Patriot Reign

by Michael Holley

  When Antowain Smith scored seven seconds into the fourth to make it 21–10, it was time to bury the Panthers again. The Patriots weren’t going to blow an 11-point lead, were they? They would in this game of sudden eruptions. “One of the great Super Bowls of all time,” wrote Boston Herald columnist Gerry Callahan, “broke out like a fistfight in the middle of morning Mass.”

  Foster had scored on a 33-yard run—Carolina went for a 2-point conversion and failed—and Brady had thrown an interception at the Carolina 2. With the Patriots still leading 21–16, Wilson guessed wrong again and literally got hurt along the way. The Patriots defensive backs had been told that if Delhomme was looking in one direction, he would probably throw in that same direction. So on third-and-10 from his 15, Delhomme looked right. Wilson followed his eyes and cheated right with him. The quarterback couldn’t find anything. The play was officially broken. He began to freestyle, and Muhammad was smart enough to freestyle with him. The play wasn’t meant to be a GO route, but it became one, and Wilson was in no position to stop it. Eighty-five yards and a missed tackle later, the Panthers had the lead. Wilson was out of the game with a torn groin. Again, the Panthers went for 2 and failed. But they led 22–21.

  “Motherfucker!” Brady shouted from the sideline. “I can’t believe we’re losing.”

  Brady had gained so much respect from his teammates by pointing out his own errors. His management style was not to berate following a mistake. He liked to mention that the next play was a good opportunity to correct any previous errors. That’s what he did after his interception. He began at his 32, mixed five completions with three runs, and led the Patriots to the Carolina 1. That’s when the comedian, Vrabel, checked in as an eligible receiver.

  “Holla at your boy,” Vrabel said in the huddle.

  It was not a problem. All Vrabel had to do was hold on to the 1-yard pass, and he did. When Faulk took a direct snap and ran up the middle for the 2-point conversion, it was 29–22 New England. But there was too much time and not enough resistance in this fourth quarter. Wilson was down, and the other safety, Harrison, would soon follow. Harrison broke his arm with just over two minutes left and remained in the game to make the next tackle. He was every bit the player New England expected when they signed him in March 2003, but he could not defy his body. His right arm was drooping, and it was impossible for him to stay in the game like that.

  Delhomme went to work on the defense, a defense that was mottled by injuries and mistakes. With seventy-three seconds left, a misunderstanding—Asante Samuel was playing zone when he should have been in man—led to a 12-yard Ricky Proehl touchdown. It was Proehl who had scored the final St. Louis touchdown in Super Bowl XXXVI to tie the score at 17. He was part of a different tie this time: 29 apiece.

  “Well, you asked for it,” Huard said to Brady before walking away. He did ask for it. He had talked about it on the way to practice on Friday. But this was much deeper than Friday. This went back to Ann Arbor, when he believed he was entitled to run the two-minute drill perfectly. If he were going to be a quarterback, he would have to be skilled at this drill. It’s the same way some musicians feel about playing the standards. There are certain crowd- pleasers that have to be in your rotation if you’re going to make it in the business.

  He was calm. He didn’t know most of the 71,525 people here, but this didn’t count as an anonymous crowd that could make him nervous. This was still football, and no matter how much importance was placed on this game, it was his game. And, oh, it really belonged to him after Kasay made the biggest mistake of his career. He kicked off, and the ball landed out of bounds. So now twenty-six- year-old Tom Brady, who was already the MVP of one Super Bowl, was a couple of completions away from snatching another one. He was going to begin at his own 40 and have sixty-eight seconds to perform.

  Time for the drill. Weis’s voice was in his helmet, and that’s all he could hear. He was operating from the shotgun. He missed on his first pass, “O Out Cluster 146 Z Option X Deep Return,” and then connected with Brown for 13 yards to the Panthers’ 47. He wasn’t flustered when a 20-yard completion was taken away from him and Brown was called for offensive interference. “Tommy,” he heard Weis shout into the helmet. “ ‘Gun Trips Left 259 Max Squirrel X IN.’ ” He was going back to Brown, for 13, and back on the Carolina side of the field.

