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[SIZE=+2]Richard Oliver: Belichick's big penalty may be tainted legacy
[/SIZE] [SIZE=-1]Web Posted: 09/15/2007 08:32 PM CDT
[/SIZE] [SIZE=-1]Richard Oliver
Express-News Staff Writer[/SIZE]
First, let's be perfectly clear. Bill Belichick was nowhere near Las Vegas the other night when O.J. Simpson allegedly filched sports memorabilia from a casino hotel room.
The New England Patriots head coach wasn't on hand when they robbed Kanye West of a Video Music Award, Greg Oden of his mobility or Britney Spears of her underwear.
No, Belichick may steal wives and enemy game plans, but even an evil mastermind can't be everywhere at once.
Still, judging from the backlash from this week's revelation that the Pats stationed a cameraman on their sideline to film the rival Jets' defensive signals, it's a wonder the former Tuna helper hasn't been blamed for global warming and the spike in oil prices.
In the wake of commissioner Roger Goodell's fitting discipline of Belichick and the New England franchise, including hefty fines and the loss of one or more high 2008 draft picks, there has been much pontification over the potential effect on the obscure integrity of the game.
But, in truth, the only impact is to Belichick's rich legacy, badly damaged by an astonishingly inept decision.
Having a minion, standing in plain view and bathed in a sunny spotlight, aim a video camera at the opposing coaches during a ballgame is a bungle ranking right up there with holding Monday night doubleheaders.
Belichick, of all geniuses, should have known better.
Most coaches — and such guile is widespread — hide those filmmakers in a suite or end-zone seats.
The Patriots already had been warned against using such brazen tactics last year, and other teams and players have long suspected Belichick of employing nefarious means to get an edge. Well, more nefarious than everyone else, anyway.
Such cheating, you see, is as much a part of the league's landscape as facemasks and cheerleader decolletage.
"Sure, you have guys looking across the sideline trying to figure out what the signal is going to be," Browns coach Romeo Crennel, a longtime assistant alongside Belichick with the Giants, Jets and Patriots, admitted to reporters. "Everybody looks across the field to see if they can determine what the signals are. But that doesn't necessarily help you. Your guys still have to go play and they still have to make the plays themselves."
Indeed, through the use of binoculars, spies, interrogation of waived players, Ouija boards and everything but digital satellite linkups, teams will work for an advantage. Thousands are invested each week on technology and personnel to break down the fist pumps, waggling fingers and gesticulations that signal defensive alignments.
Using a video camera, however, is considered verboten, a violation of an unwritten gentlemen's agreement along the lines of stealing a catcher's signs in baseball.
But does it truly help? Any team worth its jock straps doesn't keep the same signals from week to week, much less from game to game against division rivals.
To deduce that New England's recent dynastic surge is suddenly tainted by Belichick's startling arrogance last weekend is to question the Spurs' championship timber because of referee Tim Donaghy's malfeasance.
It's a ridiculous leap born of desperate rationalization.
As Crennel suggested, players still have to make the plays. And, in the case of the Spurs and Patriots, they do so better than anyone else.
In the end, Belichick was penalized for a laundry list of sins, from his rebel sideline wardrobe to his surly disposition. He's not Tony Dungy, and that's crime enough in an increasingly Disney-fied NFL universe.
The result shapes the perception of the Pats coach today, smudging his Hall of Fame credentials.
The best remedy would be another, presumably legitimate, championship run.
Then everyone can judge for themselves. It will all be right there on video.
roliver@express-news.net
[/SIZE] [SIZE=-1]Web Posted: 09/15/2007 08:32 PM CDT
[/SIZE] [SIZE=-1]Richard Oliver
Express-News Staff Writer[/SIZE]
First, let's be perfectly clear. Bill Belichick was nowhere near Las Vegas the other night when O.J. Simpson allegedly filched sports memorabilia from a casino hotel room.
The New England Patriots head coach wasn't on hand when they robbed Kanye West of a Video Music Award, Greg Oden of his mobility or Britney Spears of her underwear.
No, Belichick may steal wives and enemy game plans, but even an evil mastermind can't be everywhere at once.
Still, judging from the backlash from this week's revelation that the Pats stationed a cameraman on their sideline to film the rival Jets' defensive signals, it's a wonder the former Tuna helper hasn't been blamed for global warming and the spike in oil prices.
In the wake of commissioner Roger Goodell's fitting discipline of Belichick and the New England franchise, including hefty fines and the loss of one or more high 2008 draft picks, there has been much pontification over the potential effect on the obscure integrity of the game.
But, in truth, the only impact is to Belichick's rich legacy, badly damaged by an astonishingly inept decision.
Having a minion, standing in plain view and bathed in a sunny spotlight, aim a video camera at the opposing coaches during a ballgame is a bungle ranking right up there with holding Monday night doubleheaders.
Belichick, of all geniuses, should have known better.
Most coaches — and such guile is widespread — hide those filmmakers in a suite or end-zone seats.
The Patriots already had been warned against using such brazen tactics last year, and other teams and players have long suspected Belichick of employing nefarious means to get an edge. Well, more nefarious than everyone else, anyway.
Such cheating, you see, is as much a part of the league's landscape as facemasks and cheerleader decolletage.
"Sure, you have guys looking across the sideline trying to figure out what the signal is going to be," Browns coach Romeo Crennel, a longtime assistant alongside Belichick with the Giants, Jets and Patriots, admitted to reporters. "Everybody looks across the field to see if they can determine what the signals are. But that doesn't necessarily help you. Your guys still have to go play and they still have to make the plays themselves."
Indeed, through the use of binoculars, spies, interrogation of waived players, Ouija boards and everything but digital satellite linkups, teams will work for an advantage. Thousands are invested each week on technology and personnel to break down the fist pumps, waggling fingers and gesticulations that signal defensive alignments.
Using a video camera, however, is considered verboten, a violation of an unwritten gentlemen's agreement along the lines of stealing a catcher's signs in baseball.
But does it truly help? Any team worth its jock straps doesn't keep the same signals from week to week, much less from game to game against division rivals.
To deduce that New England's recent dynastic surge is suddenly tainted by Belichick's startling arrogance last weekend is to question the Spurs' championship timber because of referee Tim Donaghy's malfeasance.
It's a ridiculous leap born of desperate rationalization.
As Crennel suggested, players still have to make the plays. And, in the case of the Spurs and Patriots, they do so better than anyone else.
In the end, Belichick was penalized for a laundry list of sins, from his rebel sideline wardrobe to his surly disposition. He's not Tony Dungy, and that's crime enough in an increasingly Disney-fied NFL universe.
The result shapes the perception of the Pats coach today, smudging his Hall of Fame credentials.
The best remedy would be another, presumably legitimate, championship run.
Then everyone can judge for themselves. It will all be right there on video.
roliver@express-news.net