Model Franchises
It was really something watching the New England Patriots get blown out 47-17 by the Buffalo Bills last weekend. It wasn’t just a bad loss—it was historically bad. The Bills offense scored seven touchdowns on seven drives. They never punted; they never kicked a field goal; they never turned the ball over. They only failed to score on their last drive because they took a knee to end the game. The Patriots’ defense, which was fourth best in the league this season, was just thoroughly dismantled.
This kind of thing is not supposed to happen to the Patriots. Ever since Bill Belichick became their head coach, the Patriots have been a model franchise, known for always being competitive and never getting embarrassed. So it was weird, and fun, to watch them get pushed around—and not just because it knocked them off their high horse.
I am on record as saying that the Officially Correct Pro-Labor position is to root for Tom Brady’s Buccaneers.
But a corollary of that is to root against the Patriots. Ever since Brady left New England for Tampa Bay, the comparative fates of the two teams have seemed like a referendum on who was REALLY responsible for the Patriots dynasty. And while the Buccaneers won the Super Bowl last year and easily dispatched the Philadelphia Eagles last weekend, the aura has clearly faded from Belichick’s Patriots. They haven’t fallen apart or anything, but last year—their first without Brady—was the first time they finished under .500 since Brady became the starter. And while Mac Jones had a great rookie year this season, the loss to the Bills suggests that they are a long way from the team that made eight straight AFC Championship Games not too long ago.
Back in the heyday of the Patriots’ dynasty, the NBA team they were most often compared to was the San Antonio Spurs. Like the Patriots, the Spurs’ run was noteworthy for its length—five titles over 15 years, with four other appearances in the Conference Finals. Like the Patriots, the Spurs had a coach that many considered the best ever. Like the Patriots, the Spurs were considered a model franchise, the kind of franchise that could salvage careers of washed up veterans and turn mediocre players into All-Stars. And like Patriots, the Spurs’ success hinged on the careers of an all-time great player.
But in the Spurs’ case, the team seemed well-positioned to sustain their success beyond Tim Duncan’s retirement. Indeed, in their first year without Duncan the Spurs went further in the playoffs than they had in their last year with him. Kawhi Leonard seemed destined to be their next superstar, taking the reins from Duncan as seamlessly as Duncan had taken them from David Robinson in the 1990s.
Until it all blew up, in rather frustrating fashion. In 2017-18, Leonard missed the first 27 games of the year, and then returned for nine games before injuring himself again. Later, the Spurs’ doctors cleared him to play, but Leonard requested a second opinion from his own doctors and refused to play, even after a supposedly tense team meeting. Things between the team and the player deteriorated so much that Leonard requested a trade, and that off-season he was sent to Toronto (where he promptly led the Raptors to the championship) for DeMar DeRozan and change. But since they lost Leonard, they have not won a playoff series. In 2020 and 2021, they missed the playoffs in consecutive seasons for the first time since the franchise joined the NBA. And they seem destined to miss it this year again.
At first, the Spurs’ issues were blamed on DeRozan, who was not the superstar that Leonard was. But this year DeRozan went to Chicago, and now the Bulls, who finished last year with a worse record than the Spurs, are in first place in the East. So maybe the issue wasn’t DeRozan—maybe it was the Spurs.
This is a tough thing to admit, because Gregg Popovich so much more likable than Belichick, but I think in both cases, the aura that was attributed to a “model franchise” was really about one great player.* I really want to stress how common it was to talk about these teams like they had some mystical power to get the most out of every player. Like they could sprinkle magic fairy dust on an undrafted journeyman like Bruce Bowen and turn him into an elite defender. Or on a perpetually disappointing malcontent like Randy Moss and get a record-setting season from him.
*Or one great core: I shouldn’t underrate the roles of Tony Parker and Manu Ginobili in the Spurs’ success. They also each left after the 2018 season, when the team traded Leonard, and their absence in these lean years doesn’t seem coincidental.
But maybe it was just that Moss had never had a quarterback as good as Brady throwing to him. And maybe Bowen had never been on a team with enough offensive weapons to hide his deficiencies on that end.
I’m not trying to say that Belichick and Popovich are not great coaches. Or even that the Spurs and Patriots aren’t well-run franchises. But none of that stuff is as important as the players. People often wonder why none of Belichick’s assistants have had much success as NFL coaches—maybe the reason is simply that none of them had Tom Brady.
I know I’m not exactly breaking new ground by saying Brady and Tim Duncan are great players. But what I’m interested in his how certain qualities—those hard to quantify, little things that make a star athlete a star—end up getting attributed to the coach or the franchise. People thought there was some “Patriot Way” that attracted guys like Moss and other vets, and brought out the best in them—but maybe those guys just liked playing with Brady.
And the thing is, once the teams and coaches start to believe their own bullshit, the whole thing implodes. Brady’s split from the Patriots seems to have been precipitated by them being unwilling to commit to him for two more seasons; the team apparently felt it was more important to plan for a post-Brady future than to preserve their Brady present for as long as they could. And the Spurs felt that they knew Kawhi Leonard’s body better than he did. They were so confident about this that they were willing to destroy their relationship with the superstar. Now the future of both teams is uncertain.
Maybe both will be back. I would not necessarily bet against it. Popovich and Belichick are both brilliant. But brilliance doesn’t get you very far in sports without the right players. And since their respective stars left, it’s been interesting to watch these exceptional coaches look downright normal.