Curran: Today's NFL has no patience for 'Next Belichick'
On Thursday, Belichick lamented Kelly’s firing. In doing so, Belichick mentioned other coaches who’d been whisked out quickly when players either bristled at being dealt with too brusquely or clashes with star players ultimately made the owner go weak-kneed. Or both. What happened with Kelly was the same thing that happened with Josh McDaniels in Denver, Greg Schiano in Tampa and Mike Shanahan in Washington. You can throw in Eric Mangini in with the Jets and Cleveland and Scott Pioli’s GM reign in Kansas City as well. Or Jim Harbaugh in San Francisco.
None of them were cuddly enough. None of them had on-field success that would have led to years-long ownership support allowing them to become a ruler like Belichick. All of them lost loud segments of their locker room. All of them were typecast by media as arrogant micromanagers who didn’t work well with others.
They ran out of time. And the process of building a program with one, hard, clear philosophy takes years, as Belichick pointed out Thursday.
“You have to change the culture,” he said. “The coach that comes in usually has a different philosophy than the coach that left, so you have to try to implement that philosophy. That means you’re going to turn over a high percentage of the roster because the players that the other coach had don’t fit the new philosophy, so a lot of the players are going to have to change in part because of the philosophy and probably in part because of the scheme.
“Those role-type players, now that role is not needed in the new scheme and a different role is needed,” Belichick continued. “So you get different players, and then just getting your team acclimated to doing things the way that the philosophy of the new program. You’re going to have to go through a lot of tough situations – tough games, tough losses, tough stretches in the season, whatever it happens to be, to build that up over time.”
In 2000, Robert Kraft was ready for Bill Belichick. Kraft saw the flaws of the collaborative head coach-GM-cap guy/ownership approach he implemented in 1997 after Bill Parcells left. But if Kraft was going to put his trust in a football emperor, he had to believe the emperor didn’t have the same wanderlust of Parcells. Belichick fit.
But the culture change in New England was drastic. Within 18 months, Belichick and Pioli jettisoned Ben Coates, Max Lane, Todd Rucci, Bruce Armstrong, Chris Slade, Larry Whigham, Willie Clay and Andy Katzenmoyer. All were either Pro Bowlers or close friends of quarterback Drew Bledsoe, whose sense of entitlement grew like a weed once Parcells left and Pete Carroll took over.
Terry Glenn was gone before the end of 2001. Bledsoe was gone before the start of 2002. Lawyer Milloy was gone before the start of 2003.
Belichick once said he spent more time trying to reach and gain the trust of Terry Glenn than any other player. Glenn was permanently deactivated one week after catching seven passes for 115 yards and a touchdown against San Diego in the first truly great game of Tom Brady’s career.
Bledsoe was traded within the division less than a year after signing a 10-year, $103-million contract.
Both moves showed unmistakably who was in charge of personnel.
The Milloy move – which came after the Pro Bowl safety and refused to take a pay cut – showed who was in charge of the locker room as well.
None of these moves are that far different than what Kelly was dealing with in Philly. But the winning in 2001 – against all odds – brought Belichick cache Kelly didn’t have.
In ensuing seasons, Belichick would play hardball with Adam Vinatieri, Ty Law, Deion Branch, Richard Seymour, Corey Dillon, Randy Moss, Adalius Thomas, Wes Welker and Logan Mankins (apologies if I skipped anyone). Hall of Fame-level players. But because he’d rewarded the trust of ownership and fans he was given free reign.
As for the media? After years of grabbing torches and pitchforks after a controversial move and seeing the vast majority of them work out, most of us have gotten to the, “Well, it seems he knows what he’s doing, so let’s let it play out...” mode.
On Thursday, Belichick lamented Kelly’s firing. In doing so, Belichick mentioned other coaches who’d been whisked out quickly when players either bristled at being dealt with too brusquely or clashes with star players ultimately made the owner go weak-kneed. Or both. What happened with Kelly was the same thing that happened with Josh McDaniels in Denver, Greg Schiano in Tampa and Mike Shanahan in Washington. You can throw in Eric Mangini in with the Jets and Cleveland and Scott Pioli’s GM reign in Kansas City as well. Or Jim Harbaugh in San Francisco.
None of them were cuddly enough. None of them had on-field success that would have led to years-long ownership support allowing them to become a ruler like Belichick. All of them lost loud segments of their locker room. All of them were typecast by media as arrogant micromanagers who didn’t work well with others.
They ran out of time. And the process of building a program with one, hard, clear philosophy takes years, as Belichick pointed out Thursday.
“You have to change the culture,” he said. “The coach that comes in usually has a different philosophy than the coach that left, so you have to try to implement that philosophy. That means you’re going to turn over a high percentage of the roster because the players that the other coach had don’t fit the new philosophy, so a lot of the players are going to have to change in part because of the philosophy and probably in part because of the scheme.
“Those role-type players, now that role is not needed in the new scheme and a different role is needed,” Belichick continued. “So you get different players, and then just getting your team acclimated to doing things the way that the philosophy of the new program. You’re going to have to go through a lot of tough situations – tough games, tough losses, tough stretches in the season, whatever it happens to be, to build that up over time.”
In 2000, Robert Kraft was ready for Bill Belichick. Kraft saw the flaws of the collaborative head coach-GM-cap guy/ownership approach he implemented in 1997 after Bill Parcells left. But if Kraft was going to put his trust in a football emperor, he had to believe the emperor didn’t have the same wanderlust of Parcells. Belichick fit.
But the culture change in New England was drastic. Within 18 months, Belichick and Pioli jettisoned Ben Coates, Max Lane, Todd Rucci, Bruce Armstrong, Chris Slade, Larry Whigham, Willie Clay and Andy Katzenmoyer. All were either Pro Bowlers or close friends of quarterback Drew Bledsoe, whose sense of entitlement grew like a weed once Parcells left and Pete Carroll took over.
Terry Glenn was gone before the end of 2001. Bledsoe was gone before the start of 2002. Lawyer Milloy was gone before the start of 2003.
Belichick once said he spent more time trying to reach and gain the trust of Terry Glenn than any other player. Glenn was permanently deactivated one week after catching seven passes for 115 yards and a touchdown against San Diego in the first truly great game of Tom Brady’s career.
Bledsoe was traded within the division less than a year after signing a 10-year, $103-million contract.
Both moves showed unmistakably who was in charge of personnel.
The Milloy move – which came after the Pro Bowl safety and refused to take a pay cut – showed who was in charge of the locker room as well.
None of these moves are that far different than what Kelly was dealing with in Philly. But the winning in 2001 – against all odds – brought Belichick cache Kelly didn’t have.
In ensuing seasons, Belichick would play hardball with Adam Vinatieri, Ty Law, Deion Branch, Richard Seymour, Corey Dillon, Randy Moss, Adalius Thomas, Wes Welker and Logan Mankins (apologies if I skipped anyone). Hall of Fame-level players. But because he’d rewarded the trust of ownership and fans he was given free reign.
As for the media? After years of grabbing torches and pitchforks after a controversial move and seeing the vast majority of them work out, most of us have gotten to the, “Well, it seems he knows what he’s doing, so let’s let it play out...” mode.
Terry Glenn, now that's an name I haven't heard in forever. Son was a beast, word to the OSU conglomerate. 
