Belichick's cold demeanor keeps Patriots hot

CHICAGO – Outside the wind whistled off the icy lake, blowing snow through Solider Field until the grass, lines and end zones were all a blur of white. It was a terrible day for football. And in a warm room beneath the stands, Patriots coach Bill Belichick stood at a lectern and mumbled praise so exuberant for him it was startling to hear.

“I’m damn proud of my football team,” he said, his voice flat, tone detached.

The exuberance would be in the “damn.” And the vanquishing of the Chicago Bears in a whiteout where planes couldn’t land and cars couldn’t drive yet New England managed to roll 475 yards of offense on the Chicago Bears that pleased the coach so that his mouth almost twitched into the hint of a smile.

Then the moment vanished and his eyes went blank.

Anyone who guessed that Spygate or its ensuing imitations might have weakened him is foolish. A lot has been made in recent weeks about the failures of his assistants as head coaches, leading to speculation that he is not truly a great developer of genius as some of his contemporaries. Maybe it’s just irony that as those words rattled around the Internet his Patriots (11-2) have delivered two of their most domineering victories in his time here: a 45-3 beating of the Jets last Monday night and this 36-7 destruction of the Bears six days later.

Most men in his position would celebrate such moments. Rex Ryan might have devoured a cake. It is after all, human nature to enjoy delicious revenge and Belichick seems better at drawing it than any man who coaches today. But the way he stifles any joy from his successes makes him ever more daunting come the end of a football year.

His bliss was as frigid as the air swirling outside.

How could his receivers be so good in such awful weather?

“That’s what good football players do,” he muttered. “They play well in all conditions.”

With the win New England clinched a playoff berth, someone said. Was he happy about that?

“I’m sure at the end of the season someone will tell us what to do,” he grumbled.

On a television screen in the room the final play of a Jets loss to Miami appeared. Someone pointed to the TV. Did Belichick notice what happened? The screen is about 50 inches wide, the room was not large, it would have been hard to ignore the fall of the Patriots' top rival.

He said, no.

The Jets lost again, a man said.

“Mmm,” Belichick replied.

Then silence.

They talk around Foxborough not of the physical intimidation most coaches prefer, but rather the cool ardor with which he coaches his team; the intense preparation, the discovery of details nobody ever notices, the demand of perfection. Nobody else does this.

“He’s a man you definitely don’t want to displease,” said safety James Sanders(notes) who dived through the bitter wind and snow to knock away a pass that would have been a certain Chicago touchdown late in the game. The score would have been irrelevant. His effort seemed almost excessive given the situation. But Sanders shook his head. No. No.

“We didn’t want to give up another TD,” he said. Plus, he added, who knows when a similar pass might come up in a bigger moment of a closer game? It’s best to be ready.

The next play, Bears quarterback Jay Cutler(notes), under pressure, heaved a wobbly pass toward the end zone that was intercepted.

“Each player is accountable to his teammates,” Sanders later said. “We hold each other to a higher standard.”

Then he smiled.

“That comes from our head coach,” he said.

Of course this is nothing new, countless stories have been told about Belichick’s mastery. But he is also at a point in his 11th season as the Patriots coach, when such tactics can grow weary. Players have a tendency to stop listening to coaches who have been one place a long time. He has not won a Super Bowl since the winter of 2005 and he has gutted his roster of some of its biggest names in recent years. Yet his mind seems as strong as ever. His quarterback, Tom Brady(notes), is playing as well as ever, despite being 33 years old and living the life of a superstar athlete with a supermodel wife.

And yet the Patriots are thundering toward February now with little doubt they are the best team in the NFL. All of it because of the silent fire of the coach who can still get his players to demand brilliance from each other.

“I’ve seen this in spurts with other teams I’ve been on,” said kicker Shayne Graham(notes), new to New England this fall. “I have never been on a team where it happens for 60 minutes every game with everyone holding everyone else accountable.”

He shook his head in amazement as he tossed equipment into a bag.

Then into the locker room came Belichick again. He was wearing his blue hoodie, the one with the initials “BB” printed beneath the Patriots insignia. At first, he didn’t smile, he didn’t slap his players on the back. He moved through with the stoic purpose of a man determined.

Suddenly a strange thing happened. He stopped and shook a few of his players' hands. He laughed with them, told a few jokes.

It was a happy Belichick. A man satisfied with the realization he has made his team very, very good.