There was a time when football coaches wore suits and ties on game day, and in the colder months they donned elegant coats and tweed hats. When players referred to “watching film,” they literally meant threading a projector. Pitchers pitched entire games, hockey players played without helmets, and there were no tackling restrictions on the field. Football players had jobs on the off-season because they made so little money from the game. Winning a championship meant that players donated pieces of bone for it. The banners that hung in Boston Garden weren’t just achievements, they were tombstones; epitaphs for every ball club that ever fought and died for a cause. Sports are better when players are covered in mud and blood -- it’s proof that they were there, and it’s a great way to win.
Another great way to win is to expose an opposing team’s weakness. The ‘08 NBA Finals between Los Angeles and Boston is a great example. If you recall, when Game 6 began, emotions were high, and there was a feeling in the Garden that the Celtics had the game on lock-down. They were 48 minutes from glory, and a 17th banner felt inevitable. Then Kobe came out in the first few minutes and started nailing three-pointers from impossible angles. He was a monster to be reckoned with. Great shot after great shot, nothing but net. At one point in the opening quarter, he said to the Boston crowd “not tonight,” implying that the Celtics might eventually win the series, but they’d have to do it with their backs up against a wall in a game 7 situation. But the Celtics didn’t seem to mind Kobe’s hot hand, nor his taunting. In fact, they seemed to enjoy it.
To any astute basketball analyst, it was clear that the series was ending that night, in Game 6, because the Celtics had successfully exposed Kobe’s inherent distrust in his teammates, which was the kink in the Lakers’ armor. Kobe had hidden his distrust through 82 games and three-and-a-half rounds of playoff basketball. But in Game 6 of the Finals, the Celtics brought it out in him. It became clear to the rest of the Lakers that they were at Game 6 for decoration and might as well have been handing out hot dogs. The Celtics knew all they had to do was outlast Kobe’s shooting streak, especially given that the shots were from so far away. There’s only so long anyone can keep that up, and they were right.
From his first day in the league, Kobe Bryant was a misfit. He was immediately at odds with his coach, the fans, the media, and his teammates. He was hated. And despite winning, this issue lasted for a long time. Kobe never grew out of his true self, but he learned a way to disguise it by adjusting his game. In his post-Shaq years, he adopted a new number and a new basketball lifestyle; he stopped treating every contest like a 48-minute vendetta against everyone on the floor, and instead, he spent the first two or three quarters of each game distributing the ball to his peers and getting everyone involved. Then in the fourth quarter, if necessary, he would channel his inner Jordan and take over the game. This was a recipe for success, and being a first-half team-player worked for him. His image didn’t totally soften, but he won over a lot of fans and his teammates.
But the Celtics effectively unravelled all those years of make-believe. The Celtics backed Kobe into a corner, leaving him no choice but to go “old-school.” And that’s why the Lakers lost Game 6. Pau Gasol spent the off-season lifting weights, stacking-on muscle for the sole purpose of preparing for a potential rematch with Boston. Sasha Vujacic cried. Lamar Odom shed the growing persona that he was a star, and revealed himself to be a pretty average basketball player. And in a year for Kobe that included an MVP trophy and an Olympic gold medal, only a Boston Championship spoiled his hat trick.
Now, back to football.
It’s not my intention to add to the heat that Bill’s been getting lately, because I’m a fan of his. I respect the guy a great deal. Any football lover knows that Bill Belichick’s place in history is written in stone. I love the guy, and I’d like to think he would respect the criticism he’s getting. My main concern here is this: the Patriots used to be a team that intellectually outwitted their opponents. Belichick and Adams were the primary Generals, although Adams took a more decidedly background role. It was Bill’s ship, and he was the master of exposing the weakness in the sea, no matter how troubled the waters. He won 3 Super Bowls doing it.
But when was the last time that happened? The Super Bowl loss to the Giants was a prime example of Coughlin beating Bill at Bill’s game. Then came two playoff losses to the Ravens and the Jets -- ball clubs that the Patriots know very well; there was no excuse for not being able to expose weaknesses in those teams. The only teams doing the exposing were Baltimore and New York. What’s frustrating again this year isn’t necessarily the 3 losses, but the 2 losses to teams we know so well. The Steelers and the Giants? Are you kidding me? Bill should have ten-volume textbooks on those teams. There should be special projectors in the locker room, threaded with film that focuses on just those 2 teams. And yet, over the last two weeks, it looked like the Patriots hadn’t played either team -- ever. It seemed like the only people who didn’t know what the Steelers and Giants were gonna do were the guys playing on the Patriots.
Aside from Wes and Hernandez, every guy on the Patriots played better last season. How is that possible? If one kid in the class fails, it’s his fault. If 28 out of 30 fail, the teacher has to have a hand in that somewhere. Patriots fans are simply trying improve the situation before it’s too late. The criticism has less to do with blame, and more to do with solutions. I hope Bill and the players accept all the analysis from the last two weeks, and use it to their advantage. We’re all on the same side. Listen, if they were only capable of being 5-3, then there would be no reason for concern. We’d applaud the effort. But this team could conceivably be 7-1 right now, which would put a whole new spin on their upcoming games with the Jets, the Chiefs, and the Eagles. It could mean the difference between playoffs and no playoffs.
Are these guys sacrificing their bodies to win? Are they exposing the weakness in the teams they play against? Big questions: Why is the system not working? Is it the players? Is it leadership? Are they playing as well as they can play? Maybe, but doubtful. Like I said, I saw a lot of these guys play better last season. Danny Woodhead in particular. They can’t all be bogged-down with injuries we don’t know about. Someone in a position of authority -- like Bill Belichick -- needs to thread up a projector and show his guys what football used to be like. Show them footage of what Dick Butkus’ hands looked like after every game -- all mangled and skinless. Study his look, his intensity. Show them footage of “the goal.” Take a field trip to see the statue of Orr. Have them sketch it in their pads, ask questions about it, start a debate. Do something to get these guys amped about playing in the NFL again. Every single person on the Jets, including Rex, is excited and grateful to be on a football field every Sunday. They play like it too. That’s what makes them dangerous. Someone, somewhere, somehow, has to make this Patriots team start clicking again. It’ll be scary when they do, but even scarier if they don’t.
