When I hear about Mangini's paranoia, the secrecy over injuries, the threats of fining players whom he suspects of having given anonymous quotes or whose agents comment publicly about their clients' ailments, I think, "What a bunch of wasted energy." But I also can somewhat forgive him: He's young, and he thinks that by emulating Belichick in these ways he'll be destined for the same kind of towering success. Or perhaps he just got caught up in his "Mangenius" nickname and the guest turn on The Sopranos. Whatever: He's 36, and hopefully he'll grow up in the years to come.
Belichick is 55, and even though he's smarter than a fifth grader, he's acting like one. I've been a fan of his work from way, way back, through the post-Browns days when he was considered a classic head coaching washout, and despite his media-repellent ways we've had a good relationship for a long time. I want to see him enjoy the fruits of his labor and the legacy he has earned through hard work and exceptional acumen; I don't want to see him pushing photographers or revoking key cards or, worst of all, getting popped for cheating because he seemingly believed he could do whatever he wanted whenever he wanted, no matter who was watching.