It’s been a few weeks now since the New England Patriots were found to be using underinflated footballs in their 45-7 win over the Indianapolis Colts in the 2015 AFC championship game.
While it wasn’t a huge scandal, and it didn’t really rock the NFL, it still got its own nickname — DeflateGate — and seemed to add a little dirt to the reputation of the team that had been found guilty of videotaping another team’s signals — SpyGate — a few years earlier.
Who was guilty of ordering that Patriot footballs be underinflated by a couple pounds per square inch, to make them easier to throw and to catch? Was it the ultra-competitive head coach, Bill Belichick, or the famous player who would be doing the throwing, quarterback Tom Brady?
An investigation was promised.
And here’s my prediction. No one will be found guilty of ordering the footballs to be deflated. There will be no “smoking gun.” There will be no recovered e-mails.
Here’s why. These kinds of orders are given as hints. Suggestions. Wishes. When I was in the army, I learned how an upper-echelon officer could make a passing comment that would turn into an order by the time it trickled down the chain of command to us. For example, the Commanding Officer (CO) of a military post could make an observation as he was leaving, “Some roses would look nice by that front gate.” His Executive Officer might repeat it as “The CO wants some roses planted by the front gate.” Cue an eager-to-please newly minted lieutenant and some obedient and energetic privates, and by the next day there would be rose bushes at the front gate. One his next trip through the gate, the CO might be amazed, or amused, by the roses. Or he might not even notice. Did he really want roses planted at the front gate? Or was it just an idle observation? No one could know for sure. Maybe not even the CO.
A more famous example occurred in 1170. The King of England, Henry II, was in deep conflict with the Archbishop of Canterbury, Thomas Becket. One day the king was so furious at something Becket had done — or refused to do — that he shouted, “Will no one rid me of this troublesome priest?” Four knights overheard what the king had said and decided to handle it for him. They travelled to Canterbury, searched the Cathedral, and killed the archbishop.
In the following years, the four knights fell into disgrace, Canterbury Cathedral turned into a shrine that was visited by thousands, and Thomas Becket was canonized.
And the line, “Will no one rid me of this troublesome priest” echoed down through the centuries. We’re not sure if the king really meant it literally. Nor are we sure, of course, exactly what words the king used, but that’s the gist of it.
And this is the phrase that immediately came to mind the first time I heard about DeflateGate. I couldn’t imagine that the head coach or the quarterback gave specific orders and explicit directions on how they wanted the balls underinflated. But I could easily imagine how the quarterback could say, casually, off-hand, in passing, “It would be great if these balls had just a bit less air,” or maybe “I wish there was a way for these balls to be deflated just a tad.”
Someone ready to obey and eager to please could have heard the quarterback. Maybe it was an assistant coach, or a member of the equipment staff. Maybe it was two of them. Or four of them. Just like King Henry’s knights, they thought the request was important and truly desired. And they figured out a way to get it accomplished.
The investigation might find and charge the culprits whose hands literally let the air out of the footballs, just like we know the names of the four knights who hacked the archbishop to death: Reginald FitzUrse, William de Tracey, Hugh de Morville and Richard le Breton. But I doubt that the investigators will find out who issued the command.
Because there was no command. It was just “Some roses would look nice by that front gate.” It was just “Who will rid me of this troublesome priest.” “It was only “I wish there was a way to make these footballs a little softer.”
Maybe whoever it was — coach or quarterback — was up on his medieval history and actually said, as he squeezed a fully inflated football, “Will no one rid me of this troublesome pressure?” A man that smart almost deserves to win the Super Bowl.
