McAdam: Tom Brady is another in a long list of stars who didn't get to finish what they started in Boston

It never ends well.

OK, "never'' is a bit strong. Bill Russell, John Havlicek, Larry Bird,  John Hannah, Ted Williams, Carl Yastrzemski and a (very) few other sporting immortals never called anywhere but Boston home over their fabled careers.

But they're the exceptions. The rare exceptions.

The news that Tom Brady will continue to play football someplace other than Foxboro might not qualify as predictable. After all, there was hope, right up until Brady's Instagram post delivered the cruel news Tuesday morning, that a deal could be worked out allowing him to finish where he began.

But ultimately, that wasn't to be.

Perhaps we should have seen this coming. Something always gets in the way: Ego. Bruised feelings. Market forces. Unscrupulous agents.



It happened before the advent of free agency, the loophole Brady utilized for his exit. Bobby Orr didn't leave via free agency. He was -- and some 45 years after the fact, it's still unimaginable -- traded.

Brady is leaving of his own accord, though initial indications are the Patriots didn't exactly bend over backwards in order to retain him. As is often the case with these things, sometimes negative momentum is impossible to reverse. Both sides dig in, a standoff ensues and before you know it, it's over -- a sports version of an ugly divorce.

Sometimes, common sense and cooler heads prevail. It may be an apocryphal, but legend has it that Tom Yawkey and Yankee owner Dan Topping got together over (more than a few?) drinks and decided to do the unthinkable -- trade Ted Williams and Joe DiMaggio for one another.

The next morning, perhaps both thinking better of it (and with clearer heads), the deal was cancelled. So Williams stayed put.

Others haven't been so fortunate. Roger Clemens, having stalled out in the previous few seasons, left for Toronto, insulted by a lukewarm offer from the Red Sox. Dan Duquette famously said Clemens was in "the twilight of his career'' at 33, but Clemens went on to win another 162 games and four more Cy Young Awards.

Almost 25 years later, the Red Sox have been sold to another ownership group and there have been five other general managers, but the rift between Clemens and the Sox hasn't been fully healed. These things tend to leave a mark.

Ray Bourque, whom it could be argued is not only the second-best defenseman in Bruins history but in hockey history, didn't get to finish where he started, either. Bourque, nearing the end, politely asked to be traded elsewhere for a chance to win a Stanley Cup and was summarily dealt to the Colorado Avalanche.

Bourque got his wish the following year, and in a surreal moment unlikely to be matched, returned to Boston's City Hall to parade around with a Cup he won for another city.

But Bourque was excused by the fan base, who understood that his departure was due to ownership malfeasance. Jeremy Jacobs, pre-salary cap, was zealously guarding his fortune the way a petulant child protects his toys. Bourque had been the good soldier, playing for less than market value and remaining quiet about it -- publicly at least -- until he saw the end was near and requested a transfer for the chance to win the trophy that had cruelly eluded him for 21 seasons in Boston.

Other Boston legends stayed put and never realized the ultimate prize. Williams made it to one World Series in a career that stretched over parts of four decades. Yastrzemski made two, losing both.

Sometimes, owners who grow attached to their players made sure that their prized superstars would remain with their teams. That was the case with Yawkey, who regarded Yastrzemski like a son. And original Celtics owner Walter Brown would never have signed off on losing Russell or Bob Cousy.

That's not always the case, however. Phil Esposito -- who technically doesn't qualify for this class since he didn't begin his career with the Bruins -- was shipped out to the New York Rangers in 1975, only months after signing a new deal and being told by Jacobs that he would retire as a Bruin. That breach rankles Esposito to this day.

If there's a parallel to the Brady case, it's probably Orr, despite the obvious differences in their case histories. Unlike Brady, Orr, incredibly, was just 28 when he was dealt to Chicago in 1976. And unlike Brady, Orr was wracked and reduced by injuries, ravaged by a seemingly endless series of knee surgeries that robbed him of his brilliance.

Orr had played only 10 games in his final season in Boston and would manage just 26 with Chicago over the next two seasons before being forced to retire. It was as if the hockey gods couldn't stomach the sight of Orr wearing a Blackhawks sweater, an image which, to this day, makes Bruins fans of a certain age convulse.

Worse, as we later learned, Orr's departure didn't need to happen. His nefarious agent, Alan Eagleson, had withheld the news that the Bruins had offered part ownership of the team in their latest contract offer, and Orr, his feelings hurt and pride wounded, quietly acquiesced to a trade.

Brady and Orr have plenty in common, though. Both are considered the greatest of all time at their respective positions. Both lifted their teammates even the ordinary ones, to unprecedented heights. And both conducted themselves with the utmost of class and professionalism, both as players and members of the community.

Maybe we'll find out down the road that whatever tension existed between Brady and Bill Belichick didn't need to exist and that something got lost in translation. Maybe we'll learn that one face-to-face meeting could have resolved the differences and resulted in a deal for Brady to finish in Patriots uniform.

For now, that doesn't matter or provide much comfort to anguished Boston sports fans.

Today, Tom Brady is just one more Boston sports legend for whom it didn't end well, one more superstar offering a reluctant goodbye on his way out of town.