Five Rings
Page 19
But there was plenty of reason to feel great about him coming to New England. As far as that last season in Oakland, it seemed directly analogous to Corey Dillon wanting out of Cincinnati. The Raiders were objectively terrible. They were 2–14 and Moss found himself running routes for Andrew Walter and Aaron Brooks. He was 29. Had never been to a Super Bowl. His career was passing him by in a way that even making $9 million a year wasn’t worth it to him.
Any lingering doubts anyone might have had that Moss was going to come to New England, disrupt the chemistry, care only about his stats, and be a clubhouse carcinogen were eased by the news that he had come to the Patriots and begged for the chance to help them win. He proved his commitment by cutting his pay from $9 million to $3 million. This was a Patriot Way move all the way, with no downside and an upside that was infinite.
Moss understood this arrangement was a whole new world not just for him, but also for the franchise he was now a part of. He announced his presence with authority at his first conference call. “You’re going to really see some things that you’ve never seen before,” he said. “And when it does happen, don’t say I didn’t tell you.”
The rest of the 2007 draft weekend was way less dramatic. They used the first-round pick they’d gotten from Seattle on U of Miami safety Brandon Meriweather. It seemed like yet another very un-Patriots selection, given that what we knew about Meriweather was that he had a reputation for taking ridiculously cheap personal foul penalties and that he had once been involved in a shooting incident on campus, but wasn’t charged because whoever was in the car he shot at fired first, and he legally owned the gun he was carrying. Somehow that was less comforting than the Wilforks needing something to wash their baby clothes in.
The other draft move was sending their own pick, the 28th, to San Francisco for the fourth rounder they used on Moss and the 49ers first pick the following year. So really this draft was all about adding Welker and Moss, a slot guy and one of the best receivers of all time, to a team that was minutes away from going to a Super Bowl.
Through training camp, there wasn’t much going on. Moss battled a couple of nagging injuries that kept him out of all the preseason games. Throughout that summer, other Boston teams were making much more noise than the Pats were. The Red Sox had made a huge splash the previous winter, spending $100 million to sign pitcher Daisuke Matsuzaka out of the Japanese League. (And at Barstool, we wasted no time printing him onto multiple T-shirts and celebrated Opening Day by putting an Asian model holding a “Dice-K” sign on our cover.) The Sox were loaded and had spent the entire summer in first place. Then in July, the Celtics swiped the spotlight from everyone with a series of moves. First, they signed one of the best pure shooters of his generation, Ray Allen, away from the Supersonics. Then they leveraged that move to convince Kevin Garnett of the Timberwolves to waive his no-trade clause, forming a Big Three of Allen, Garnett, and Celtics captain Paul Pierce. Overnight, the Celts went from an irrelevant, hopeless, below-average team to an instant contender.
So as hard as it is to believe, as the 2007 season opened, it was actually hard for the Patriots to get much in the way of attention. That situation would not last for long.
21
Your Team Cheats (or Asterisks Like Ninja Stars)
The 2007 season had a nice start to it. While it lasted.
The Patriots opened in the Meadowlands against Eric Mangini and the Jets. It was our first look at the new toy that was Randy Moss, and the early returns were nothing short of spectacular.
The Jets simply could not stop him. Tom Brady targeted him nine times and he caught all nine for 183 yards. The highlight was a 51-yard touchdown reception over the Jets’ new toy, rookie cornerback Darrelle Revis, whom they’d drafted with the 14th overall pick out of Pittsburgh. In all, Brady was 22 for 28 for just under 300 yards and three touchdowns, the first of which was to Wes Welker. The final was a convincing 38–17 win. If that was what giving a great quarterback elite receivers to throw to looked like, then the future looked unlimited.
The next morning I was writing about the game for Barstool as I do every week, and was too caught up in finding adjectives for Moss that I was late on a story one of the other writers got to first. Something about the Jets accusing the Patriots of videotaping their coaches while they were sending in signals on the sidelines. I’ll confess to you that I’ve never misjudged a story so much in my life.
