At some point between Bill Belichick’s final Super Bowl victory and Wednesday, the day he became the head coach at the University of North Carolina, the NFL as an entity must have become unsolveably tired of its most legendary modern coach. That feeling also seems to have been mutual.
As with most issues, a kind of growing corporatization of everything—but especially the front offices around the league—is to blame. Owners, team presidents and other high-six-figure suits were wary of the maverick Belichick and his desire to run a football organization like some clandestine branch of the FBI in which everyone operates everything on a need-to-know basis (in addition to his insistence on bringing his favorite sidekicks along for the ride in a forever appointment at his right hand). Belichick, too, seems to long for a taste of the Wild West without the responsibility of having to answer to MBAs, JDs, other various paid-for initials and, above all, the owners to which he always felt intellectually superior.
That’s the story on this stunning day. The idea that Belichick got some kind of Windsor Castle deal from the desperate UNC board and an equally regal succession plan is interesting. So, too, is the fact that there seems to be as clear a path as ever for Andy Reid—not Belichick—to eventually become the league’s all-time wins leader. He is currently 58 short of Don Shula’s 328 regular-season wins.
But our focus should be on how we got here to this moment. I am fairly confident in saying that Belichick did not begin the 2024 NFL season as a media personality hell bent on blazing a trail in the collegiate game. There was near constant buzz from industry insiders regarding where he may have been setting his sights in the NFL. Ultimately, it was probably a lack of return overtures—of LinkedIn style “We’d love to, but … ”—that forced him to pivot in the kind of gambit that earned him a prime coaching position full of the aspects he loves about the job and completely devoid of what he does not. The fact that this deal was consummated, one would assume, has something to do with an NFL job not being promised upon the opening of the carousel.
On its face, that seems absurd but wholly reflective of the NFL as it is right now. To say that Belichick is not one of the best available head coaching candidates is ridiculous. To say that Belichick was made by Tom Brady is also ridiculous and ignorant of even the most nuance-free retelling of the New England Patriots’ dynasty.
However, Belichick is difficult to control and does not fit into the increasingly homogenous archetype preferred by the increasingly homogenous ownership circle in the NFL. This is a group of people who don’t like to be told no, who don’t like the boat rocked and who enjoy their fun little play thing, which provides them an entire little bustling village of replaceable townspeople to torture when life isn’t going well at the top of the mountain.
This isn’t about Belichick wanting power in the traditional sense. It’s about Belichick eschewing formality. Of course, owners who buck the trend and actually hire someone interesting based on traits not covered in the Search Firm 101 packet—Dan Campbell, Mike Tomlin, John Harbaugh—are rewarded with franchise-altering success. They just have to stomach the sideways glances at the next black tie gala until it works out.
I have no doubt that Belichick can thrive at the NCAA level, where there is a laughable—or perhaps purposeful—lack of oversight. All the adults in the room exist in a kangaroo court uninterested or unable to conjure up the kind of congressional heft that dogged Belichick on his worst days in the NFL. While it’s not the Naval Academy innocence enjoyed by his father, it’s the closest he’s going to come without venturing to East Dillon High and teaming up with a deep-pocketed local car dealer.
By and large, the league is probably thrilled to see this, meaning a kind of crisis at the ownership level has been averted. As always, what is best for the people at the top is nowhere close to what is best for the people playing the game and devoting their lives to it, either as coaches, support staff, scouts or trainers. The NFL and Belichick belonged together at one point in time. Like many good marriages, though, the dynamics began to change when one side became unrecognizable to the other.
This article was originally published on www.si.com as Bill Belichick and the NFL Were No Longer a Fit for Each Other.