I’m not going to lie, I was intrigued when I heard that Netflix would be doing a live roast of Tom Brady, the former quarterback of the Patriots and Buccaneers who spent over two decades roasting every NFL fan in America who didn’t drop the letter r when pronouncing car (not to mention Matt Damon, Ben Affleck and Mark Wahlberg, who used to drop their r’s before moving out of Boston and becoming actors).

I even liked the title of the show: “The Greatest Roast of All Time.”  Brady is considered the G.O.A.T–Greatest. (Quarterback) Of. All. Time. Get it? Get it? He was the professional athlete who took the word “goat” (formerly a bad thing) and made it a good thing.

I didn’t see the roast live but I heard some good things about it. For example, Bill Belichick, Brady’s head coach when he was with the Patriots, supposedly showed a charismatic side. I wanted to see that side of Belichick. Was his charisma authentic, or was it a genius scheme dreamed up to lull America into liking him before becoming the villainous head coach of the Carolina Panthers?

Kim Kardashian, who may or may not have dated Brady after his divorce from supermodel Gisele Bundchen, was supposedly booed during the living streaming of the roast. Those boos may have been edited out, but I was still fascinated to see how a Kardashian performed with a script (obviously, reality shows are never, ever scripted).

Brady reportedly had some decent jokes about deflated footballs and questionable ones involving 9/11. Drew Bledsoe, the quarterback who suffered the injury early in the 2001 season that jump-started Brady’s two-decades-long torture of America, was said to be funnier than Brady and Belichick.

Kevin Hart hosted the roast.

Comedian Nikki Glaser was said to be funny as hell.

I mean, I really wanted to watch this sucker. What a fun way to spend 60 or maybe even 90 minutes of my life, right?

Wrong.

Let’s just say that I was more than a little surprised to see that Brady’s roast lasted three hours. Three hours for an NFL quarterback. Are you kidding me? Yes, Brady won seven Super Bowls. Yes, he is arguably the greatest quarterback of all time. But three hours long?

Maybe I’m misremembering all of those Dean Martin celebrity roasts that were always on in the background when I was a little kid in the 1970s, but I don’t recall them being on for three hours every week. Heck, I don’t even think Frank Sinatra got more than 60 minutes during his roast.

Perhaps this has always been a thing. Either that or this is Brady’s last “Let’s F’n Go!” to America: “If you want to poke fun at me, you have to sit there for three hours to get through all of the good stuff.”

At least Brady had the common decency to put you out of your misery fast whenever he faced your favorite football team in a playoff game.

But a three-hour roast in his honor is like watching him find that damn slot receiver wide-open underneath over and over and over again during a three-hour game at Gillette Stadium.

There was never anything funny about that.