Seth Wickersham - Its Better to Be Feared: The New England Patriots Dynasty and the Pursuit of Greatness

ITS
BETTER
TO BE
FEARED

The New England
Patriots Dynasty
and the Pursuit
of Greatness

SETH
WICKERSHAM

LIVERIGHT PUBLISHING CORPORATION

A DIVISION OF W. W. NORTON & COMPANY

Independent Publishers Since 1923

For Alison, Maddie, and Grant
whom I respect, whom I admire, whom I love

More than rich, more than famous,
more than happy, I wanted to be great.

Bruce Springsteen

Few men try for best ever...

Richard Ben Cramer

F INISHING A PROJECT LIKE THISIN A GLOBAL PANDEMIC, amid travel restrictions and virtual schools and the dull fear all of us feltrequired the help, kindness, and patience of more people than I could ever thank. But Ill try.

Thank you:

To my parents, Kirk and Beth, who supported me from the moment that I decidedno, that I neededto become a journalist.

To my immediate and extended family members: Cody, Lauren, Brielle, and Aria Rice; Mary Sullivan Wickersham; Jim Dunn; Marcia Goldstein; Bill Overholt; the Haaheim family; and Christine, Chantal, Matthew, and David Dunn.

To dear friends and neighbors who helped navigate life, work, the aftermath of a hurricane that knocked out power for a week, and who cared for my children as if they were their own: Matt Moscardi, Courtney Rowe, Sen, Nina, and Dylan; Brian and Kat Pencz; Kerri-Lynn ONeill; Ari Barrenechea; Courtney Nicastro; Michelle DePalma; Patty DeMorro; Tania Taft; and Cory and Gail Shane.

To my ski crew: Phil Levis and Mary Bruce; Kevin Stange and Megan Tompkins-Stange; Justin and Maggie Harth; Travis Harth; and Colin Harbke.

To David Black, for your bulletproof friendship and steadfast belief in me.

To Dan Gerstle, who supported, reassured, answered calls at all hours, and who, in carefully considering each line and each chapter, not only made this book the best it could be, but helped find a books most essential quality: its voice.

To all at Liveright and W. W. Norton who contributed to this project, including Peter Miller, Cordelia Calvert, Nick Curley, Zeba Arora, Rebecca Munro, Lloyd Davis, Rebecca Homiski, Anna Oler, Steve Attardo, and Steven Pace. Also, to Chip Namias, for the publicity wizardry.

To Tricia Huerta, for the transcriptions.

To all of the players, coaches, general managers, executives, owners, lawyers, agents, and others around the NFL who have helped me with this project and others over the years.

To my current and former colleagues at ESPN, where Ive been a writer almost longer than I havent: Eric Adelson, Ben Arledge, Stephania Bell, Gary Belsky, Scott Burton, Heather Burns, Taffy Brodesser-Akner, John Clayton, David Cummings, Luke Cyphers, Cristina Daglas, John Dahl, Jeff Darlington, Scott Eden, Bruce Feldman, Neil Fine, Mike Fish, David Fleming, Charlotte Gibson, Ian Gordon, Dan Hajducky, John Hassan, Jemele Hill, Ryan Hockensmith, Gary Hoenig, Becky Hudson, Baxter Holmes, Kevin Jackson, Jena Janovy, Mike Johns, Tim Keown, Raina Kelley, Mina Kimes, Paul Kix, David Kraft, John Kosner, Chris and Leah LaPlaca, Dan Le Batard, Joon Lee, Bob Ley, Jackie MacMullan, Seth Markman, John Mastroberardino, Elizabeth Merrill, Gueorgui Milkov, Chris Mortensen, Jay Jay Nesheim, Mike Ogle, John Papanek, Mike Philbrick, John Pluym, Stacey Pressman, Nate Ravitz and family, Jason Reid, Lauren Reynolds, Ryen Russillo, Dianna Russini, Emily Schaible and family, Jason Schwartz, Ramona Shelburne, Bill Simmons, John Skipper, Michael Smith, Sarah Spain, Chris Sprow, Ryan Spoon, Pablo Torre, Rachel Ullrich, Scott Van Pelt, John A. Walsh, Chin Wang, and Steve Young. To anyone I missed, I apologize.

