| Benjamin Haley. 31st December, 2007 - 6:10 pm
 To beat him, you’ve got to bring something he’s never seen before -- attack him from different angles, conceal your intentions, bring something exotic to the table. If you don’t, if you deliver him the standard fare, he will casually dismiss your feeble attempts and run the show like it’s a 7-on-7 drill. If you’re to defeat the master, you must rattle him. I’m talking, of course, about a member of the unbeaten New England Patriots – Bill Belichick.
I know, I know. You were expecting me to say Tom Brady. I would have, but as so many have pointedly informed me, I lack the football knowledge to offer any contribution towards his defeat. They would be eminently correct. At least in joining almost half the defensive coordinators in the NFL in that failure I am in exalted company. But Belichick, well, I have a plan for the media members that do battle with him during his post-game press conferences every week in the game extraneous to the game.
To begin, I must set the stage for a Bill Belichick press conference. If you were unaware, if this is perhaps your initial foray into the mouth of the lion, he doesn’t want to be there. Neither, really, as a member of the media, should you. You will be looked down upon, sneered at, have your head bitten off (so far only figuratively), and treated to a variety of answers that everyone in attendance has either heard before or read in the book Leave Me Alone: A tome of media discouraging football clichés.
You really could, and might want to, skip the whole affair and mail in your column inserting phrases like -- “we’re really now just thinking about (insert next week’s opponent here)” or, “we’re going to do what’s best for our football team.” Maybe you’ll be confronted with “it is what it is,” which is nothing more than another way of saying “next question” with the subtle undertones of “go screw.”
Every game contains comments that “we could have done better.” Next week’s contest involves a team that “does everything well: throws the ball, runs the ball, stops the run, defends the pass, sends their special teams units out at the appropriate times.” They play the ’85 Bears every week for the record. These are his primary reads, you understand. They’re his casual responses to your stock questions.
The lack of interesting fodder generated at a press conference is more your fault than his. Because, really, he’s winning. His goal is to thwart your attempts to gather and ultimately disseminate any information, proprietary or otherwise. Ask him if the sky is blue and he’ll, at the very least, be vague. For those that have reluctantly tread along the row of teeth in his dangerous yawning maw, you know this and that’s why you silently – or in the case of some: vociferously, stridently and clamorously -- hate him. With that said, if you want a real result or at least a confirmed verbal response, you certainly can’t continue to approach your questions with the indolence that has characterized them for years. It has become increasingly obvious, especially after the Giants' game where a reporter told Belichick that the record setting touchdown pass looked like the same play as the prior one and was lambasted for it, that asking meaningful, insightful football questions isn’t an option available to all. So, a different approach will be necessary.
But his shell is impenetrable you tell me. It was futile before. and now it’s the playoffs where he grows even more reticent. Your questions, no matter how well-phrased or thought out, clatter harmlessly to the floor at his feet. His demeanor is icy at the best of times and violently demeaning at the worst. What if he shoots you the “you’re not bright enough to be a tackling dummy look?” Well, here’s how you return fire. You salvo with a question that makes him think he heard you wrong or, at the very least, misunderstood you. Make him unsure of his footing.
Usually, asking him specific questions about the recently-contested game, like say a decision to pass the ball thirty-three straight times, results in another standard, the “we do what we always do” answer. But see if he can make a hot read on: “Coach Belichick, I noticed you ran a whole lot of triple option today (they obviously didn’t, but that’s inconsequential). Was that an attempt to get Brady on the edges of the defense where he can utilize his speed?” If a question is going to be inane, make it boldly so. Bring the house so to speak.
What’s the worst that can happen? He says “we do what we always do” and you can run a Patriots' headline that says “Belichik steals page from Dad’s old Navy playbook.” Maybe you’ll get lucky, and he’ll respond with something witty like, “Brady is so slow we don’t even make him run sprints at practice unless we have a bye week. You know, so he makes it to the game on time.” Bingo.
Imagine his possible responses to the following questions:
• “You’ve always prided yourself on your wardrobe. It has been a demonstrated priority right up there with winning football games. Does it bother you that other coaches sometimes wander onto the sidelines looking so slovenly? On a similar note, what designer are you wearing this evening?”
• “Tom Walsh, Randy’s offensive coordinator from last year, who also runs a fine B&B from all reports, claimed Randy was starting to lose it. Has there been any discussion of bringing him on staff given his stunning prescience?”
• “How is it that, even as head coaches of division rivals, you and Eric Mangini have been able to remain so close?”
• “So…Wes Welker’s moustache. What’d ya’ think? Thumbs up? Down? A little torn?”
• “A wise man once said ‘football is an individual sport. It’s a game of one man playing while ten others try not to get in his way. It’s a solo act. The only connection the players have is that they wear the same uniform.’ With that in mind, any players you’d like to identify for additional personal accolades?”
• “After taking another look at the combine footage of Tom Brady that the NFL Network showed us on their telecast, the footage that showed him moving with the ungainliness of a baby giraffe on a pair of legs that aspired to the girth of pipe cleaners, do you think you could have waited until the 7th round to pick him? Does it haunt you that you might have pulled the trigger prematurely?”
The thing is, as odd as these questions sound, you’re at least going to get some response. He has a wit. He understands sarcasm and appreciates it, even if you’re overstating it a bit. He might slip up and reveal a nugget of information that, if it doesn’t make you the winner of the exchange, at least means it ends in a draw. At worst, he leaves early. Where does that get you but to the locker room earlier where you can return to asking your tired questions of men as they exit the showers? On second thought, upon consideration of that worst case scenario, you should just go ahead and stretch out Bill’s press conference:
“Did you do anything new today, Bill?”
“We did what we always do.”
Maybe it’s better that the press conference proceeds in its timeworn groove. You’re at least more likely to retain your press pass. |
