Drake Maye gives hope, just like Drew Bledsoe did years ago

It happened so long ago now that just thinking about it triggers this aging man’s sciatica. And I don’t even have sciatica that I know of.

But two compelling sources, pro-football-reference.com and the Calendar, confirm that Drew Bledsoe – still young in the minds of Patriots fans of a certain age, but now 52 – made his debut there has over 31 seasons. , September 5, 1993.

Bledsoe, the No. 1 pick in that year’s draft out of Washington State, completed 14 of 30 passes for 148 yards, 2 touchdowns (the first of his career fittingly being a 54-yarder to tight end close and in the first round of the Hall of Nearly). Ben Coates, Canton Worthy Inductee) and an interception in the Patriots’ 38-14 season-opening loss to the Bills.

Of course, this match wasn’t just Bledsoe’s debut. This was the introduction of Bill Parcells as head coach of the Patriots. The usually sarcastic Parcells was in Fatherly Tuna mode before the game, telling his kid QB, “Hey, it’s not that hard.” You can do it. I trust you, otherwise I wouldn’t have put you in this position.

The headline in the Globe Sports the next day was not as encouraging: “Patriots: new era, same mistakes.” But columnist Michael Madden saw Bledsoe’s performance – even with disappointing overall statistics – as a glimmer of hope in the thick fog of a complete rebuild after the two-win 1992 season.

“Rookie mistakes? » he wrote. “Yes, there have been several, but there has been more than one time where Bledsoe moved the Patriots with composure, poise and arm.”

Does this sound like someone else you know? Where did you get to know him?

No, this visit to the Way Back Machine is not strictly for the usual nostalgic purposes. That’s because some — not all, but some — of what Drake Maye has done in his first four starts for a 2024 Patriots team desperate to find its own beacon in the fog reminds me of the moment where Bledsoe first arrived on the scene with a right arm loaded with hopefully 31 . . . there is an absurdly long time ago.

Maye, the No. 3 pick in April’s draft, is not a direct descendant of Bledsoe.

Both got their start absurdly young — Maye, who turned 22 on Aug. 30, is the youngest quarterback in the NFL. Bledsoe was actually younger, playing the entire 1993 season at age 21. But there are significant stylistic differences.

Maye has a great arm and throws a nice deep ball, but Bledsoe’s laser rocket arm was a bit stronger, and yet strangely inconsistent on deep throws.

Maye is an exciting runner who has already gained 209 yards rushing. Bledsoe had the mobility of one of those retro, buzzy electronic football games that never worked the way you wanted them to; he did not exceed 209 yards on the ground in his career until Week 7 in 1997, its fourth season.

What they have most in common should be pretty obvious: the ability to say three or four “wow!” play a game that promises a bright future, even on the darkest Sunday afternoons.

Watching Maye roll around on Sunday and throw a dart to a DeMario Douglas with a defensive back draped all over him was reminiscent of the way Bledsoe could put the ball into Coates no matter how many defenders were hanging on his limbs.

And Maye’s impromptu touchdown pass on the final play of regulation, when he ran for nearly 12 seconds before throwing an answered prayer to Rhamondre Stevenson? Bledsoe, for all his talent, had nothing like that in his repertoire.

Those 1993 Patriots – like the current edition – often got in their own way. They didn’t win until Week 5, a 23-21 road victory over the Cardinals. They lost 10 of their first 11 games, eight by six points or less.

And then, suddenly, the fog cleared. The Patriots won four in a row to end the 1993 season, all of them individually memorable, exciting or just plain weird:

¤ A 7-2 win over the Bengals (I think Bledsoe went 2 for 4 with four RBIs, I’ll check).

¤ A 20-17 victory over the Browns (Cleveland coach Bill Belichick, who had knocked out beloved quarterback Bernie Kosar in November, needed a police escort to leave the field).

¤ A 38-0 win over the Colts in which the Patriots ran for 256 yards and Bledsoe had a perfect 158.3 QB rating on 11 pass attempts).

¤ And the real moment of hope: a season-ending 33-27 overtime win over the Dolphins in which Bledsoe went 27 of 43 for 329 yards and 4 touchdowns, including a 36-yard game-winner to Michael Timpson on a slant -and-go. 4:44 in overtime. (“This kid knows how to throw,” Parcells said afterward. “There’s no doubt about it. He’ll scare them all in a year.”)

Now, I’d say the whole scene was the perfect way to enter the offseason, but the fear, as veteran Patriots fans may remember, was that the franchise was headed elsewhere: to St. Louis. We weren’t sure would be another year.

Bledsoe said, “I hope we play here next year. If the players and fans had something to say, we would stay. Unfortunately, this is not the case. This region deserves a winning football team. It’s been a long time since they’ve had one and I think we’re going to be one.

He was right, even if it was about how the Patriots became not only a winning football team, but the greatest dynasty the NFL has ever known. . . well, it probably didn’t turn out the way he imagined.

And so here we are now, a dynasty two decades in the past, and Maye stands here now as the singular symbol of better days to come.

Perhaps the most telling aspect of Bledsoe’s rookie season is the level of support he received – from Parcells to talents such as Coates, Andre Tippett (who collected his 100th and final career sack during that Miami game), Bruce Armstrong and Vincent Brown – compared to where Maye must navigate now.

Maye’s relative success, considering the degree of difficulty posed by the complete lack of talent surrounding him in the group, is remarkable. His offensive line is porous. Stevenson has 82 yards on his last 37 carries. Some receivers are better at using their hands to write cryptic complaints on social media than to catch the ball.

Ultimately, the ’24 Patriots aren’t going to emulate the ’93 Patriots. This team isn’t winning four in a row to close out the season. He might not win four, period. But it’s good.

What they need to do — it’s imperative, Eliot Wolf — is match the Patriots’ ability to identify, recruit and develop legitimate talent early in the Bledsoe era, from Willie McGinest in 1994 to Ty Law, Curtis Martin and Ted Johnson. in 1995, then Terry Glenn (yes, against Parcells’ wishes), lawyer Milloy and Tedy Bruschi in 1996.

This Patriots team needs so much. Maye is already being asked to do too much. But just like in 1993, they at least have the quarterback, and there’s nothing more important than that.

Ask him for help, and he will scare them all away. . . well, let’s say a few years.