02-06-2008, 02:40 PM
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#1
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On the Roster
Join Date: Feb 2008
Posts: 87
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A Tribute to Bill Belichick
This season - as someone who doesn't typically follow the Pats so much except on fall Sundays - I really came to appreciate Bill Belichick and what he stands for. Yes, it's easy to like someone when they're winning, which he's been doing for a long time now. But it's not quite so easy to see what someone is all about when they're being bashed from all sides. After spending much more time than ever this year reading up on Bill and paying attention to him - whether it be him on the sidelines or at press conferences or whatever - I can honestly say he's one of my favorite people in sports. I think he stays true to himself and his team, and I really don't care what anyone says, I think he's a man of integrity. I will be rooting for him harder than ever in 2008 to win another Super Bowl, and I hope he stays with the Pats for a long time.
Anyway, I was looking over the poem by Rudyard Kipling, "IF," and it seemed to me to epitomize what Bill has been about. Many of you may know it, and it is kind of overly-sentimental. But I couldn't help smiling after the Super Bowl as I read it. I have to admit, I changed one key word in the following version, but I thought I would post it here in tribute to one of the best coaches in the history of the game:
Quote:
IF
If you can keep your head when all about you
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you,
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you
But make allowance for their doubting too,
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
Or being lied about, don't deal in lies,
Or being hated, don't give way to hating,
And yet don't look too good, nor talk too wise:
If you can dream--and not make dreams your master,
If you can think--and not make thoughts your aim;
If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster
And treat those two impostors just the same;
If you can bear to hear the truth you've spoken
Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,
Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,
And stoop and build 'em up with worn-out tools:
If you can make one heap of all your winnings
And risk it all on one turn of pitch-and-toss,
And lose, and start again at your beginnings
And never breath a word about your loss;
If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
To serve your turn long after they are gone,
And so hold on when there is nothing in you
Except the Will which says to them: "Hold on!"
If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
Or walk with kings--nor lose the common touch,
If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you;
If all men count with you, but none too much,
If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds' worth of distance run,
Yours is the Earth and everything that's in it,
And--which is more--you'll be a Pat, my son!
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