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The sincerest form of flattery New England will change how this league does businessPosted: Monday February 04, 2002 12:08 PM
NEW ORLEANS -- It was shortly after 1 o'clock Monday morning, on the mezzanine level of the New England Patriots' grand old team hotel, the Fairmont. Bill Belichick was in a strange little conga line outside the ballroom barely holding the rollicking team party, waiting for two Louisiana state police officers to organize the route into the party. He carried a drained Corona bottle in one hand. He wore a Super Bowl hat slightly askew on his head and a light brown suit. His wife, Deb, high-school daughter, Amanda, his boyhood buddy Mark Fredland and close aide Berj Najerian were along for what, in a moment, was going to a bumpy ride. "You realize," I said to the Super Bowl-winning coach, "that you've probably just changed how people are going to build teams now. You bring in 17 schmoes and win the Super Bowl ..." Belichick smiled. By the 17 low-cost free agents, I meant the Larry Izzos and Terrell Buckleys and Mike Comptons and Otis Smiths and Mike Vrabels, veteran middle-of-the-roster guys, all of whom cost less than $700,000 to sign during last year's free-agent rummage sale. And he recalled what his old personnel man from the Cleveland days told him after the Wal-Mart spree Belichick and his underrated director of player personnel, Scott Pioli, went on last spring. "Mike Lombardi [now an Oakland scout] called me after we signed all those guys," Belichick said, "and he told me what a good job he thought we'd done. He told me, 'You'll be successful and other teams are gonna look at this and build teams like you did.'"
It didn't look that way early. I saw Michael Strahan Sunday morning and he told me he remembered going to scrimmage the Patriots in August with his Giants. "They were terrible, an awful football team," he said. Then they were at 0-2, and at 1-3, coming off a 20-point loss at Miami. No one was thinking of modeling anything after these Patriots then, except maybe how to have rumors start about the coach getting fired after two bad years. But certainly there was nothing Super Bowlish in the air in October. "Super Bowl?" Belichick said, a stunned look on his face. "Are you kidding me? What's that thing Jim Mora said when the Colts had lost a bunch in a row?" I said, "'Playoffs? Playoffs? We're just trying to win a game!'" "Yeah," Belichick said. "My whole thing with this team was, 'Let's just get better. Let's just get a little better every day.' And, you know, of all the teams I've ever been around, these guys try so hard. They really try to do what you tell them." I told him I was amazed, as the pool reporter at Patriots' practices during the week, that not once in three afternoons of working his team did he raise his voice. I found that amazing. A guy as acerbic and pointed and blunt as Belichick can be, going through five hours and 56 minutes of football practice (I'm anal; I counted) without being loud. A Bill Parcells underling not being bellicose? Not even close. Not to go mystic or anything, but I'm telling you: Belichick and this team were at one. They knew what he wanted. They knew how to give it to him. "Well," Belichick said, "don't let that kid you. We've had some sessions with those guys, some real tough sessions. But all you can ask of players is to work hard and to try to get better every day." It's boring. It's not the Greatest Show on Turf. It also wins. That's why, as Lombardi says, this will be copied. Oh, this most definitely will be copied. Now it was time for the Belichick party to crash the party. These cops were serious. As we came around a bend, there were three partiers on a band of hotel pay phones, and for no apparent reason because they weren't in the way, the cops literally moved them forcefully away from the pay phones while they were still on them; one of the phones just clattered against the wall. "What are you do..." was all one party-dressed woman said before being moved. Patriots coming through. Make way. Everyone's going to wonder what kind of fluke this was. No fluke. Mike Martz was right coming in: This is a supremely well-coached team with enough talent. You scoff at that? I don't. Because this is the key to life in the NFL today: Every team has enough talent. It's how the talent is coached and orchestrated, and how the coaches make the talent 10 percent better than they'd be somewhere else. Coaching in the NFL means more than in any other sport, ever. (I cackle at an owner going into a room with Al Davis and throwing draft picks at him until he forks over Jon Gruden. He's worth it! Can't you see that?!) Football is a succession of plays. If all teams are close in talent, doesn't it make sense that the people who give you the edge in a few plays every game comprise the better team? On Friday, Belichick mentioned to offensive coordinator Charlie Weis that a red-zone pass play that had David Patten -- one of the bargain-basement guys, a cut by, of all teams, receiver-hungry Cleveland last offseason -- doing an out route at the goal line might be improved to an out-up-and-go. Belichick's theory, the old tapehead, was that after watching lots of video of St. Louis cornerback Dexter McCleon biting on the out near the goal line, let's have Patten sell the out, then fly to the corner of the end zone. They never ran it in practice last week, simply telling Tom Brady and Patten of the switch Saturday morning. Of course the play happened in the game. Of course McCleon bit. And of course Brady threw it perfectly to Patten for the touchdown. Vrabel's careening rush on Kurt Warner, which forced the Ty Law pick that gave New England an early 7-3 lead, was another example of unfamous players making Super Bowl-turning plays. When I asked the strongside 'backer about the Pats' signings, he smiled. "The has-been's and never-will-be's," he said after the game. "That's us. That's fine. We went out and proved here that football's the ultimate team game." Once in the party, Belichick accepted hugs from Patriots people and fans. I went to visit his dad. Steve Belichick is a peppy and talkative 83, and he got Bill into the coaching routine when the kid was 8 or 9. Bill sort of helped Steve, then an assistant coach at the Naval Academy, break down opponents' game tapes on the projector at home in Annapolis, Md. This was a proud papa, but no more proud than he was before the Patriots won the Super Bowl. "What did you tell your son after the game?" I asked Belichick the elder. "I told him, 'You finally won one on your own,'" he said. True. And the rest of the league was watching very, very closely.
