Make the break ... Bill Belichick must go

This is difficult. Bill Belichick is the author of perhaps the great run of success in Boston sports since Red Auerbach coached the Celtics to eight straight NBA championiships (and nine out of 10).

He's almost universally acknowledged, and rightfully so, as the National Football League's pre-eminent coach. The problem is, he's also almost universally acknowledged as the NFL's pre-eminent jerk.

Now, it's no big sin to be a jerk ... as long as you win. Red Auerbach wasn't exactly the most gracious winner in history either. Jeeezus, Red used to light up a cigar -- right there on the floor of the Boston Garden -- when he determined the game was over ... even if there was time left on the clock. Just that alone makes Belichick's one-second-early exit from the University of Phoenix Stadium in Glendale, Ariz., in Super Bowl XLII seem almost like a good will gesture by comparison.

Jerks abound in professional sports, and most of the time, the jerks coming out on the winning end of the final score. Just go through the list: Jimmy Johnson, Barry Switzer, Billy Martin, the aforementioned Auerbach, George Steinbrenner ... and that's just a small sampling. Until Herb Brooks coached the U.S. Olympic hockey team to a gold medal in 1980, he was a monumental jerk who, once, kept his team on the ice, skating up and down the ice, until everyone one of those kids was ready to vomit. And that was just after they'd played a game.

It's not such a good thing to be a jerk when you lose, however. Around here John McNamara springs to mind. Johnny Mac may have managed the Boston Red Sox to the 1986 pennant, but then Rich Gedman let the ball get past him, the next ball when through Bill Buckner's legs, and Sox suddenly became an international symbol for having a foreign object lodged in one's throat.

Johnny Mac never stopped being a jerk ... and he was fired a year and a half later. Good guy Joe Morgan took over and probably lasted a few seasons longer than he had a right to expect ... because he was the anti-jerk.

But name me a jerk ... from any era, any city, any sports, and I say Bill Belichick laps the field. Let's start with the obvious: Spygate. This is starting to sound like Roger Clemens (speaking of jerks) and steroids. Everything you hear is worse than the last thing you heard. I doubt Clemens has ever heard of Sir Walter Scott, but perhaps if he'd read a little bit by him he'd know the adage, "oh, what a tangled web we weave when first we practise to deceive."

Ditto Belichick. Way back in September, when this broke, Belichick -- if he had any sense of decency -- would have told NFL commissioner Roger Goodall "ok, you've got me," and taken his medicine. And that medicine should have been a suspension AND a fine.

If either Belichick or Goodall had acted with anything other sweeping this whole thing under the rug in their minds, we wouldn't be listening U.S. Senator Arlen Spector (what DO these people do all day long anyway??) treating this thing as if it's the Nuremberg Trials Redux.

(For that matter, had Clemens been equally forthcoming, he wouldn't have been dragged before Congress so that his stupidity could become an indelible entry into the Congressional record).

Now, if you believe the myriad of anonymous sources and apparent sleazeballs like Matt Walsh, there's so much illicit footage in the Patriots vaults they could make a miniseries out of it. By the time all this "spygate" drama truly unfolds, it's possible that all three Super Bowl victories could be irreparably tainted.

And while I couldn't care less about Belichick's reputation, I do care about Tom Brady's ... and Tedy Bruschi's ... and Adam Vinatieri's ... and Richard Seymour's ... and Mike Vrabel's ... and Rodney Harrison's (even if he DID use HGH ... at least he admitted it). They stand to get swept up in all of this too ... just by association.

"Spygate" is not my only grievance with Belichick (though it's certainly enough of one). He's also, quite simply, an embarrassment ... to himself and the organization he represents. The real tragedy here is that, apparently, he's a very intelligent, and very engaging person when he's among friends, and among people he trusts.

And that just makes his conduct in competitive moments even more puzzling.

I think we can all understand competition. I think we all understand that competitive people get into this "zone," where they're so totally focused that they allow nothing, or no one, to stand in their way.

