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The date passed quietly last week — last Tuesday, to be precise. It isn’t an anniversary anyone wants to commemorate.
For the Jets, Jan. 4, 2000, was the day they were publicly jilted at the altar by a coach most of their fans believed wasn’t worth the offer he’d been given. For Bill Belichick … well, who wants to celebrate the recording of a hostage tape?
Yes, last Tuesday was the 11th anniversary of the day “HC of the NYJ” became a part of New York sporting pop culture, the day Belichick did an abrupt 24-hour about-face, quit his position as Bill Parcells’ successor — and forever walked away from the Shadow of Tuna. It seemed like he was committing career suicide that day.
It seems like something else 11 years later.
“If I’m letting somebody down,” Belichick said that day, “if somebody doesn’t think I’m living up to my end of the bargain, I’m sorry.”
Well … what if he’d decided to live up to his end of the bargain? What if the “uncertainty” he kept talking about could’ve been resolved with a peek into a crystal ball that would’ve assured him Woody Johnson would be in it for the long haul?
What if Belichick had actually become the HC of the NYJ when he had the chance? What if he hadn’t so impressed Robert Kraft during his earlier stay in New England that he didn’t have the fallback position of choosing the Jets’ AFC East rival?
I asked someone who’s known Belichick for more than 25 years that question yesterday.
“It’s always going to be a fascinating mystery,” he said. “Because I think even Bill will tell you he couldn’t have predicted just how great things would go for him in New England. So it’s impossible to know if things ever could have been replicated in New York. But it is fun to think about.”
Yes. It is.
There is one given that we know about a Belichick-led Jets: The superb staff Belichick surrounded himself with would’ve been there, in full, from day one. That means, in no particular order, Charlie Weis, Romeo Crennel, Scott Pioli, Al Groh, Eric Mangini.
All of them were with the Jets with Belichick. All but Groh followed him to Foxborough. As Parcells proved before him, you put that many smart guys in a room, you’re going to win a lot of games. And look awfully smart yourself.
Here is the more fascinating thing to ponder: It is part of NFL lore — and the legends and legacies of both men — that Belichick selected Tom Brady with the 199th pick of his first draft.
The Pats picked four forgettable players with earlier draft picks. The Jets wound up with seven of the first 179 picks in that draft; would Belichick have used one on the underachieving quarterback from Michigan?
More intriguing to ponder: Remember, the Jets had four first-rounders that year thanks to the fact that Groh couldn’t get along with Keyshawn Johnson; isn’t it reasonable to think Belichick wouldn’t have had those personality conflicts with Keyshawn? He did get along with Randy Moss when he had to, after all.
And is it extra titillating to think of six or seven years of Brady throwing to Johnson, two men who now have four Super Bowl rings between them?
“I understand why it’s intriguing,” Belichick’s friend said. “But there are a couple of things you have to keep in mind, too.”
The underlying, overriding issue was always the looming specter of Parcells. By the time Belichick held his “Blair Witch” press conference, he had clearly grown tired of his Parcellian link. Eleven years later, we know why: Parcells has never been to a Super Bowl without Belichick; Belichick has won three without Parcells. But in 2000, that notion would’ve seemed ludicrous. He had to strike out on his own.
“And who knows how everything goes if they don’t get that Tuck Rule call,” Belichick’s friend said of the break that launched the Patriot mystique in Belichick’s/Brady’s first playoff game, in the snow against Oakland. “But it’s fun to talk about.”
Yes. It is.