bay of Fundy, just outside Nova Scotia, and said "I can easily arrange a boat to you."

Editor’s Note: You cannot easily arrange a boat to Nova Scotia. Portsmouth has many fine restaurants. If you stop by the town, ask for Dave.

Once we came to the docks, it became clear he had missed another word, and the arranged boat was a rowing boat. I thanked him on his part of the quest, and promised to mention him and his shiny bald head in the article. He claimed to be a hardcore fan of the Falcons, and as a proof he showed me multiple pics of Mohamed Sanu saying "this guy Desmond Trufant is my favorite player." I just nodded once more, and left for the open sea.

Just VI Rings

I came across a clamming boat called Just VI RINGS and there they were. Alive, but moping, Tom Brady and Bill Belichick had gone off the wire for a fishing trip that had already lasted for a few months.

The two were looking unusually grizzled. It is inhuman to have beards that long after two months, but it had clearly been a tough two months. They looked tired. Defeated. Lost. Like they had been on the run from the vicious Falcons defense since they left Houston.

"We been fishing with Tommy boy here, I’m waiting for him to come through and deliver me something he promised earlier, but I cant even remember what it was anymore," Bill said. “We’ve made $3,200 selling clams and lobsters. It’s not fancy work, but it’s honest. Now I can’t even remember what I did before this. It’s like I blocked it all from my memory.”

"Sometimes Aunt Linda visits us, and I get to be the captain of this boat when she is here," Tom said, before being shut down by Bill.

"I like to think we are still looking for that one big one here, before all this is over. Just one big one, to take home to Boston, you know?"

That one, the big one. At that moment I understood these men more than I had previously. After the Falcons took the big one home from the Super Bowl, these two were seeking for peace, seeking for a redemption of some sort.

There was a long silence, and Brady quietly screamed, “OH, NO, ROBERT ALFORD!” His cries were drowned out by the sea. He was forever broken by the Atlanta Falcons. What a miserable end to two Hall of Famers. They stood no match for a fast and physical defense, and genius offensive game plan.

It was just them against the overwhelming power of the sea, doing everything they can to get that big one. They failed in the Super Bowl, and their only choice was to win one against the sea.

"Do you want electrolytes mister reporter? I’m gonna catch the big one cause of them, and because I sleep in compression wear. Just ask lieutenant Bill!" Tom said with an enthusiasm of a child in Christmas morning.

"Just do your damn job," Bill yelled.