And I admire that. I think it's great, for example, that David Ortiz can zone out 35,000 people screaming for him to get a hit and concentrate on his battle with the pitcher enough to be one of the best clutch hitters I've ever seen. I love the fact that Larry Bird could go into a hostile arena, with upwards to 18,000 people screaming at him, and sink the two game-winning free throws. And how can you not tip your hat to Brady et al. when they can go into a place like Pittsburgh, or Indianapolis, with all those crazy fans, and win.

But do you know what's greater about David Ortiz? When the Red Sox lose, and the game's over, he acts like a gentlemen. Larry Bird may not have enjoyed dissecting a game after the Celtics lost, but he did it ... and intelligently, too (this business about him being the hick from French Lick was so phony). Win or lose, Brady, Bruschi, and Harrison stand up and answer questionsn intelligently and civilly.

Even when the Patriots win, Belichick acts like you're trying to extract valuable information out of him. When they lose, he acts like Captain Queeg. You can almost see the ball bearings.

Well, you say, who cares about how he treats the news media? They're all out to rip him anyway, so why should he be civil to them? It's a point well taken. The media are frustrated when it comes to dealing with Belichick. It's not a very pleasant task. The media's job is to relay information to the fans who pay for tickets, buy merchandise, and whose interest in the team makes it worth what it is today.

There's no other way to get information. And while it's understandable that the Belichick doesn't want to give away the store, with regards to injuries, some of the questions he dodges, and the lengths to which he goes to dodge them, is absurd. And this was never more evident than it was last September when he flat-out refused to discuss the developing Spygate story.

Excuse me, Coach, but you don't get to make that decision. If you don't want to discuss the severity of Brady's ankle sprain (which was probably way worse than anyone let on, judging by the way he played in the Super Bowl), that's fine. But when you violate the rules and get caught -- especially by the guy who used to work for you (and, for all any of us know, did the dirty work himself back in the day) -- then you don't get to decide when the story's run its course. That's just arrogant.

But arrogant, thy name is Belichick. Let's talk about Eric Mangini. Apparently, Belichick didn't think Mangini was ready to coach in the NFL when the Jets approached him about taking the job. Well, isn't this just every office conflict that's ever come down the pipe? Isn't there always a boss, somewhere, who stands between you and advancement ... and for some ridiculous reason (such as "you're too valuable and I can't afford to lose you").

Right.

The difference between you and Mangini, though, is that Mangini got an offer he couldn't refuse. And he took it. The problem is that while all this was going on, the Patriots were getting ready for the 2005 playoffs -- where they lost in the second round to the Denver Broncos. Mangini, or so the rumors say, tried to talk to potential Patriots free agents on his way out the door ... another thing that chapped Bill's buttocks.

So now it's 2006, and you have to drag Mangini's name out of Belichick as if saying it will mean instant death. He refers to Mangini as "the Jets' coach." THEN, the Jets beat the Patriots in Foxborough and Belichick doesn't even shake Mangini's hand.

Now Lord knows, this is not a requirement. It's not in the list of "thou shalts and thou shalt nots" governing the conduct of NFL coaches (the way filming defensive signals from the sidelines is). But it is accepted protocol, and it's widely practiced. Allowing yourself to be seen as a churl, on national TV, indicates a remarkable lack of respect for your owner ... the guy who's paying you all this money (we'll get to Bob Kraft in a minute).

The coda to this story, of course, is that the Patriots beat the Jets in the playoffs, and Belichick, so anxious was he to be seen as the ultimate gracious winner, bowled over a photographer (shoved him out of the way, actually) so he could offer Mangini a hearty handshake.

If that's not irony, I don't know what is!

Let's cut to San Diego, where some of the Patriots players displayed an uncharacteristic lack of class and stomped on the Chargers' logo after upsetting them in the divisional round of the playoffs.

Afterward, LaDanian Tomlinson -- clearly upset and stunned by the loss -- said that the Patriots players probably got their lack of class from their coach. I can't see how he could have POSSIBLY made that connection, can you?

Let's talk about this season.

After Spygate broke, Belichick apparently saw as his mission to humiliate the entire NFL as a means of payback. Week after week, the team went out and bludgeoned a series of hapless opponents (well not all of them were hapless; the Redskins, 52-7 losers, actually made the playoffs; and the Browns came close). The only close game was the 24-20 come-from-behind win over the Colts.