Scene of the night: I've been ill with a bad flu. The last person I saw before entering Tulane University Medical Center Friday night for four hours was Martz, for an interview I'd arranged for CNN's NFL Preview show. Bronchial blockages were making it hard for me to breathe, and I was white, whiter than my usual Connecticut-bred white. "I want to take you to see our doctor," Martz told me. But my field producer, Jerry Klein, had already decided we'd go from the interview to the hospital. Anyway, after the game, I waited for Martz to climb off his podium to ask him a couple of things. He started walking back to the Rams' locker room in the bowels of this old dump. He saw me, stopped for a minute, and asked me three questions. He wanted to know how I made it through Friday night, how I was now and what type of flu I had. We talked for 30 seconds, maybe. His face held no pain. I wished him well, then he turned to walk to the locker room. He flipped a bottle of water into a dumpster and lightly punched the side of the dumpster. I felt a tap on my shoulder. "Peter," he said, "I'm Chris Martz. " "Your dad's a class guy," I told him. Chris told me one of his first memories was growing up in Fresno, Calif., and seeing his father plant flowers in the front yard. One day Chris mistakenly rode his bike through the flowers. "My dad told me, 'Always remember the difference between right and wrong,'" Chris said. Wrong would have been freaking out. Right was putting this thing in some perspective and not crying over spilled blitzes.
OFFENSIVE PLAYER OF THE WEEK: New England QB Tom Brady, all 24 years and six months of him. He was classic Brady in the game. Made a few plays, especially when his team needed him. Managed the game well. Didn't lose it. With a 16-of-27, 145-yard, one-touchdown, no-pick day, this won't go down in Super Bowl lore as a great game by a quarterback. But Brady won the game with that last drive. He's the perfect, sublimate-the-ego hero for a starless team. DEFENSIVE PLAYER OF THE WEEK: The New England secondary. Funny to do this when a team allows 365 passing yards, but that's the roulette wheel of playing the Rams. Yards happen. Ty Law, Otis Smith, Lawyer Milloy and Tebucky Jones, take a collective bow. Nineteen tackles, two interceptions, two dropped interceptions, seven passes defensed. Beautiful performance. Warner was getting tormented up front in large part because you guys bottled Torry Holt and Isaac Bruce to these numbers: no touchdowns, 95 yards. SPECIAL TEAMS PLAYER OF THE WEEK: New England K Adam Vinatieri and not just for the winning field goal. Let's think back to the second quarter, with 31 seconds left in the half. New England had just scored to take a 14-3 lead. The Rams wanted to take a serious four- or five-play try for points before halftime. They put Marshall Faulk back to return the kick. Vinatieri placed the kick to the far right sideline and Faulk, instead of letting it bounce out of bounds -- as it probably would have -- and start at the 40, caught it, tried to stay inbounds and took one step before going out at the 6. That's what great special teams play is, people. "He's been Mr. Clutch all year," Belichick said of Vinatieri. He was even when when he wasn't scoring points. COACH OF THE WEEK: New England head coach Bill Belichick . A writer approached Belichick's wife Deb after the game. "Is tonight a little revenge for what happened in Cleveland?" She said, "We are so past that!" And they are. They should be. Every coach grows and Bill Belichick has grown into a giant. Maybe he'll soon rival that very big Giant whose shadow has always lurked over him. GOAT OF THE WEEK: St. Louis tackle Rod Jones, who, rather than picking up blitzing outside 'backer Mike Vrabel six minutes into the second quarter, instead double-teamed the inside rusher, leaving Vrabel unblocked. He steamed in at Warner, who chose not to take the sack. He chose to float one into Law's hands for an interception, a very bad interception. "We blew the blitz pickup," Mike Martz said. No duh.
Walking outside the Superdome Sunday night, in front of a gaggle of Pats fans, I happened upon a revival preacher holding up a Jesus sign and shouting into a bullhorn. "WHAT ARE YOU GOING TO DO NEXT SUNDAY WITH NO FOOTBALL?" he kept yelling. "TURN TO THE LORD! NO FOOTBALL! WHAT WILL YOU DO ON SUNDAY?" One of the New England fans -- and I can't be sure of this, but I believe he had been drinking -- screamed, "I'm going wherever Vinatieri goes! For the rest of my life I will follow him!"
