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Bill Belichick is a Genius

There is no way to deny the sheer impressiveness associated with this man, and frankly I'm tired of the press casting doubts about his greatness every time a tiny chink in the armor appears, as was the case last night. Billick outcoach Belichick? Are you kidding me? Don't you know who you are talking about?


You are talking about The Bill. The Mad Croatian who's name translates to the Shortening of the Way in English. The man who once made Eric Mangini's eyebrows fall off by staring intently at him for several minutes. You better stop and consider the forces you are messing with here. I'm not going to be responsible if this happens again. Doubt him at your own peril.

Let's run down his list of accomplishments and regain some perspective:

    He is the best coach in the history of organized sports.

    He speaks seven languages, including |33t.

    His playbook is written in Base 11, for clarity.

    He jots down additions to the Linux kernel during times out.

    He once crossed a scalar with a vector. The product of that union was Jon Bon Jovi.

    He has mind control over Deebo.

    He knows the real words to Benny Lava.

    His prostate achieved self-awareness on March 9th, 2003, and is responsible for the last three seasons of J.A.G.

    He chooses draft picks based on Reimann zeta probability statistics:


    where x is a positive integer equal to his own badassedness.

    He only sings the verse to End of the World As We Know It .

    He controls Tom Brady's liaison's through a Bene Gesserit breeding progam designed to one day overthrow Don Shula's descendants.

    He started the rumor that Mr. Rogers was a sniper in Viet Nam, for reasons known only to himself.

    He personally braids Randy Moss's hair every morning according to an algorithm to maximize intra-helmet laminar airflow.

    He leaves an origami unicorn in any team's locker room that is able to beat him.

    Every time his name is spelled correctly a sparrow falls from the sky.

    He was once trapped in an elevator with Bryant Gumbel for three hours, who was too in awe to mutter a single word.

    When he watches Star Wars, there are no Ewoks in it.

    He can smell a pimp from a mile away.

    His nail-clippings kill fire ants.

    He once body-slammed Bill Parcells during an altercation over a club sandwich. Then gave him the sandwich.

    He suspected Ender's enemies were real.

    He is the only man alive who has proof that Johnny Cash was a vampire.

    He prefers Mazatlán after it became touristy.

    The only thing he is afraid of is salamanders.

    He once ordered a small coffee and a fritter at Starbucks. The barista gave him a Venti half-caf Mocha and a caramel praline muffin, then took off her shirt.

    His coaching tree includes Nick Saban, Jim Schwartz, and Lee Majors.

    He can watch Time Cop and Lionheart straight through.

    His life has an ABABUpDownLeftRightSelectSelectStart feature.

    His wallet is the one that says El Chingon.

    He turned down the offer to play Quint in Jaws. In his version the fingernail/on/chalkboard scene lasted eight minutes.

    He has a relevant opinion on Ted Marchibroda.

    His most influential role model is Snake-Eyes.

    He knows you are reading this.