We may never know what Croc from Tom Brady’s ‘TB Times’ represents. Maybe it’s better that way.

I started to worry in the fourth quarter. I didn’t worry when the Patriots were down, 28-3, against the Falcons in the third quarter of Super Bowl LI. But I did worry when they were down, 41-33, in the fourth quarter of Super Bowl LII, and time was running out. Then Danny Amendola didn’t catch the ball, and there was no more time. Time was up. It was Tom Brady vs. time, and time won.

So did the Eagles. This meant three things:

1. Philadelphia almost burned to the ground.

2. Nick Foles beat Brady in a Super Bowl.

3. The Patriots lost.

It’s that last item on the list that really kills me. Because it meant we didn’t get a TB Times post from Brady. He only puts them up after victories.

As many of you know, I’ve been tracking the evolution of Brady’s social media all season. I’ve obsessed over the bizarre tale of a crocodile that the quarterback, his Social Media Guy (S.M.G.), and an artist (D.K.) have been telling on Instagram and Facebook. The TB Times post after the Super Bowl, the final game of the season, was supposed to bring some closure to all of us invested in this enigmatic reptile. It was supposed to show us where this strange rabbit hole — one that has felt increasingly like a graphic novel by Hunter S. Thompson — ends. It was supposed to reveal who, or what, Croc represents. Brady told me that himself on Tuesday, when I camped out at his press conference and asked him about it.

Instead, the Patriots lost the Super Bowl, and we didn’t get any answers. But even if they’d won, and a post had gone up, I still don’t think we would’ve. I don’t think these guys had any clue what they were doing. I’m pretty sure they backed themselves into a narrative corner. My theory all season has been that these posts started as a way to see how weird Brady could get before Patriots fans started wondering what was going on.

The answer was: As weird as he wanted. Brady is a god in New England. You pray to him and say blessings over Dunkin’ Donuts iced regulars.

What I’m not sure Brady and his team were counting on, however, was how invested people were going to be in these comics. They probably just popped a crocodile into one image early in the season, thought it was funny, and ran with it. If I were a betting woman, I’d put good money down there was never a grand plan. I realize Brady most likely only told me there’d be a big reveal because that sounds intriguing.

But I wanted Croc to represent something. A small part of me still hoped.

None of that matters. Croc doesn’t represent anything, now. Brady is not a playful guy when he loses, and he most likely won’t be a playful guy until he wins another Super Bowl. Can you imagine having to be around him in the days, weeks, and months following that loss? He probably won’t ever tell another joke again.

What I’m saying is, I fear the TB Times narrative is dead. I’d love for it to come back next year, I really would, but I wouldn’t be surprised if it’s run its course. Croc is probably dead, too. Brady, S.M.G., and D.K. have probably already sent him to a nice farm upstate to run around with all the other crocodiles, if you catch my drift.

To tell you the truth, I’m a little relieved. Sometimes mystery is the only satisfying conclusion. The beauty of these posts were their complete insanity. I loved that they didn’t make sense. When you’re an adult, it seems like everything has to make sense. The whole point is to always Figure It Out. There was something really weird, wonderful, and beautiful, even, about Brady’s totally inconsequential posts remaining completely incomprehensible.

Someone wise probably once said something along the lines of, “Nonsense is essential.” I’m sure there’s a pillow you can buy on Etsy that has the general ethos embroidered on it. You can probably find an inspirational poster, or a children’s book, based on the idea.

But if there isn’t, and you can’t, then I’m going to be the one to say it: Nonsense is essential. I’d much prefer to keep getting emails from strangers positing their strange theories about who Croc could be (Brady’s Ugg endorsement, Father Time, Gisele, Gronk, Belichick, Brady’s desire to play forever, Brady’s haters — you guys were so inventive!) than know for sure. I want to keep speculating.

So maybe, at the end of all of this, what Croc really represents is the friends we made along the way.