Honestly, I thought almost nothing of it. Just one of those “Well that’s an interesting little side story” things. A little gamesmanship going on. The football version of a runner on second base trying to steal the catcher’s signs to the pitcher. The kind of thing that goes on all the time in sports. I think my first reaction was literally, “Der. Of course they’re trying to steal signals. That’s why you use signals.”
I thought it would blow over in a day, maybe two, and then be forgotten about forever. It took me half the week to realize the size and scope of what we were dealing with. It was like I’d heard a banging noise outside and thought it was a car misfiring or a trash can getting blown over and never looked out the window to see the mushroom cloud rising over the landscape.
The world went ballistic. In no time at all, it became a full-blown “scandal,” complete with its own instant nickname: Spygate. And despite me thinking it would have a shelf life of a day or two, it still gets talked about a decade later.
With Super Bowl XXXVI tied and time running out, everyone expected the Patriots to play for overtime. They decided otherwise. And a dynasty was born. Courtesy of the New England Patriots
Accepting the trophy for the first championship in the Patriots’ 41 years of existence, Robert Kraft told a post–9/11 nation, “Tonight, we are all Patriots.” The following season those words would be chiseled in granite at his team’s brand new stadium. Courtesy of the New England Patriots / David Silverman
Tedy Bruschi holds the Lamar Hunt Trophy after a win over the 15–1 Steelers in Pittsburgh gives the Patriots their third AFC championship in four years. “We don’t lose T-shirt and hat games.” Courtesy of the New England Patriots / David Silverman
Tom Brady delivers a pass against the Philadelphia Eagles in Super Bowl XXXIX. Deion Branch would win the game’s MVP award and several Patriots, including Brady, would win their third ring. Courtesy of the New England Patriots / David Silverman
With the Patriots clinging to a 3-point lead, Rodney Harrison intercepts Eagles’ quarterback Donovan McNabb to seal the win in Super Bowl XXXIX. Courtesy of the New England Patriots / David Silverman
After winning their third ring in four years, the Patriots team paper declares them a dynasty. Courtesy of the New England Patriots / Keith Nordstrom
Bill Belichick and Robert Kraft in what had become a familiar sight in the streets of Boston by 2005: a parade of duck boats. Two years earlier a Patriots beat writer had called the coach “duplicitous pond scum” and the owner had been widely criticized for hiring him. Courtesy of the New England Patriots / Keith Nordstrom
In what is arguably the most significant single play in NFL regular-season history, Randy Moss hauls in his record 23rd touchdown reception, Tom Brady collects his record 50th touchdown pass, and the Patriots become the only 16–0 team in the league. Courtesy of the New England Patriots / Keith Nordstrom
Tedy Bruschi hoists New England’s fourth Lamar Hunt Trophy of the 21st century and their sixth overall after beating the San Diego Chargers at Gillette Stadium to go 18–0. Unfortunately they’d suffer the most painful loss in team history to the New York Giants in Super Bowl XLII. Courtesy of the New England Patriots / Keith Nordstrom
Patriots fans celebrate the only perfect regular season of the 16-game era. The celebration would be short-lived. Courtesy of the New England Patriots / Keith Nordstrom
Against the Seattle Seahawks’ NFL-best defense in Super Bowl XLIX, Rob Gronkowski takes advantage of a mismatch against linebacker K. J. Wright as Julian Edelman looks on. Courtesy of the New England Patriots
/ Keith Nordstrom
Bill Belichick prowls the sidelines in the Super Bowl against Seattle, planning the Jedi Mind Trick that will force a crucial error by the Seahawks’ coaching staff. Courtesy of the New England Patriots / David Silverman
Rookie backup cornerback Malcolm Butler saves Super Bowl XLIX with a goal-line interception. And “Malcolm GO!” becomes a catchphrase for the ages. Courtesy of the New England Patriots
Nobody has ever had more fun at a duck boat parade than Rob Gronkowski. Courtesy of the New England Patriots
From left to right, Patriots Hall of Famers Willie McGinest, Robert Kraft, Ty Law, and Troy Brown present the team’s four Lombardi trophies at the 2015 season opener. Courtesy of the New England Patriots / David Silverman
