Dear Bill
By Kristen Merrill

So, Bill. May I call you Bill? I feel like after ten years we should be on a first name basis.

So...Bill. I don’t know quite how to say this but, I’m worried about you. I’m concerned. I have agita, Bill, I do. I feel like maybe you’ve gotten yourself in over your head this time. Like maybe you’ve bitten off more than you can chew and you’re too proud to ask for help.

What do I mean? I mean just that, Bill. I mean that you’ve apparently decided to go into the 2010 football season without employing either an offensive or defensive coordinator. You’re going to take on both jobs yourself. And while I appreciate your take-charge attitude, I’m a little concerned about your ability to pull it off.

Not that you’re not a superhero, Bill. I’d never suggest such a thing. Believe me. I remember how you coaxed magic out of thin air by seeing something in Tom Brady that everyone else missed for five draft rounds. I remember the intentional safety in Denver during that Monday Night game. I remember the goal line stand in Indianapolis and the touchdown passes to Mike Vrabel and the two-point conversion to Kevin Faulk. Don’t worry, I remember. We all remember. But the thing is, lately? Things haven’t been going quite so well. I’m concerned your ego is getting just slightly out of check. Like, in the way that Godzilla slightly destroys Tokyo.

So what is it, Bill? What’s the problem? Are you concerned about loyalty? I understand that many of your former coordinators have gone to head coaching jobs elsewhere. And they’ve been largely unsuccessful. But this past season, you had to deal with some marginal success by the likes of Denver’s Josh McDaniels. And it wasn’t fun losing in overtime to a team wearing barber-pole stockings and quarterbacked by Kyle Orton, of all the neck-beard wearing doofuses.

Plus, McDaniels wasn’t exactly shy about telling everyone who asked that he was employing the techniques he’d learned in New England. So that’s not cool with you, I get it. If you don’t have any coordinators to teach, then there is no one to steal your ideas when they inevitably leave to coach Oakland or San Diego or Cincinnati. That almost makes sense.

Nevertheless, there are only so many hours in the day. While it’s entirely possible that you are not subject to the human necessities of food and sleep, I still think you could benefit from some help in the form of two coordinators. The offensive and defensive lieutenants you plan to live without are utter necessities to the other 31 NFL coaches.

Is it a pride thing? If it is, I recommend reviewing the results from some big games these past two seasons. Things didn’t go so well without an offensive coordinator. There was the Indianapolis game and then the playoff game against Baltimore. I guess what I’m saying, Bill, is that really, you need some help. I promise you no one will think you’re weak if you hire a coordinator. No one will take shots at your pride. Besides, can you think of anything that smarts more than losing on an unconverted 4th-and-2 to Indianapolis in that shrieking horror-dome they call the Lucas Oil Stadium? 

Also, Bill? There’s the matter of scouting and, you know, acquiring players. Because while I appreciate that the team is showing loyalty to Kevin Faulk, the fact remains that Faulk will be 34 when the season begins. While that may be young for many lines of work, it’s elderly for a running back. So someone has to bring in new players.

I love that you’re on top of the scouting and all that, Bill, but lately there’s been a lack of talent development and player evaluating – and it sort of seems like you’re doing everything possible to screw over Oakland. And trust me, I love screwing over Oakland. Tweaking Al Davis and that disaster of a franchise is one of our favorite pastimes in New England. The thing is, it was Oakland who got the best of the Derrick Burgess deal.

So maybe, just maybe, you should leave it to someone else to take the lead role in the whole “evaluating of talent and signing of players to contracts” thing. Because otherwise I fear you’ll become so obsessed with messing with Oakland that you’ll forget to sign a punter or a tight end and will be forced to either (a) suit up yourself and take the field for half the plays or (b) attempt to make that commercial from a few years ago a reality and draft the Diet Pepsi machine. Neither of these things is a good idea for several obvious reasons. Suffice it to say that despite how much we love your “Who gives a shit?” hoodie look here in New England, none of us has any desire to see you in football pants. And also? Machines still aren’t legal in the NFL. 

Bill, I hope you know this advice comes from a place of love. It’s because I care about you. No one around here is going to forget what you’ve done for us and our franchise. You’ve taken the Patriots from the butt of all NFL jokes to the kings of the NFL. But perhaps a little humility is good for all of us every once and a while. And if 2007 through 2009 didn’t humble you just a teensy bit, then maybe you do have more in common with the Diet Pepsi machine than you do with any of us fans. So for us, Bill, I’m asking, no, I’m begging – please ask for help. You owe it to yourself to get a good night’s sleep once in a while. The team deserves that much. 

Kristen Merrill, a freelance writer, is a 2002 graduate of Emerson College. She lives in Cambridge with her New York sports fan boyfriend, not to mention several dust bunnies and bobbleheads. Her column appears daily at NESN.com (www.nesn.com/kristen-merrill/). She also runs the popular sports blog “Basegirl” (www.basegirl.blogspot.com). She’s a sucker for Boston sports teams, straight tequila, and power ballads. Particularly Journey.