The person who first said everybody loves a winner was full of it to the point of detonation.
Consider the New England Patriots.
For a team named Patriots to be hated so much outside its constituency in this era of true and cockeyed patriotism, when winners are beloved, stalked and paparazzied and losers cast aside, would appear contrary to our modern jingoistic beliefs.
It probably stems from the NFL team's uncommon success, and Bill Belichick being one of the more unlikeable _ naturally or deliberately _ coaches since Pheidippides' mentor told him: "Go the extra mile, Pheid, you'll be fine."
That, and perhaps it comes from people being sick and tired of being sick and tired of the Pats.
I'm sick and tired of them. But I don't hate them. Difficult to hate what you can't help but admire, when your eyes have seen so much good and bad while chronicling good and bad for so long.
I find the Pats, who will play in their third consecutive Super Bowl Sunday when they meet the Rams in Atlanta, the greatest sporting mystery of my lifetime.
And I love a mystery.
I've read the masters _ Doyle, Christie, Sayers, Stout, Carr, Chandler, James, Hammett, et al _ and with practice have avoided red herrings and even managed to nail some denouements.
It's terribly satisfying.
But there's one master puzzler I've never figured out, one who gets me every time just when I think I have him in the net.
Bill Belichick. The Great Deceiver.
Months ago, after watching the Pats go through their usual early struggles, I senior-momented that, if Belichick managed to turn this scraggly group into a champion, the Pope had to consider canonization.
This was different than his other New England teams, all of the previous eight he had taken to Super Bowls (winning five), many having begun slowly.
Example: In 2003, they opened with a 31-0 loss to Buffalo to write themselves off. They finished 14-2 and won the Super Bowl.
But this team didn't have anything special and, other than Tom Brady quarterbacking it at the preposterous age of 41 and Belichick magically coaching it, still doesn't.
It's hard to name more than a player or two on defense. The skill people are average. The offensive line seemed ordinary at best, so what's happened? Brady, who can't move, has been back to pass 90 times in the playoffs and hasn't been sacked (only 21 times during the regular season).
Most every team they play has better personnel. The Chargers did. The Chiefs did. The Rams will.
New England, being in the Super Bowl, couldn't have anybody playing in Sunday's Pro Bowl. But the only two Patriots voted into it (the Rams have four) were Brady and cornerback Stephon Gilmore, as reserves, mind you.
And yet here they are. Again. Go figure.
Well, we can't figure. Holmes couldn't smoke it out. Poirot's little gray cells would be bouncing around that egg-shaped dome of his.
So what we have here is, to borrow from Churchill, the greatest continuing riddle, wrapped in a mystery, inside an enigma we've had in sports.
Is anything close? Not over such a great length of time, beginning in 2002, when they began this run and had no business whatsoever beating those vastly superior Rams in Super Bowl XXVII.
They have been good, they have been lucky, but never overwhelming.
Their Super Bowl wins have come by 3, 3, 3, 4 and 6 points (in overtime), their losses by 3, 4, and 8 last February, when they amassed 613 total yards, Brady throwing for 505 vs. Philadelphia.
Realistically, they could have won all eight or lost all eight in the Brady-Belichick era. Or maybe we should forget Seattle throwing a pass from the 1-yard line or Atlanta screwing up play calls at the end and blowing a huge lead.
I've always believed the true geniuses of football are the quarterbacks, and Belichick couldn't have accomplished any of this without Brady, the greatest of all postseason quarterbacks.
But, could Brady have done this with without Belichick? Could Tom or Bill have done it on other clubs without one another? Doubtful. The perfect marriage.
It can't all be Brady. Other than Tom, Belichick won't have many Patriots joining him in Canton.
All other dynasty franchises have numerous Hall of Fame players on their resumes. And _ very important _ they played vs. teams with Hall of Fame players and coaches. With the cap and player movement, Bill doesn't go up against clubs with multiple legends on their rolls.
But, he rips up his team every year and somehow succeeds with a bunch of guys who just know how to play football.
I'll (we'll) never learn.
Cris Collinsworth was spot on when he told Dan Patrick: "In basketball, a great player or two can swing the league, but in football, it's much harder to do that. The League (NFL) was built so nobody can do this year after year.
"It's stupid if you don't pencil in the Patriots for the championship game. In September, I tell everyone not to pay attention to them. He has 10 guys in different roles."
So, Bill's briskets need time before, as Texan Michael Grant would say, the "strangs" are cooked out of them. And, as Cris adds, it couldn't be done without Brady, who has to have a mighty hand in some of the wins.
But that still doesn't solve the mystery. Because it still has to be done.
Even in the Great Copycat League with some bright people, nobody consistently has been able to figure out how to beat the smartest man in every arena he enters.
Let's see if upstart detective Sean McVay can crack this hard case.