LeGarrette Blount gives the fans at Gillette a look at the Patriots’ ninth Lamar Hunt Trophy after leading his team to a conference title game win over the Steelers. Courtesy of the New England Patriots
Julian Edelman feeling all the feels after Bill Belichick tells him the official review is over and they are Super Bowl LI champions. Courtesy of the New England Patriots
The Patriots win their fifth Super Bowl after falling behind 28–3, a deficit that gave them a 0.4 percent chance of winning. Courtesy of the New England Patriots / David Silverman
Tom Brady’s 2016 season began with his mother battling cancer, a federal court case against the NFL, and a four-game suspension. It ended in triumph. Courtesy of the New England Patriots / Keith Nordstrom
The greatest comeback ever gives Robert and Jonathan Kraft their fifth title. Robert calls it “unequivocally the sweetest.” Courtesy of the New England Patriots
What happened was this: The Patriots had a video assistant named Matt Estrella who wore credentials that allowed him to tape the game, as all teams did. Article 9 of the NFL rules stated that videotaping was allowed, but only from the designated area in every stadium, a section covered by a roof and accessible only to official team personnel.
The restrictions had been in place for years, but were routinely violated by most teams, with cameramen going outside the allowed area to get better angles. Officials in charge of such things largely ignored it. However, the league had been begun cracking down, and had sent everyone a memo explaining they’d be enforcing the restrictions from here on out. It was a memo the Patriots ignored. And Eric Mangini knew it, because they did it when he was working there. The coaching staff liked to go over the tapes later to see if they could match up the signals to play calls and get an edge in later meetings. Again, it’s the reason you use signals instead of just scream, “Cover 4, Double A-Gap Blitz!!!” for all to hear.
Besides, this was 2007, so easily 75 percent of the people in attendance had devices in their pockets that could easily record anything that happened, anywhere in the stadium. But the Patriots had a guy with a stadium pass standing among them with a team-issued camera. Let’s go get him!
So Mangini told his staff to be on the lookout for the violation, and sure enough, Estrella was caught by security, who took his pass, confiscated his camera, and led him away. Somehow the Patriots were able to eke out the 21-point blowout win in his absence. But within hours, the story got around. And within minutes after that, the whole country lapsed into mass hysteria.
To me, it was like the local police telling everyone they’re setting up a speed trap in the 35-mph zone, but the Patriots cruised through it at 45 anyway and got caught. Stupid? Of course. Arrogant? Sure, why not? But worth something other than a ticket and maybe an insurance fine? Positively not.
But in an instant, most of the whole football world responded by saying everything the Patriots had accomplished was suspect. All three Super Bowls were tainted. Players and coaches they’d beaten, past and present, were crawling out of the woodwork to say, “See! This is why we lost to them! They cheated!” It was as if someone were giving out Insane Overreaction of the Day Awards, with huge cash prizes.
One man who managed to pull off the appropriate response without the hysteria was Bill Belichick’s boss. In a moment that would often be talked about, Robert Kraft had his coach into his office and asked him if the story about the rules violation was true. Belichick confirmed it was. So Kraft asked him to rate on a scale of 1 to 10 how much the videotaping helped him win games. “About a one,” he was told. “Well, then, you’re a schmuck,” Kraft said.
One other guy who was not in on the overreaction was the man who started it all, Eric Mangini. He has said repeatedly ever since that all he wanted to do was to stop his old coach from getting the upper hand on him and had no intention of unleashing the fury that followed.
I’ll interject here that for a lifelong Patriots fan writing for a rapidly growing Internet outlet like Barstool Sports, this whole situation was gold. This was everything a population of outsiders like us and our readers could’ve hoped for. The team that rewarded us with unimaginable success coming under fire? The very championships they’d brought to us called into question? I could not have drawn it up any better.
