Spygate was the best thing to happen to Pats

by Mark Kriegel

Updated: January 22, 2008, 7:28 PM EST 138 comments

I was pacing, talking to my kid on the phone. You do not want to be talking Hannah Montana in a holding cell.

"Sir?"

"What?"

"You need to go inside."

"I'm on the phone."

"I'm sorry. You have to."

Then it dawned on me. These are Bill Belichick's Patriots. "What am I, a spy?"

The security guy shrugged, almost apologetically. He had his orders, to be sure. But he knew. He works for Dr. Evil.

You could have given me a perch atop the stadium and infrared laser scopes, and I still couldn't make sense of the Patriots' top secret game plan. But such is life under Bill.

"Sir."

"Wait. You calling me a cheater?"

Another shrug, less diffident this time.

"Seriously. I look like a cheater to you?"

"Sir. You need to. It's the rules."

He escorted me into the holding cell. But it didn't end there. Not for me. After all, the guy had called me a cheater. So now I say this to the Patriots and their coach: it takes one to know one, sir.

They don't like to hear that, of course. They love it.

I'm not saying they've been cheating since getting caught illicitly videotaping signs from the New York Jets. I'm saying that Spygate was the best thing to happen to the 2007 New England Patriots, which will probably go down as the greatest team ever to play. Half a million bucks — the astounding, unprecedented amount Belichick was ordered to pay out of his own pocket — was a small price for what it bought this coach.

The Patriots will tell you Spygate is all in the past. With each new week and each new offensive record, the memory of Spygate begins to recede. By the same token, New England is a little less sharp now than back in September and October and November when the stigma was still fresh.

Coincidence? I don't believe so.

Do you really think New England would still be undefeated if not for Spygate?

Among the episode's unintended consequences was the forging of the team's identity. It crystallized the coach's paranoid vision. It justified the Belichickian mantras: Us against Them, Trust No One, They All Hate Us. Football is not a game to be played dispassionately. You can't have too much motivation. Whenever one of the Pats talk about being called a cheater, you know somebody on the other side of the ball is about to get his ass kicked.

So with the Super Bowl approaching, it's worth noting that the New York Giants again find themselves at a major disadvantage. As it pertains to incentive, the Patriots had Spygate.

What do the Giants have?

Tiki Barber?

On the Mark

After watching Tom Brady's dismal performance in the AFC Championship, I think it's safe to conclude that Gisele is even tougher at home than Jessica on the road.

Speaking of which, after the Cowboys lost, offensive tackle Flozell Adams brandished a pair of tape cutters. "Better back off," he told reporters.

Why didn't he think of that against Strahan and Umenyiora?

This just in: Ohio State players have finally returned to campus only to find that the lock to their practice facility has been changed. The new combination is 35-21.

Now comes word that all these hip hoppers have been implicated in the upstate New York steroid investigation.

Why, Wyclef? Why?! (Jesse D. Garrabrant / Getty Images)

Personally, I don't care about silly rappers like Timbaland and 50 Cent.

But Wyclef?

Say it ain't so.

Then there's Mary J. Blige. I knew she was on something ever since I heard her "Sweet Thing." You don't dare cover Chaka Khan unless you have an edge.

Really, now, what were the odds of Eli outplaying Favre in Green Bay?

If this were boxing, there'd be an investigation.

Of course, the NFL is clean, which is to say their guys tell you after they destroy the tapes.

By the way, with the Super Bowl now upon us, can Goodell finally explain why those Spygate reels were destroyed?

Just to keep Glazer from getting his hands on them?

Selig and Fehr tell Congress there's no reliable test for HGH. Travis Tygart, executive director of the United States Anti-Doping Agency, tells The New York Times: "The only logical conclusion is they don't truly want effective drug testing."

Gee, you think?

Politicians need to finally address the real epidemic plaguing major league clubhouses. Attention Deficit Disorder.

With 9:14 left in the second quarter, word came over the press box P.A. system: "LaDainian Tomlinson has a sore knee. He can return."

Then Norv Turner came out after the game and told reporters, "The doctors and trainers said he couldn't go."

You can trust this face...right? (Doug Pensinger / Getty Images)

If I didn't know better, I'd think he was lying.

No shame for Notre Dame fans in seeing their basketball team blown out by Georgetown. Hey, you guys already have 13 wins. Charlie Weis won't get there until midway through the 2010 season.

I've always been a willing shill for Pat Riley, but I've got to be honest, he's making it tough.

Losing to the Knicks?

While I'm on the subject, the Knicks miss Marbury like the Republicans miss Duncan Hunter.

Actually, I always knew good things would happen once Jerome James was back. In fact, I think we can agree to call this the Jerome James Era.

Spent four days in New England without seeing a single Steve Grogan jersey. Kind of a shame, if you ask me, people forgetting their history.

The Jets hired Bill Callahan as an assistant head coach? I don't get it. He was the one guy they could beat.

Notice how Pete Carroll started taking calls for NFL jobs just as soon as this Reggie Bush story got hot. Coincidence, of course.

From Thomas Bonk in the Los Angeles Times, after John Daly pulled out of the Bob Hope Classic with an alleged rib injury:

"He attended two more tournament parties Friday night, including an after-party, and told one local reporter to ignore the fact that he was drinking. At the first party, Daly sang 'Knockin' on Heaven's Door' in a duet with Alice Cooper. Eyewitnesses said Daly was helped out of the after-party by an unidentified man."

I like Daly, too, but sometimes it sounds his next after-party will be a wake.

How many more parties can John Daly last? ( Ian Walton / Getty Images)

My esteemed colleague, Bill Plaschke, wants odds on Alice Cooper knocking on heaven's door before Big John.

About the same as Eli winning three playoff games without throwing an interception.

I'm not going to lie: it's going to be tough writing this column without Eli's help.

But I'm a gamer — unlike Marvez, who at this very minute is moaning about food poisoning.

So much for all his years of experience on the NFL beat. You'd think the guy would know enough not to go out for Mongolian food in Green Bay.

Finally, everybody missed Belichick's Dr. Phil Moment: "We love each other as a team."

We love you, too, Bill.

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