*I have told this story before ... but I cannot write about the Pro Bowl without telling my favorite Bill Belichick story. People have often asked: What is it that makes Belichick so good at this coaching thing? Sure, he's brilliant about breaking down film and devising a gameplan that attacks another team's weaknesses. Sure, he's all about winning -- and as such has not allowed loyalty (Sorry son, we're letting you go), tradition (Fourth and two -- go for it) or good taste (Are those cameras pointing right at the sidelines?) to muddle the mission.
But there's something else -- something harder to describe. Tony Gonzalez was in the Pro Bowl every year from 1999 to 2008. He is, in my view, the best pass-catching tight end in NFL history. Tony -- and I say this with a great deal of affection -- is also very Hollywood. Oh, he plays hard and he blocks and he will get dirty if necessary. But he also invented this new position: The glamour tight end. He co-wrote a diet book. He worked with Oprah. He's friends with the Naked Chef. And so on.
So ... he was at the Pro Bowl and Belichick was coaching (unhappily, no doubt -- the Pro Bowl coach is the one who LOST the Championship Game) and he put Gonzalez on special teams. Well, that's part of the deal with the Pro Bowl -- stars have to play on special teams. So Gonzalez was going through the motions on special teams, like Pro Bowlers do. He wasn't about to get hurt blocking someone at a Pro Bowl -- everyone understood the rules. Well, Gonzalez thought everyone understood the rules. He was walking off the field and Belichick says: "Why don't you (bleeping) block somebody, Gonzalez?"
Gonzalez looked back at the man. Was he serious? He looked serious. Wait, WAS HE SERIOUS? Tony Gonzalez, playing in his eighth consecutive pro Bowl, and this guy was telling him to block somebody on special teams. He had to be joking. No, seriously, he HAD TO BE JOKING.
But he was not joking. Gonzalez was furious. He fumed on the sideline. How dare this man -- HOW DARE THIS MAN -- yell at him, curse at him, who in the hell did he think he was? And on the next kickoff, Gonzalez was still raging -- HOW DARE THIS MAN -- and the ball went over his head, and he found an opponent, and he crushed the guy, absolutely pancaked his guy. And then Gonzalez made sure, absolutely sure, to walk by Bill Belichick, that SOB, and Belichick did not say a word, not a single word, and Gonzalez thought: "Yeah, that's right." And just as he was almost out of range, he heard Belichick say: "Nice block."
And then he knew -- he had been utterly manipulated by the master. And how did he feel about it? Well: "I felt really good," Gonzalez said sheepishly.