And you have to ask: Was all that bludgeoning really necessary? Did it serve any useful purposes, other than to make the Patriots the most hated franchise in the NFL? Did it help establish them as a superior team? Or did it result in having a bull's eye painted on their backs?

Whatever the psychological ramifications of those bludgeonings were, the PR effect was disastrous. The Patriots were seen as bullies, and Belichick came across as Dr. Evil with a hoodie. Except that Dr. Evil was funny, and Belichick isn't.

By the time the season ended, and the Patriots finally got roughed up a little, there was an air of vulnerability to them. They absolutely limped to their 16-0 regular season record, seemingly getting worse instead of better ... as is the usual formula for success in the NFL. If there was ever a team ripe to being upset by a hungry, nasty and motivated team like the Giants, it was the Patriots.

This of course brings up another absolutely unlikeable Bill Belichick trait: Hubris. This man wrote the book (or, at least, he co-authored it with George W. Bush, who seems to have an overabundance of it himself).

Hubris is basically an unjustified belief in yourself. It is not hubris, for example, to say "I'm a good enough coach, or a good enough player, that I'm capable of going out there on any given Sunday and winning the game." Why play at all if you think you're going to lose?

It is hubris, on the other hand, to say "I can strip mine my team yearly, let go of valuable free agents, bring in lesser players and teach them MY system ... but it's MY system, and not the athletes, who have won these three Super Bowls."

After all Adam Vinatieri did for the franchise, why is he playing for the Indianapolis Colts? After all Deion Branch did for this franchise, why is he with the Seattle Seahawks?

If Adam Vinatieri was so expendable, why is that Belichick was afraid to have Stephen Gostkowski kick a field goal on a fourth-and-13, from the 31-yard line -- IN A DOMED STADIUM, no less -- that would have given the Patriots a 10-3 lead in a game where points had been non-existant since the first quarter? Do you think he'd have snubbed Vinatieri in that situation?

When Belichick allowed BOTH starting receivers to walk after the 2005 season, that spoke volumes about how he treats loyal players. I'm not talking about either Branch or Givens. I'm talking about Tom Brady, who gave money BACK to the team when he signed his last contract so it could sign talented players and stay within the salary cap.

Belichick rewarded him by taking away his two best receivers and then replacing them with the likes of Reche Caldwell. I can still see Caldwell dropping a pass that would have been a sure touchdown in the AFC championship game in Indianapolis. Just about everyone else on the field was in Ohio. That's how wide-open Caldwell was.

These are small transgressions, and, taken separately, they're certainly not grounds for dismissal. Coaches have to make personnel decisions every day, and they're not all going to be strokes of genius.

And there probably isn't a coach out there who hasn't acted like an ass at least once ... unless it's St. Tony Dungy (let's everyone pause for a minute and genuflect).

But Belichick's hubris, arrogance, blatant disregard for even common civility, and -- of course -- his spectacular disregard for the rules of the NFL -- add up to a man who has overstayed his welcome here. If I were Bob Kraft, I'd be embarrassed beyond words by this guy. Sure, he's won Kraft three Super Bowls, but he's also left a ton of wreckage in his wake. If we were talking economics here, he's reached the point of diminishing returns.

Because Belichick was much more interested in stonewalling, and since Goodall was equally interested in doing the same thing, this Spygate issue is not going to go away. It'll be like the drip, drip, drip of some bizarre water tortue drill (waterboarding in super-slow motion?).

And by the time it really explodes, Kraft may have no choice but to rid himself of the problem's head: Bill Belichick.

They all said Bobby Knight would ever get fired ... he did. The New York Yankees fired Billy Martin after he won a World Series. Woody Hayes was enabled by Ohio State so much that he apparently thought it was OK to punch an opposing player out after he'd intercepted a pass. That one got him canned.

Jerks whose surly behavior ultimately haunt their teams like a hulking ghost DO get shown the door. And perhaps it's time to point Bill Belichick in that general direction.