I’ve never cheered for the Patriots a day in my life. I honestly couldn’t care less about the success of the franchise one way or another. I’m not against them, but I’m neutral. At the peak of their powers, I grew jealous, sure. I resented their success for a while because it wasn’t my own. Years after that, I even came full circle, marveling at such a watershed dynasty in the annals of football history, consistently dominant and seemingly immortal for two full decades. I respect the institution; I do not cheer for it. Even still, I feel for their players as well as their fans today, because yesterday was the day their organization told them they didn’t matter; they weren’t worth even trying for. What a sad, sad state of affairs.
THE PATRIOTS CHOSE THE THEORY OF A BETTER TOMORROW INSTEAD OF ESTABLISHING A WINNING CULTURE
How does a coach walk into an NFL locker room, look all those hungry, haggard, desperate faces square in the eye, and tell them, “we’re taking winning off of the menu this year? Your hard work won’t be rewarded; in this, one of the precious few years of your NFL career, you won’t even be given a chance.”
This is what Jerod Mayo, head coach of the New England Patriots, did Thursday morning; he’s likely already lost his team before his tenure has even had a chance to begin.
“I already know it here in August: you are not enough,” he implied by announcing Jacoby Brissett the starter ahead of Drake Maye, “I’m going to focus on some unspecified future time — one when you’re possibly not around — and try to set it up so I can improve my chances at winning then.”
A quick aside: How does a coach do something like that and expect them to rise to the occasion for him when he needs it most? How is there not instantly a wedge where there didn’t need to be one? How will there not be division, resentment, and despair? How will some of the players in New England, if not most (if not all but Brissett himself), not seethe at the Boston media, Bill Simmons, Bill Belichick, Tom Brady, Brissett (who is fine; he’s only doing his job), Maye (the wonderboy, placed in bubble wrap, more special than we), Robert Kraft, and especially Mayo himself?
I would be livid if I were a New England Patriot today. Livid. And I would secretly revel in it when Mayo was fired because his team finished dead last behind Brissett, and he predictably never got to start the QB he had preserved so delicately for the next coach in line. Hey, that’s just raw emotion; that’s how I would secretly feel.
THE 2023 HOUSTON TEXANS CHOSE TO BUILD THEIR PLAYERS UP, NOT TEAR THEM DOWN
Almost exactly a year ago, as with the current Patriots, most people believed the Houston Texans had a bottom-10 roster; many would have said bottom-five. New head coach DeMeco Ryans took a rookie QB in the draft — not even the first one — as the Patriots did this spring. Ryans faced a very similar set of circumstances as Mayo. Almost exactly the same.
But Ryans chose to walk into that locker room and say, “The critics have it wrong, and I know it. You guys are enough, and we are going to shock the world. You’re my dudes. Follow me.” And guess what happened? The Houston Texans — perennial doormat, desert of talent, still reeling from how badly they were burned by Deshaun Watson — came out in Week 1 and punched the Ravens — the AFC No. 1 seed — in the freaking mouth. They didn’t win, but they screamed their intentions to the world. And next, they started ticking them off: Win, win, win, win. Before you knew it, The Houston Texans — those Houston Texans — destined to finish last in one of the most mediocre divisions in football, were in the playoffs.
One summer later, knowing they’ve already got one of the best QBs in the NFL locked up on a rookie contract, Houston has powerful financial flexibility and an attractive landing spot. This has allowed them to fine-tune a potentially Super Bowl-contending roster. They acquired Danielle Hunter, Stefon Diggs, Denico Autry, Azeez Al-Shaair, and Joe Mixon, essentially pushing all their chips to the center of the table for a shot at ultimate glory.
More importantly, Ryans’ players see him as a freaking legend. When nobody believed in them, he did. That’s establishing a winning culture. That’s being courageous and bold, not weak and afraid. That’s fostering a football family. Mayo could have started on that course yesterday. It’s probably too late now; the damage is done. Ryans will probably take his team deep into the playoffs — maybe a Super Bowl; Mayo could be interviewing for defensive coordinator positions next spring. The NFL can be a brutal place; promises evaporate when the losses compile.
HE’LL BE RUINED IF HE GETS OUT THERE TOO EARLY, OR WILL HE?
This argument probably holds water in isolated cases. David Clyde, a baseball pitcher, is the poster boy for bringing someone along before they were ready; he was 18 — the “next Sandy Koufax” — and he was thrust into major league action 20 days after his last high school pitching appearance. He flamed out, succumbing to frequent injuries, and was out of the league by age 26. For Clyde, the case could be made he was brought along too early because his physical development was not ready for the rigors of a major league schedule. Even so, the alternative to the career track he took is officially unknown.
The cherry-picked examples of QBs who “benefitted by sitting” — Tom Brady, Brett Favre, Aaron Rodgers, Lamar Jackson, Jalen Hurts, and Patrick Mahomes, to name a few — were not demonstrably improved by starting on the bench. Anecdotally speaking, something tells me Mahomes would have been great either way. All due respect to Brady, who has forgotten more about football than I’ll ever know and advocates for a QB sitting as he did, the championship mentality he exhibited throughout his career was a part of his makeup one way or another. He was propelled to greatness by his tireless and meticulous commitment to perfection, his steely nerves, and his other-worldly competitiveness, not that he got to learn for a year under Drew Bledsoe.
For most QBs who fail to meet expectations and are brought into NFL action early, it can be reasonably said that we don’t know how things would have been had they not. It is furthermore possible they may have never been superstars regardless. It sounds harsh, but start putting names to it and imagine a world where JaMarcus Russell, Tim Couch, and Sam Darnold eventuate as icons and Hall of Famers. It’s honestly hard to picture.
Meanwhile, playing immediately didn’t seem to hinder Stroud; nor did it destroy the careers of Dak Prescott, Jared Goff, Kyler Murray, Russell Wilson, or Justin Herbert. All-time greats like Dan Marino, John Elway, and Ben Roethlisberger played immediately; many from horrible situations like Troy Aikman, Peyton Manning, Bledsoe, Matthew Stafford, Joe Burrow, and Josh Allen. The list goes on: Cam Newton, Joe Flacco, Eli Manning, Steve McNair, Vinnie Testaverde, Donovan McNabb, Michael Vick, Philip Rivers, Matt Ryan, Derek Carr, Carson Palmer, Trevor Lawrence, and Deshaun Watson all played right away and made a significant impact over several years. Many were crushed, criticized, and confounded early, and they rose above it all to be a very noteworthy part of the NFL story.