  Rob Ryan was right. Brady was similar to Belichick in the way he was able to think quickly without reacting too quickly. He’d take what he was given. Four yards to Graham, and he was at the 40 with fourteen seconds left. He took a timeout there and still had one left. On third-and-3 from the 40, he picked up 17 yards in five seconds. The play was “Gun Trips Right 80 Rock OPEQ.” Deion Branch caught the pass, and New England used its final timeout.

  There were nine seconds left. Nine seconds left, and suddenly it was as if a photographer were trying to recreate a family photo from a couple of years ago. No, you were standing over there the last time. Remember? Gil Santos was once again describing the scene to listeners in New England. Robert Kraft and his family were in their box. Some coaches were above the field, and others were standing on the sideline. Just like the last time. Nine seconds left, and this time the only difference was that they were more complete than they were in New Orleans. They knew how it felt to win and then be pushed back to mediocrity. They were wise men now, capable of telling you about the joys and burdens of winning. Who among them would take this for granted? Not after what they had seen since February 2002: a new stadium, new teammates, dismissed veterans, frustrating games, loved ones gone too soon.

  Vinatieri took the field stuffing his size 11s into a size 9 shoe. There would be no slippage that way. It was going to be foot on ball for ultimate accuracy. This attempt was going to be 7 yards shorter than his winning kick at the Superdome. There would be no talking this time as he walked on the field—the line of scrimmage just on the nose of the 24—and began to create another piece for his collection. The snap was straight, the hold was clean, the kick relieved stress. It was high and good, once again, just like the last time.

  In the postgame happiness, there were still harsh words that needed to be said. Belichick was asked twice by ESPN reporters to do one-on-one interviews. Twice he declined. There were celebrations and tears everywhere. The Patriots had won 15 games in a row, allowing them to consider a couple of questions with no wrong answers: How great were they, historically? And which of their two trophies, fingerprinted by family and friends, carried the better story?

  Belichick would talk about these things with others, but not, initially, with ESPN. When his friend Chris Berman personally asked him to appear on the air, however, Belichick couldn’t turn him down. They walked on the Reliant Stadium field, passing a few workers and television reporters doing stand-ups. On the set Belichick saw Tom Jackson. The coach didn’t want to be diplomatic. He still didn’t like the way the comment from September was handled, and winning the Super Bowl wasn’t going to change his mind about that. Jackson extended his hand to Belichick. The coach looked at him and said, “Fuck you.” It was left at that. Belichick went on the air with Berman— Jackson did not join them—and eventually returned to his suite at the Inter-Continental.

  The hotel’s Discovery Ballroom was where the team party was being held. A proud Tedy Bruschi walked the perimeter of the room, clutching the trophy and allowing fans to touch it. He was smiling and looking for people who wanted to be close to the trophy but didn’t have the chance. Some of the musicians from Brady’s iPod playlist—Kid Rock, Aerosmith, Snoop Dogg—performed at the party.

  Well after midnight Hochstein was spotted walking around the hotel. He was jubilant and drunk, and he waved when a few people called his name. “Hey,” he slurred. “Where is Warren Sapp now? Fat motherfucker.” He laughed. He had been waiting to get that out for a while. He was a champion, on a team of unlikely champions.

  But then, didn’t it all make sense that the Patriots would finish like this? This was a team led by a man wh
o sees a link between high production and preparation. He is a man who was raised near an academy where men and women always talk of teamwork and excellence. He took the parts of the structure he liked and fashioned a life in which he would always seek a person’s ideas first.

  He can never be accused of being distracted by superficial things. Some of his friends are famous and some are not. Some are conservative and some are liberal. He has talked with presidents and prisoners alike. He has made decisions that have been interpreted many ways, but he is not concerned with shaping the interpretations. He is a lover of many things, but football occupies him. He wants to work with people who care about this sport as much as he does. So he has reached out to Robert Kraft, Scott Pioli, Ernie Adams, Eric Mangini, Tom Brady, Richard Seymour, Tedy Bruschi, and Willie McGinest. Anyone can join the club. You just need to have the mind and heart for working. And winning.