To journalists whose friendship I treasure and whose work I admire: Kent Babb, Greg Bedard, Greg Bishop, Albert Breer, Jason Cole, Peter King, Rick Maese, Charles Robinson, Michael Rosenberg, and Michael Silver.

To Tim Rasmussen, for the photo shoot.

To Anthony Olivieri, who helped research and fact-check the book while navigating a full-time job, raising a young family along with his wife, Sylvia, and mourning the loss of his grandfather, Papa Mario, due to this horrible virus.

To Jimmy Pitaro, who gave me his full support to pursue this bookand meant it.

To Kevin Merida, who saw this projects potential from the start and encouraged me to chase it.

To Rob King, who counseled and lead-blocked.

To Connor Schell, who always checked in to see how the book was coming, both as a colleague and as a friend.

To Ian OConnor, who provided confidence throughout.

To Don Van Natta, an inspiration, great journalist and friend, and reportorial force who helped with this project.

To Kevin Van Valkenburg, who always answers the phone and listens.

To Tom Junod, the greatest of all timeas a writer, pal, mentor, and Shelter Island host.

To Chad Millman, Chris Buckle, Eric Neel, and Mike Drago, whose advice, friendship, wisdom, brilliance, and methodologies for delivering story feedbackChad with casual indifference, Chris with trademark bluntness, Eric with unrelenting love, Mike with various combinations of all threehave redefined what it means to be an editor.

To Rick Telander and the late Ken Denlinger, for long believing that I had a book in me.

To my Mizzou crew: Justin Heckert, Tony Rehagen, and Steve Walentik, all of whom provided a perfect mix of laughs and banterabout Missouri sports, the St. Louis Blues, politics and lifewhen I needed it most.

To Wright Thompson, the best friend anyone could ask for, since college. I couldnt have done this without youand by this, I mean not only this book, but also my career. There are not enough ways to thank you, but a down payment will begin at P. J. Clarkes.

And finally, to my family. Maddie smiled, hugged, occasionally brought breakfast to my office, and, as the most talented writer in the familymost talented everything, reallyshowed me how its done, finishing two sci-fi books in the past year. Grant giggled, sprinted, opened the office door to check on me, out of curiosity and maybe out of concern, and grew to reach the switch and turn off the light without standing on his tiptoes, as a way to tell me that it was time to close the laptop. Alison loved, listened, advised, forgave, understood, and endlessly encouraged. Im forever grateful, and I love you all.

N OBODY SAW GREATNESS WALKING ONTO THE FIELD. Nothing about the quarterback projected an aura of anything other than ordinariness. The quarterback had a generic nameTom Bradyand wore a classic quarterback number: 12. His body seemed both lanky and soft, the frame of a thin man who had been ordered to gain weight and had done so by banging weights and eating junk food. A helmet and shoulder pads somehow made him look less imposing, exposing his build rather than amplifying it. He was 24 years old on October 14, 2001, and his team, the New England Patriots, trailed the San Diego Chargers, 2619, with a little more than two minutes left. He was in the huddle. It was the type of moment that defined quarterback careers and that he used to define himself. If he failed, he might not get another chance. Nowouldnt deserve another chance, as if he would have committed a mortal sin punishable by lifetime banishment.

Two head coaches stood on opposing sidelines, both in their late 40s, both defensive-minded, both with fates tied to the young quarterback. One of them was Bill Belichick, 49 years old, in his second season in New England, author of one winning season in a total of six years as a head coach of the Cleveland Browns and then the Patriots. The other was Mike Riley, 48 years old, in his second season with San Diego. Belichick was invested in Tom Brady. He had drafted him and liked his leadership and decision-making, but he was only playing Brady because the teams starting quarterback had nearly died in an on-field collision three Sundays prior. Riley was even more invested in Brady, even if the quarterback was on the other team. He knew more about what Tom Brady was capable of than anyone. He had known Brady personally for eight years, and from the start, saw something special in himnot that he would be a legend, exactly, but enough to perceive that he possessed qualities exclusive to the most gifted in his profession. He didnt know what Tom Brady would become; nobody did. But Riley understood that, in that moment, with the game on the line and Tom Brady at the line of scrimmage, he was in trouble.