You have to feel for Drew Bledsoe. Well, maybe you don’t. But I do.

I feel for Drew Bledsoe because he’s one of my favorite players in the NFL. Not because he’s a great quarterback. He’s not. Oh, once upon a time he was a phenomenon. People forget that Bledsoe made a rookie splash in the NFL the likes of which hadn’t been seen since Dan Marino. But he’s not that player anymore. He can’t sling the ball all over the field the way he used to. He’s still a serviceable NFL quarterback, but only if he has a solid offensive line in front of him, which he doesn’t have in Dallas.

No, I feel for Bledsoe because he stands as one of the few true mensches in professional sports today. Now, since 9.7 out of 10 of you are sitting there with puzzled looks on your faces and beginning to scurry to Google or urbandictionary.com, here’s a little lesson in Yiddish 101: In German, the word “mensch” means “man.” In Yiddish, it’s a “man” to the nth degree. Someone to admire. Someone of character. An honorable, stand-up guy. Bledsoe is all of that.

In 2001, Bledsoe suffered a devastating blow at the hands of Jets linebacker Mo Lewis. The hit caused internal bleeding that Bledsoe was lucky to live through. While Bledsoe stood on the sidelines recuperating from the injury, he watched young Tom Brady turn the Pats around. Two months after he was injured, Bledsoe was healthy enough to play, but New England coach Bill Belichick stuck with Brady, leaving Bledsoe, the former top overall draft pick, to watch the 24-year-old Brady lead the Patriots to one of the most stunning Super Bowl victories ever.  

Belichick, of course, made the right call. He saw in Brady what few others saw – a true leader poised well beyond his years. Brady might be an iron horse, but Bledsoe was no Wally Pipp. He was a Pro Bowler. A franchise quarterback. And he had every reason to tell the world how he felt about the move. He felt cheated. He felt Belichick had lied to him. Yet you never heard a word out of Bledsoe. Not one peep. He spent the rest of that season in the shadows of an emerging star, helping him, mentoring him, and never once complaining – at least publicly – about his demotion. Bledsoe could have gone the route most players would go in that situation, becoming a locker room cancer and dividing the team. But instead, he took the high road, played out his time in Foxboro as a backup, won a Super Bowl ring, and shuffled off to Buffalo.

Now, it’s happening to Bledsoe again. The circumstances are different, of course. He’s clearly not the same player he was five years ago and he does tend to throw awful interceptions at the worst possible times. But then again, Tony Romo is no Tom Brady. And still, Bledsoe’s saying all the right things. "I'm going to do the right thing and continue to be a leader on this team and support Tony in his job and deal with my unfamiliar role to try and get us back on the right track," he said. Sure, he pouted a bit on Monday night when Cowboys coach Bill Parcells gave him the hook, but who wouldn’t? The man’s job had just been taken away from him. What was he supposed to do, tie a skimpy, plunging blue blouse around his chest, grab some pom poms and start cheering? We all know he doesn’t have the legs for it.

Bledsoe might never again be a starting quarterback in the NFL. He might not make the Hall of Fame, despite the fact that he’ll likely finish his NFL career ranked in the top five in both all-time passing yards and completions. But he’ll always be one of my favorite players.

You just don’t find many mensches in the NFL anymore.