First things first: Nothing that’s happened over the last six years — starting in 2019 — changes how I feel about Bill Belichick or the Patriots’ double dynasty. Warts and all, Belichick is the greatest football coach who ever lived.
That’s not up for debate in my book.
That said, what we’ve witnessed in Chapel Hill, North Carolina, over the last six weeks — really, the last six months — has been like watching Willie Mays struggling with the Mets, Joe Namath limping around with the Rams, or Bobby Orr skating in a Blackhawks sweater.
Sad. Just sad.
We can debate legacies all day. But in the world of social media, that debate gets trashed. Suddenly, it’s just: “Belichick is a bum.”
That’s the risk when you’re famous — especially in big-time sports. Athletes, coaches, owners, even presidents. Put yourself in the spotlight, with millions of dollars and millions of fans watching, and you’re one bad season away from being a meme.
Belichick wanted to coach again, to run his own show. Out of nowhere, he chose Chapel Hill — a struggling program that’s never quite cracked the big time.
In a strange way, they needed each other.
Belichick, the 50-year NFL legend, and UNC football, still chasing its first ACC title since 1980. Odd couple, but intriguing.
Belichick and his crew promised to turn UNC into an NFL-style college factory, teaching athletes the pro game like no one else. Honestly? It sounded a little arrogant. But what do I know? College football barely cracks my top-10. I’m Boston/New England through and through — a region that considers itself a pro sports capital.
I figured that, despite some strange happenings — mostly related to his “significant other” — he knew what he was doing.
But after bringing in 70 new players — 40 transfers, 30 freshmen — it was clear, right from the opener against TCU, that we were wrong.
It was called a “mutual agreement,” this split between Belichick and UNC, but let’s be honest—Tar Heel Nation and the university brass had seen enough.
Belichick’s girlfriend is going to take a lot of heat. She’s new to this, along for the ride—whether or not she actually made any decisions. But this one’s on the future Hall of Famer.
The bigger shame? The staffers and loyalists who upended their lives to follow him on this risky, off-the-grid adventure. Here’s hoping they aren’t tarnished by what happened, both on and off the field.
Every game, even the wins, seemed worse than the week before.
Belichick’s legacy will probably survive this mess, but it’s going to take a while—maybe months, maybe years. Chapel Hill’s stories will keep this fiasco alive for a good long time.
Belichick blew this chance by skipping the homework—forgetting that big-time college football is just as ruthless as the pros. He’s used to taking hits, even when winning. But these punches? They’re going to hurt. Bad. At least for now.
“Chapel Bill,” the happy-go-lucky saying touted when he was hired, changes to this more appropriate moniker: Very Disappointing Bill.
You can email Bill Burt at bburt@eagletribune.com.