  EPILOGUE

  On the noon plane from Houston’s Ellington Field to Boston’s Logan Airport—the plane carrying the Super Bowl champions—there still was work to be done. Belichick began some of it by talking with outside linebackers coach Rob Ryan. He told Ryan that the Oakland Raiders had called, and they were asking about him.

  The Raiders were looking for a defensive coordinator, and he was one of the candidates. Belichick reminded Ryan that he always had a home in New England, a statement that made the assistant coach smile. But the idea of leading a defense was exciting to him. He was the same kid who once described himself and his twin brother Rex as “the thugs of Canada” when they were living with their mother there. When the twins moved back to the States to live with their famous father, Buddy, they still had some rough edges. Rob remembers taking the ACT for Rex while his brother went fishing. He was the same young man who loaded Burger King trucks for extra money, who once said that the only nonfootball job that appealed to him was border patrol, who had spent so much time working that he and his wife, Kristin, “never had a honeymoon.”

  If the job were offered, he would have to take it. It was, and he did. (He and Kristin also got their honeymoon: Willie McGinest, who was selected to the Pro Bowl, paid their way to Honolulu.) Ryan left the coaching staff, and so did John Hufnagel, the quarterbacks coach who had been in Foxboro for a season. Hufnagel became the offensive coordinator of the New York Giants. The Patriots were and are loaded with coaches who could lead their own Cabinets, but not everyone got the call he sought. Coordinators Charlie Weis and Romeo Crennel interviewed for head- coaching jobs before the play-offs started, and both, remarkably, were passed over. Belichick knew both men were capable of running teams and implementing original ideas. He also knew he was going to have to do a lot of managerial balancing in the next several months.

  There were going to be qualified people—Weis, Crennel, Mangini—performing jobs that they were close to outgrowing. There were going to be tough decisions to make on free agents. Antowain Smith, the back who ran well in two Super Bowls, did not have the option year in his contract picked up by the team. Damien Woody, the team’s most talented offensive lineman, was not re-signed and moved on to Detroit. “I’ll never forget what I experienced in New England,” Woody says. “I hadn’t been on a team like that since high school. We would hang out together, have fun, and hold each other accountable. It’s something that can never be taken away from me.”

  Ted Washington, who had been close to resigning with the Patriots, got a better deal in Oakland and followed Ryan there. Cornerback Ty Law, who intercepted Peyton Manning three times in the AFC Championship game, said he no longer wanted to be a Patriot. Law didn’t believe he had contract security—given what had happened to Lawyer Milloy—and wanted the Patriots to do something to put him at ease. Both sides talked about a new contract, but a stalemate became public in the second week of March. Law said Belichick lied to him about negotiating and added that the love was gone in New England. He was tired of many things—such as the Patriots’ refusal to pay his off-season workout bonus, even though he didn’t work out in Foxboro. His contention was that the previous management team, led by Bobby Grier, gave him the bonus anyway.

  Belichick released brief statements on some of the transactions and offered no comments on others. He was amused, for the second April in a row, when his team was mentioned in a move-up-in-the-draft rumor with the Detroit Lions. He was supposedly after University of Miami safety Sean Taylor, a rookie he would have to pay more than Milloy and Rodney Harrison if he traded up to get him. And if he did that, he and Scott Pioli would have to make an exception to the draft advice Belichick had received from Jimmy Johnson on his boat, which was to write down all the players you wanted on your team, whether they were in round one or round seven. Belichick had listened to that advice in 2003. He walked away with one of the best drafts in Patriots history.

  He applied the same theory to the draft of 2004. He sat at his Gillette Stadium computer and wrote down the names of twenty-five college players he wanted to see on the Patriots. He put them into two categories: first- and second-day draftees. If he and Pioli needed to move up and get a specific player, they had enough capital—or picks—to control the draft board. They had already traded one of their second-round picks to Cincinnati for running back Corey Dillon to replace Antowain Smith. They had also given up a sixth-rounder for defensive lineman Rodney Bailey, who had played the 2003 season in Pittsburgh and would now add depth to their defensive line. Now they had a plan to strengthen the Patriots with draft choices.