1. I think the MVP was about as tough a decision as there could be last night because there wasn't one. But I had one of the 15 votes, and so I had to make one. With five minutes to go, thinking the Pats would hang on, I had to have a defensive guy. But who? Law? Vrabel? Richard Seymour? Roman Pfifer? Otis Smith? I liked Smith's game a lot, not just his interception, and when Paul Zimmerman piped up next to me, "He's allowed two measly completions all day," Smith had my vote. But St. Louis tied the game. Then, with no timeouts and 81 seconds left with the ball at the Pats' 17, while many wondered if the coaches would ask him simply to kneel and wait for a chance in overtime, Brady went 5-of-7 for 53 yards and drove the Patriots into position for the winning field goal. Now, would it be Brady? Vinatieri? A 48-yarder is no gimme, particularly at the buzzer in the Super Bowl. I went with Brady. He did enough to win and he was the perfect Belichick quarterback. He didn't screw it up. That's why the coach likes him. No turnovers, no big errors, and some big plays down the stretch when his team had to have them. 2. I think I want to say this about Vinatieri: This is one very tough honcho from South Dakota. I mean, he's 12-of-12 in overtime or at the end of regulation to win or tie games. 3. I think these are my random Super Bowl observations: a. Mariah Carey can sing the national anthem for my team anytime. b. One Belichick regret: "The game's over if [Willie] McGinest doesn't hold Marshall Faulk." Remember? Rams going in to score, down 17-3, Warner fumbles near the goal line, Tebucky Jones goes 97 yards for a touchdown, it's 24-3 with 10 minutes left, until we see McGinest tackling Faulk. "Oh, it was a legit call," Belichick said. c. U2's two songs -- I wish it had been nine -- were perfect for the occasion. Beautiful Day was more baleful than what I heard on tour, and Where The Streets Have No Name sounded better because it was less noisy than a usual concert, I think because of the backdrop of all the names of the people who died in the Sept. 11 tragedy. I praise you, NFL, selfishly, for giving me 11 terrific minutes at halftime of a great event. d. Best Super Bowl of all time. e. Strategic, fun, mood-swingy, chess-matchy and an example of why this is such a great, great game: Hype is dung. You've got to play the game. f. There is nothing like sitting next to Paul Zimmerman while he charts a football game. What a football education. 4. I think these are my personal thoughts of the week: a. I was remiss about giving you any color from the Super Bowl all week, because, other than my one foray to the greatest restaurant on earth, NOLA's, Monday night and daily trips to Patriots' practice every day in my job as pool reporter, the only color I saw was the taupe of my Hyatt walls. I landed in Tulane University Medical Center Friday Night with this nasty flu, as I said. Two mist treatments of some steroid stuff opened me up and I felt human again. The highlight, though, was the environment. A hospital bordering the French Quarter on the eve of the Super Bowl? Wow. The guy next to me was a 60-ish drug user in some sort of withdrawal who wouldn't let anyone stick him with a needle. The guy next to him was hopelessly drunk with a face full of blood from a French Quarter fall. He kept puking in a bedpan. Super Bowl fever! Catch it! b. There is no better way to pass the time while sick than watching two episodes of Columbo on A&E, which is exactly how I spent much of my waking time Saturday. c. Coffeenerdness: The Canal Street Starbucks had its espresso machine go on the fritz around midday Friday, and one guy in front of me, upon finding out, said to no one, angrily, "So what I am supposed to do about my latte!" Decaf, buddy. Decaf. d. The security was fine, not oppressive. These guys were pros. Pretty interesting Sunday morning while doing the TV show to see guns in turrets on passing Coast Guard boats in the Mississippi, which was closed to most river traffic Sunday. 5. I think, even though I was not in the Pro Football Hall of Fame selection meeting Saturday morning because of my flu thing, I can say without fear after talking to my peers in the room that Tony Grossi of the Cleveland Plain Dealer did not cost Art Modell his place in Canton. 6. I think, and I don't know why I say this, Bill Parcells makes it next year. "I wasn't expecting it. You know that," he told me Saturday. I also know it ticks him off. That's another set of encyclopedias for another day, however. 7. I think the one thing I'll always regret about this season is fun football, really fun football, like the Rams play losing out. And I hope it doesn't change a whit about what they do and how they prepare for next season ... except in one way. They need to take care of the ball better. 8. I think it might just be my imagination, but did I miss the story about Tiger Woods turning mortal? 9. I think I know nothing about the Super Bowl broadcast Sunday or the ads. One year I'd like to veg out and watch all that stuff. 10. I think I have nothing left to think.
I like my own bed. For a long time. This bye-week-free Super Bowl's a killer. Sports Illustrated senior writer Peter King covers the NFL and appears
regularly on CNN/Sports Illustrated and CNN's NFL Preview.
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