How does the Patriots head coach rejuvenate so many NFL players whose careers have faded somewhere else? By being more benefactor than dictator

What’s hard to understand about Bill Belichick scowling on the sidelines and grunting through press conferences like a splenetic badger is that he’s actually a player’s coach. Few men who run NFL teams understand the nuances of their subject’s football lives – fulfilling their minds while preserving their bodies – better than the coach who built New England’s championship machine.

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It’s a difficult concept for many to imagine, given the way Belichick demands so much from his teams. He’s often portrayed as a tyrant, relentlessly driving assistant coaches or dumping stars at the moment of their decline. Many of his cuts and trades come as surprises. He once released a player on Christmas Day. But the majority of his players, especially those who arrived mid-career, remember their Patriots years fondly. Mostly because of the coach who made their days easy.

Want to understand the incredible redemptive powers of Belichick? Want to know how players like Randy Moss, Mike Vrabel and Rodney Harrison come to New England at what appears to be the end, and become rejuvenated? Want to know how running back Dion Lewis can fail in Philadelphia, be cast off in Indianapolis and Cleveland only to find a home on the NFL’s best team, scoring three touchdowns in last weekend’s playoff win over Houston?

Because to Belichick’s players he is more a benefactor than dictator.

“He is the ultimate player’s coach,” former Patriots cornerback Shawn Springs told the Guardian. “I don’t know how else to tell you this. The way that he is would be the way I’d like to be if I was a coach.”

Springs played one season in New England. He doesn’t count as one of Belichick’s biggest revival projects, having been a top corner for 12 years in Seattle and Washington before he arrived in 2009. He was, however, one of the coach’s late-career success stories; a 34-year-old, slowed by injuries, who nonetheless played well in that lone season, filling several roles in the secondary and helping the Pats to a division title.

It would be Springs’ last year in football and one of his favorite.

When Belichick met with Springs to discuss the player’s role on the team that season, he startled Springs by suggesting he not practice many Wednesdays during the season.

“You’ve been in the league for 13 years – you know what to do,” he remembered Belichick telling him. “Do your stretching, get a hot tub and make sure to do your studying. Let the younger guys run around out there they can use the work.”

“I was like: ‘Really?’” Springs recalled.

This is Belichick’s approach with experienced players. He expects they already know the basic principles taught at practice, and assumes they know how to keep themselves in shape. The chances are he had already researched that player both on film and in his extensive interviews of everybody who joins the team. He trusts the player will prepare diligently, studying that week’s game plan and can afford to let the player save his body for the games.

“Bill’s thing was: do your job,” Springs said. “That’s all he cared about. He’d hold you accountable. Don’t do dumb stuff, don’t go out and party. Just come to practice, study your stuff and do your job.”

Do your job.

No sound is sweeter to a veteran football player. Few coaches give experienced players as much leeway as Belichick does. Most are taskmasters who drive everybody in practice, regardless of how many years they have in the league. They allow few freedoms, because they worry that doing so will either create resentment among other players or lead to a lack of discipline. But most players in their late 20s or 30s hate being treated like rookies. They don’t want their lives controlled. They want an acknowledgement that they’re adults who have already torn up their ankles and knees playing a violent game. Telling them to sit out the most grueling day of practice every week goes a long way to building trust.

The elixir is not some training program, or rejuvenation plan. It’s simply a coach who understands older players

Of course, not every coach has the luxury of a .739 winning percentage and six Super Bowls, as Belichick does. Nor has anyone else had Tom Brady, one of the best quarterbacks in history, running their offense for the last 16 years. Few players are going to come to New England and question a coach with such a success record or defy Brady. Repeated winning certainly helps create a culture that inspires players.

“When I signed with the Pats, I knew we were going to win some football games,” running back Corey Dillon, one of Belichick’s greatest revival projects told me in 2005. “I also knew the pressure wasn’t going to be on me to strap the franchise on my back and take them to the Super Bowl. Just look at it. Without me they won two of the last three (Super Bowls XXXVI and XXXVIII). With me coming in, I was more relaxed in knowing we had guys who could get things done.”

Belichick is legendary for remaking his defenses each week depending on the opponent. Younger players have said he can do this because he is very good at explaining the changes in a way that everyone can understand. But also he seems to older players to have an excellent grasp on their abilities having scouted them extensively through their careers, and he is never afraid to move a player into a new position or unfamiliar role to make them succeed.

Though these move might seem disruptive, they are generally welcomed, because Belichick has already built trust with his relaxed practice schedules, his belief they will prepare properly without prompting, and his track record of successfully moving players around. In other words: if Belichick thinks it’s a good idea, it generally is.

Before Springs’ last game with the Patriots, a wildcard round playoff game against Baltimore, Belichick approached him with a plan. Would Springs spend the entire game defending no one but the Ravens star tight end Todd Heap? Normally, Springs would be assigned to a wide receiver who would be faster and harder to chase. Belichick was worried about Heap, however, and figured Springs’ speed would allow him to be effective on Heap.

“I’ve been thinking about this a lot,” Springs remembered Belichick telling him. “They have been throwing to Heap a lot, and I’d like you to lock him up early. If Flacco can’t get it to him right away he will panic.”

As he told this story, Springs chuckled.

“All I had to do was take away a tight end?” he said, still almost amazed at the simplicity of the task. “Bill, I can do that all day!”

Baltimore wound up winning that game when their pass rush overwhelmed the Pats’ offensive line, forcing Brady into an abnormally ragged game. But Heap didn’t catch a pass, and Flacco only completed four of his throws. At least Belichick’s plan for Springs worked perfectly that day. Just like it does with most of his veteran players.

This is what many of them find when they come to New England, their careers having faded somewhere else. The elixir is not some secret training program, or a magical rejuvenation plan. It’s simply a coach who understands older players and knows how to use them.