Demaryius Thomas Sounds Upset That the Patriots Traded Him to the Jets

Source – Demaryius Thomas learned a valuable lesson with The Evil Empire that he won’t soon forget.

Never trust the Patriots.

Bill Belichick will toss you away at a moment’s notice if someone better comes along. The 31-year-old Thomas found out the hard way after taking Lord Vader at his word this summer. The five-time Pro Bowl wide receiver’s decision to stick around Foxborough after getting cut in late August revealed a sobering truth about the NFL’s greatest dynasty: Their word is not their bond.

Thomas chose not to sign elsewhere since he was given assurances that his spot with the Patriots this season was not in doubt. …

“They took a chance to bring me in and helped me get healthy,” said Thomas. … ” Josh McDaniels drafted me. So, I felt like I was cool. But even having conversations with him and couple other people, it was like, ‘You’re going to be okay.’ Two weeks later, AB gets cut… and then they kicked me (to the curb) and shipped me out like I’m just a rookie.”

Thomas didn’t speak with anger when retracing the end with the Patriots, but made it clear that he didn’t believe the team was forthright with him. Thomas, frankly, should have been insulted. He was an accomplished player with a decade-long reputation as a selfless team guy.

He was honest with the Patriots during his rehab. All he asked for was the same in return. Evidently, that’s an unreasonable request at 1 Patriot Place.

“It was disrespectful to me,” said Thomas, who was dealing with a hamstring strain at the time. “Like, you know, you could trust me and I could trust you. You told me when you cut me at the (final) cut, sit around you’ll bring me back. And I stayed. I could have easily become a Jet once I got cut.… I could have been here the next day after I got released. But I chose to stay.”

This says Demaryius Thomas didn’t “speak with anger” and I’m not going to “speak with anger” about Demaryius Thomas. I might be a shameless Patriots fanboy, but I’m a human being, too. I have feelings. I’m a bit of a narcissist so empathy might not be my strong suit. But I’m capable of pulling some off if I really work at it. And since Demaryius Thomas did and said all the right things in his short time here, I’ll put in the effort to look at this from his perspective.

If I walk a mile in Thomas’ cleats and try to imagine what this was like for him, all I can think of is how I’d react if I got a text from Erika saying I’ve been traded from Barstool to the Coolest Kids on the Internet:

… for some outraged, humorless, easily-triggered neckbeard to be named later. I’d be beyond devastated. I’d lose the will to live. You can’t expect a man to go from the greatest dynasty of our lifetimes to swirling the bowl in one day without there being some hurt feelings. I mean, imagine one day you’re in a position meeting with Bill Belichick and Josh McDaniels, and the next you’re staring into these unhinged Muppet eyes:

So Thomas’ feelings are the normal, natural response of a rational mind and I do not fault him for it.

But more to the point, his feelings do not matter. If Manish Mehta want to take the Lazy Writer’s way and go with the obvious Darth Vader reference, fine. I’ll play along. Demaryius Thomas wasn’t a Sith Lord. He wasn’t one of the Emperor’s Guard. He hadn’t even made it to the status of Very Expendable Clone or Anonymous Stormtrooper yet, though he was getting close. He was a droid. Nothing more. At best he was one of the Battle Droids from Episode I. But until he made the roster and started catching Brady passes, he was pretty much one of those little box ones that get growled at by Chewie and then comically roll off in the other direction.

The one thing I will take exception to is this business of them “giving him assurances” his roster spot was all set. Nobody gets any such assurances around here. The Bradichick Epoch is built on players being let go when it suited the greater good. Drew Bledsoe was the highest paid player in NFL history when he was left on the bench and then traded in the division. Lawyer Milloy was the first person Belichick hugged after beating the Rams in the Super Bowl. And he was released five days before the season, just two seasons later. Ty Law is a Hall of Famer who was allowed to walk to the Jets and lead the league in interceptions for them. Mike Vrabel is a member of the Three Ring Club, and he was a late throw-in in the Matt Cassel deal. Logan Mankins is the second best guard in team history, and he was traded at the last minute. Vince Wilfork is a Made Man in the Belichick Mafia, and he was let go for nothing.

I could go on. I’ve got 20 years of this stuff. But the point is, that lack of concern for the feelings of the droids that built this fully operation, unblowupable battle station is what has sustained it. As hard as it may be for Thomas to realize, there is nothing special about him. The NFL pension fund mails hundreds of checks to guys who were brought into Foxboro and didn’t work out. If he expected special consideration because he “was honest” with them or because he’s “an accomplished player with a decade-long reputation as a selfless team guy,” then he was living in Fantasyland.

My guess is, he was told no such thing about how he’d be a Patriot all season long. And now he’s gone from Fantasyland to Dysfunctionland. And it sucks for him. I can empathize with him. But that doesn’t mean I feel sorry for him. In Bill We Trust.