I’m fairly certain that I took the opportunity to write about Dante’s Inferno, in which Hell is depicted as nine concentric circles. The deeper you go into the circles, the more severe the crime. So the outermost circle is Limbo, the unbaptized and virtuous Pagans, and such. By the fourth circle, you’re into the Greedy. And so on. And by the innermost circle, you’ll find the Betrayers. Mutineers. The ones who betrayed the trust given to them. In the center of which you’ll find Judas, stuck in a frozen lake for eternity with his eyes open to see what he had done to the world. That is where I had Eric Mangini.
Or I might have just called him “the Fredo Corleone of football.” Or what everyone else was calling him, which was “Mangina.” I just know I was not in a forgiving mood.
And yet it was a great position to be in. As I said, Pats fans were getting really good at this business of defending the team against the anti-Patriots forces, from within and without. There were so many accusations against the team that discredited everything they’d accomplished that some Patriots supporters started a website called YourTeamCheats.com, which keeps track of every allegation against each NFL team, measured on a scale of video cameras. New England has consistently ranked near the bottom of the league in all categories.
The Internet also went wild with anti-Patriots memes. Their pictures on boxes of cereal called “Cheaties.” The Patriots logo holding a video camera up to its eye. Belichick wearing night-vision goggles, and so on. For all I know, the price of Photoshop stock probably quadrupled.
Belichick publicly apologized without actually admitting any wrongdoing, instead citing his “interpretation of the rules.” He believed the videos were allowed, as long as they weren’t to be used that day, because the language in the rule read, “any communications or information-gathering equipment, other than Polaroid-type cameras or field telephones, shall be prohibited . . . including without limitation . . . any other form of electronic devices that might aid a team during the playing of a game.” Everyone else in football read it differently.
For my part, I started a regular feature of “Bulletin Board Fodder,” responding to anyone in the NFL who overexaggerated the cheating claims. Chief among them was the Colts’ Tony Dungy, who sanctimoniously compared Spygate to Barry Bonds’s steroid allegations and said the Patriots deserve asterisks on all their championships.
Dungy was not alone. Victims of the Patriots’ success were throwing asterisks at them like Ninja stars. Joey Porter of the Steelers was particularly vocal, claiming that the Patriots robbed his team of two trips to the Super Bowl, apparently thinking that Matt Estrella’s camera position in 2007 made him drop that sure game-winning pick-6 from Drew Bledsoe six seasons earlier.
I’ll point out that not everyone lost their mind. Porter’s own former coach Bill Cowher came right out and said the losses to New England in the playoffs had nothing to do with cheating and everything to do with being outplayed.
Former Dolphins coach Jimmy John
son said, “This is exactly how I was told to do it 18 years ago by a Kansas City Chiefs scout. . . . Bill Belichick was wrong because he videotaped signals after a memo was sent out to all of the teams saying not to do it. But what irritates me is hearing some reactions from players and coaches [who] have selective amnesia. Because I know for a fact there were various teams doing this.”
For his part, Commissioner Roger Goodell did not buy into the “everybody was doing it,” argument. He issued a ruling that came down hard on the head coach and the team. Belichick was personally fined $500,000, the maximum allowed against a coach and the first time a fine that big had ever been assessed. Robert Kraft was fined an additional $250,000, even though he had nothing to do with it. And the team was docked one of its first-round draft picks. To me, this was taking that speeding ticket I referenced earlier and turning it into a felony conviction.
Unfortunately, I’m not an heir to either the Kraft or the Belichick fortunes, so I couldn’t get overly worked up about the excessive fines. But the loss of a top draft pick was outrageous. No team had been slapped with a penalty that severe since the 1971 Dolphins. To me, it was all about placating the other franchises who resented the Patriots’ success and were rushing to chalk it all up to this one low-level employee pointing a camera from a place he should not have been pointing it.