Bill Belichick's Patriots Will Destroy Rex Ryan's Jets
Bill Belichick's only fetish is winning. Feet, legs, people wearing furry outfits, none of that entices him.
He wants to win football games so much everything else in life is a distraction. Can you imagine Bill Belichick making a foot fetish video with his wife? Of course not. That's wasted time. The feet, Belichick would think, you can't sleep with the feet.
Rex Ryan is different, Falstaff in a headset, a walking quote machine who generates Internet page views at a faster clip than Brett Favre's text pictures. But Rex is all bluster, if he loses to the Patriots he'll be flipping fans off at the next UFC fight. He'll get over the defeat, come back next year talking more trash. Belichick is different. He marinates in his defeat, pulls his hoodie over his head and hibernates like the Emperor in "Return of the Jedi." Every thought comes back to football, every waking moment is an opportunity to gain a competitive advantage.
Wonder how good at what he does Bill Belichick is? His coaching tree is a sequoia with no branches. Everyone who has left him to succeed on his own has fallen to the forest floor, looking up dazed at the sky above -- Bill Belichick's brilliance is solitary. Romeo Crennel, Josh McDaniels, Eric Mangini, and Charlie Weis? Failure, failure, failure, failure. Belichick could plug in your Aunt Gladys and have her named coordinator of the year.
He's that good at what he does.
Rex Ryan has a life outside football. That means you'd rather spend time with Ryan, have a beer with him, invite him over for the Super Bowl, marry him and make a video where your feet hang outside the window and he pretends to be a police officer. But you wouldn't rather pick him to coach your team in a football game. No way, no how. You want a robot, a football Svengali, a man who cares so much about winning that if you stand next to him the penumbra of his success makes you look like a genius, too.
What's more, Belichick has been outside the Super Bowl winner's circle for longer than you think. How long? Five long seasons have come and gone since Super Bowl XXXIX. Since that time Belichick has began to look downright mortal, a pedestrian 5-4 record in the playoffs and a Super Bowl loss with an 18-0 team that was so close to perfection Belichick probably still wakes up at night thinking about David Tyree's helmet catch.
This is Belichick's time to return to the prominence he believes he deserves, to snag his fourth Super Bowl, a win that will put him alone with former Steeler Chuck Noll as the only coach in NFL history to win four Super Bowls.
Belichick needs this distinction like we need oxygen -- he lives for these games. That's why the Patriots are going to win by double digits on Sunday and then after the game Bill Belichick is going to jog across the field, pull his hand out of that hoodie jacket and avoid engaging Rex Ryan in any kind of conversation. He'll already be thinking about the game plan for the AFC title game, running permutations and formations through his mind like the chess computer that hardly anyone can beat -- Deep Blue on the football field.
You can't blame Rex Ryan for trying to engage Bill Belichick in a war of words before this game. He's seen the tape, knows his team is inferior to the Patriots. Remembers well the 45-3 pasting that the Patriots put on his team a little more than a month ago. So what does he do? Rex calls out everyone on the Patriots, including their coach. Takes a shot at Tom Brady for not watching the wild-card games. Says he's no Peyton Manning. Brady doesn't take the bait, but Ryan heaps on the commentary, says that this game will be decided by who the better coach is. If that's true, and it may well be, there's not even a point in turning on the television.
Not to be outdone Rex Ryan's defensive back Antonio Cromartie, he of the multiple children whose names he can't remember, steps up to the mic and actually calls Brady an a*****e.
Meet the Jets' new game plan, if you can't beat 'em, infuriate 'em. Get the Patriots so wrapped up in fury that they don't come out and execute the game plan. Try and get Belichick and his crew to try so hard to embarrass the Jets that they don't take care of their own business. It's an interesting ploy, but it's one rooted in desperation, the loud, bellowing rage of a wild boar that's already been stuck by a spear and knows it has but little time left to live.
The Jets' season is on life-support and Belichick is the only person who has read the living will. He's the cord-puller, the man who looks at the chart and knows you're done. And make no mistake about it, the Jets are done. They're a dead team walking.
And Belichick is the undertaker sharpening his scythe.
Bye, bye Rex.
Follow Clay Travis on Twitter here. With All That and a Bag of Mail back on a weekly basis, you can e-mail him questions at Clay.Travis@gmail.com.