Tom Brady’s aptitude for converting third- and fourth-and-inches situations via quarterback sneak was something of a badge of honor during his days in New England. Here was this largely immobile, (theoretically) fragile 40-plus-year-old man (at the end there) ramming himself into a patchwork offensive line to pick up a first down that, in the grand scheme of things given that the Patriots were probably ahead by three touchdowns, was not all that meaningful.
It fit that familiar narrative of selflessness and grittiness. It was, minus the occasional trick play that was accompanied by a laugh track, the extent of designed quarterback running in New England.