Bill Belichick is the GOAT, but not the coach NFL teams should hire now

You know what the Los Angeles Chargers and Carolina Panthers absolutely cannot do this winter? Hire Bill Belichick.

Here’s what the five other owners who woke up Thursday morning to the end of the empire in New England can’t do either: Hire Bill Belichick.

Those franchises are already in turmoil, their locker rooms are in disarray. And the last thing needed to be injected atop the chain of command is this cold imposing figure, steadfast in his resolve to not adapt to the modern game and the new-age player, with a 29-38 record to show for it over the past four years.

The world has advanced, yet Belichick remains "on to Cincinnati" — and three yards and a cloud of dust.

Look at what happened against the Indianapolis Colts mid-season. New England’s offence had been hopeless as it boarded the plane to Frankfurt, and not much changed on Germany’s turf either. Trailing 7-3 in the fourth quarter, the Patriots finally managed to get inside the 10. On fourth-and-goal from the five, Belichick went for a field goal. The offence that hadn’t gotten that close to the end zone, didn’t again.

Logic, and every analytic in the 2023 world, screamed that you had to go for a touchdown on fourth down. But not Belichick. That’s how a 4-13 season happens in the fourth straight year of failure.

I mean, honestly: how can you make a case for Belichick being the answer to connect with Justin Herbert, who, with an innovative offensive running mate, can propel the Los Angeles offence into the most dynamic attack in the game. Herbert is 25. Has the bag and the tools. If you hand him Grumpy Bear, walking the aisles of Best Buy in search of typewriter ribbons and a new overhead projector, the Spanos family may as well move the franchise a third time — to Mars.

Carolina seems hopeless with their I’ll-splash-my-drink-on-you owner who seemingly learned from pre-insurrection Trump in The Apprentice on how to deal with coaches. They’ve given up everything but suite licences for Bryce Young, and at the age of 22 he needs to connect with someone who will fully be invested in him and the position and the stature that comes with being a No. 1 quarterback.

Not musical chairs of waiving Bailey Zappe, only to bring him back at Mac Jones’ expense. Not in a culture, where, as Danny Amendola put it the other day, “We worked for Bill, but we played forTom.”

It seems hard to say it because of who and what Belichick has been for two generations: The greatest defensive coordinator who was once the innovator on that side of the ball in New York for those two Giants’ Super Bowls under Parcells; the greatest head coach in the history of the game. In those first 19 years in New England, they weren’t the gold standard of football — the Patriots were the standard-bearer in sport.

Except the cracks in the foundation were evident, even at the tail end of the Super Bowl runs. As the game evolved into a high-flying passing existence, Belichick downright refused to invest into a legitimate stretch-the-field receiver after pushing Randy Moss out of the building more than a decade ago. Showed little value in what he had for talent inside the building, believing everyone was an interchangeable part — culture of the locker room be damned.

Trying to mask it as "The Patriot Way" got stale, and quick, even amidst the winning. It’s easy to forget how bad it got, even with Tom Terrific there. The lead-up to the Sunday night game in Brady’s last season at Gillette revealed how the beginning of the end was near.

Remember Brady’s line? “I have to be the most miserable 8-0 quarterback in the history of the league.”

This, after Brady “pleaded the fifth” in an interview with Jim Gray as to whether he felt appreciated in Foxborough.

And all arrows pointed back at Belichick, who spent more time gleefully discussing the long-snapper position at the podium than taking any accountability for his series of disastrous draft picks in the lead up to Brady boiling over. The Belichick shtick worked until it didn’t and when the dam burst, all hell broke loose.

You know the story from there: Brady won another ring in Tampa, the quarterback situation in New England got mismanaged every step of the way. Belichick put assistants not fit for roles into jobs they wouldn’t succeed in. The losses piled up. The Patriots quickly went from appointment television to hard to watch. Gillette Stadium looked empty on Sunday, Belichick’s last one coaching there, as it turned out.

Belichick never showed a willingness to conform to the Gen-Z player. He’d snort condescendingly about social media, calling it “SnapFace,” all the while it shaping narratives that even resonated in the locker room. Belichick’s resistance to change created in-house distractions. He still existed like it was yesteryear as the world moved on — way past Cincinnati.

And now, with his time in Massachusetts complete, of course Belichick wants to keep coaching because, like all coaches, he has this disease where he has to keep coaching because if he’s not coaching, he’s not quite sure what else there is to do. To say nothing of being 15 victories away from Don Shula’s all-time wins record. At the rate he’s regressed, it would take four more years for that milestone to be achieved.

If not for the Brinks trucks emptying bushels of cash on lawns in front of their taxpayer-funded stadiums, the main blind spot for every NFL owner is falling hard for the shiniest object in the room. Belichick once was that. He’s not anymore.

But owners are like coaches, they can’t help themselves. For the billionaires, it’s the shine and the sizzle grabbing them more than the substance and the steak. How predictable would it be for, say, an Arthur Blank to come calling, blindly hoping it gives Atlanta “instant credibility” in a marketplace — and new stadium — that desperately needs it.

Except Blank, and anyone else for that matter, won’t get what they think they’re paying for. It’ll be the same old band of Belichick and his sons, McDaniels and Judge and Patricia and the rest of the cronies, the ones who all left and didn’t get it done and have come back to operating the same way. They’ll have the smallest coaching staff. They’ll alienate. They’ll have Belichick the GM taking nickel corners high in the draft. Once revered for attention to detail in the kicking game, Belichick's special teams have fallen on their face of late. 

Eventually, the bronze statue of him in suburban Boston will feature the cut-off hoodie and a pencil over his ear, a challenge flag stuffed into the right sock. The plaque will read of all the Super Bowls and all the greatness.

And engraved on it should be, “No. 2 all-time winningest coach in NFL history.”

Because no owner should hire Bill Belichick. Not anymore.