  The Patriots held two picks in the first round, numbers 21 and 32. At the top of Belichick’s list were four players the Patriots should consider moving up for from 21: cornerbacks DeAngelo Hall and Dunta Robinson, defensive tackle Vince Wilfork, and linebacker Jonathan Vilma. Next, he had written “My Card,” with “guys I would like to have on 1st day and 2nd day” in parentheses. His first-day card included two tight ends, Ben Watson and Kris Wilson. Three offensive linemen—Chris Snee, Travelle Wharton, and Sean Bubin—were on the list. In addition to Wilfork, he listed nose tackles Marcus Tubbs and Isaac Sopoaga. His linebackers were D. J. Williams, Dontarrious Thomas, and Jason Babin. If he couldn’t get Hall or Robinson on the first day, he thought Ahmad Carroll would be a good choice at corner. Taylor was not one of his safeties, but Guss Scott, Madieu Williams, and Dexter Reid were. He rounded out his first-day list with running back Kevin Jones and defensive end Marquise Hill.

  Unlike 2003, when the Patriots were dealing to secure their targets, they were quiet in 2004. It was one of those Aprils in which the board was unfolding favorably. They didn’t have to move to get what they wanted. Wilfork fell to them at 21, and Watson was there at 32. Snee, Thomas, and Madieu Williams all went to other teams in the second round, but the Patriots were able to get Hill with the 63rd overall pick. Wharton went to the Panthers at number 94, but Scott was right behind him for New England at 95.

  That was it for the first day, and three high-priority players—Reid, Sopoaga, and Bubin—remained on the board for the Patriots to select. Day two was impressive: Reid, Christian Morton, Cedric Cobbs, and P. K. Sam—Belichick had written of Sam, “This will be a cheap receiver for four years if we are right”—were drafted. All had been on the coach’s list.

  It said it right there, in black and white, that the off- season had begun successfully. Jimmy Johnson would have been proud. There was another trophy added to the collection on the second floor, which really meant that there was another piece of hardware to defend. The 2004 Patriots would have to protect their championship and their standing as one of the smartest, fairest franchises in professional sports.

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  This is my first book, and it wouldn’t exist if it weren’t for dozens of smart, supportive, and visionary people. I realize I just put a lot of pressure on myself with that phrasing— I’m almost guaranteed to forget someone who deserves to be mentioned. But honestly, there isn’t enough space to thank the people who made this book come to life. Mauro DiPreta, my editor, tops the list. He did
a brilliant job of listening to the original idea and then expanding and organizing it until it became what you are now holding. My literary agent, Basil Kane, had confidence in the manuscript, even when the 2002 Patriots won nine games and the project appeared to be doomed. I’d like to thank the New England Patriots, a secure organization that granted me access without ever asking for or even hinting at editorial control. The Kraft, Belichick, Pioli, and Najarian families were especially helpful and generous with their time. Eric Mangini was kind enough to teach me defensive concepts on Friday afternoons. The other assistant coaches, scouts, and players were notably professional as an outsider peeked into their world.

  Instead of naming each of my family members, I’ll just thank my crew—the Holleys, Sales, Soberanises, and Robinsons—for their support.

  There are many others to thank. Among them: Terry Pluto, Armen Keteyian, Don Skwar, Stacey James, Joe Amorosino, Jay Muraco, Joanne Chang and the crew at Flour Bakery + Café, the Boston Globe , Michael Smith, Ross Carey, Joelle Yudin, Karilyn Crockett, Nick Carparelli, Bob Quinn, Michael Price, Kari Barclift, Golden Touch Secretarial Services, Jackie MacMullan, Dr. Katharine Henderson and Point Park University, and Amanda Abreu. I’m sure there are some names missing. All I can say is that I most likely love you and will include you in the acknowledgments of book number two.

  About the Author

  A former columnist for the Boston Globe, MICHAEL HOLLEY is one of the most respected voices in sports media. Holley gained national exposure on ESPN’s Around the Horn and recently became a co-host of I, Max on Fox Sports. He divides his time between Boston and New York.

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