The Bully-Boy Patriots

When I returned home to Boston in September 1985, after 20 years of wandering in the sports desert, my Uncle Jason bestowed upon me a New England Patriots ticket that was once my father's. So over 23 seasons now I have attended almost 200 games in Foxboro in primo seats—there is a reward for holding tickets since the very first season back in 1960—and my wife has accompanied me to the stadium on exactly zero occasions.

In other words, she's not much of a fan. Still, that didn't stop me from trying to explain the venom being directed at the Patriots for running up the score in a succession of lopsided victories (Patriots 49, Dolphins 28; Patriots 52, Redskins 7; Patriots 56, Bills 10). My wife, who by osmosis knows far more about sports than she wants to, looked completely puzzled. I tried once again to explain the ethical issues, and, while her expression didn't change, she started shaking her head. Finally, she blurted out, "What is this, high school?"

When the Patriots opened the season they were regarded as the model franchise, the most respected in the league and an exemplar when it came to team values. But the spying incident—"Videogate"—against the New York Jets in the opening game changed everything. Even though the incident, given its lack of secrecy, was more a reflection of neurosis than of skullduggery, the Patriots had traded in their white hats for black. And everything the undefeated team has done since has been viewed through that dark prism. Coach Belichick remains a genius, but now a sinister one, loosing a scorched-earth policy against his enemies—and those enemies are, of course, legion. Running up the score is about vengeance and nothing else.

As the bad form of the Patriots' bully-boy approach is ceaseless fodder for the media, all I keep thinking, to quote a sage, is, "What is this, high school?" It's clear that these accusations of ethical misconduct stem largely from burgeoning media resentment of Belichick—not just for his arrogance in the Videogate affair but also for his mirthless style, his clumsy, at times rude, behavior and his unwavering refusal to provide reporters with any useful information. It's obvious that there are plenty of reasons—beyond petty revenge—for the Pats to keep attacking into the fourth quarter, regardless of the score, and more occurred to me after listening to a candid quarterback Tom Brady discuss the subject on Boston's WEEI radio.

Intimidation! OK, it's not a pretty concept. But intimidation is at the heart of the NFL game, a factor in every matchup—team vs. team or one on one. Right now every talking head is making the case that the Patriots are unbeatable, quite possibly the best team in NFL history. That works to the Pats' advantage. They do not want to take their feet off the opposition's throats. They don't want to give future opponents even a glimpse of vulnerability.

Brady says a loss can be more than a loss. He notes that two seasons ago, when the Indianapolis Colts went 13-0 before losing to the San Diego Chargers, the Pittsburgh Steelers used a game plan similar to the Chargers' to whip the Colts in the playoffs. That's how, Brady says, one loss can turn into two losses.