Petty cheating makes Belichick look small

As someone who supports nearly every form of skullduggery, misdirection, banditry, disingenuousness and low-level cheating, I wish at this moment to express my profound disappointment at Bill Belichick.

Bill Belichick doesn't seem concerned about things at Wednesday's practice. (AP)

Not just because he (well, the Patriots, who are multiples of Belichick) got caught filming the New York Jets coaches' sideline signals, which is pretty weak cheating and always is when you get caught. Not even because he got caught by Roger Goodell, Hall Monitor To The Stars, either, although Friday's meeting ought to be entertaining in that get-sent-to-the-principal-and-pretend-to-be-contrite kind of way.

No, Belichick lets us down because filming the other team's signals is just so ... well, so Little League parents stuff. It seems far beneath a man with three Super Bowl rings.

I mean, if you're gonna cheat, cheat like it means something. Cheat for something that means something. Cheat like you're Leo Durocher, not Claire Danes.

And no, before we go any further, this isn't "gaining an edge." Gaining an edge is when your wideout is faster and stronger than their safety. Gaining an edge is when your linebacker can anticipate the snap count down to a quarter-second. Gaining an edge is getting the other team to get in limos and head to a casino for a night-before wine-cheese-and-insomniac-hookers party.

You know what this is? This is a soccer mom stealing the other team's halftime orange slices.

So yes, the trick is in knowing a worthwhile edge from a waste of time. Al Davis knew how to work an edge, because he worked all of them, to the point where his opponents on the field and in the boardroom figured he was up to something only when he was awake.

And he wasn't alone. George Halas ... Paul Brown ... George Allen ... they all worked both sides of the alley and had no problem sleeping at night.

This, though, is so unbelievably lightweight on the grand historical scale. Stealing signals from the Jets is bad enough, but getting caught at it, a year after getting caught doing the same thing to the Packers ... the PACKERS, for God's sake ... well, please. You're kidding, right? Does Bill Belichick seem like the sort of cranky middle-aged bastard who says, "Oh, and don't forget to get a credential for our sneak camera guy?" What else? "Oh, and make sure those laxative pills get in their Gatorade coolers no later than 11:30." I mean, what is he, pledging a fraternity at Didn't Pay Enough Attention In High School Technical School?

And don't even try to defend it because Eric Mangini is a treacherous know-it-all gasbag who stabbed Belichick in the back, either. By that logic, Belichick should still be living next door to Bill Parcells. If you hate a guy, fine. Then punish him the way God meant football coaches to deliver punishment. Don't try to kill him with paper cuts, or by writing scurrilous notes to his sophomore girlfriend saying he's dating a junior.

Is this unprecedented knavery? Of course not. Is Belichick being picked on because he's, well, Belichick? Let's hope so. Is there Patriot envy out there in the kingdom? How could there not be?

But as Bill Veeck once said, or at least paraphrased in the original Latin, never steal anything you wouldn't be proud of having stolen. And stealing the Jets' signals is actually like Huxley stealing the Darwin signals in the old Marx Brothers classic, Horse Feathers, only without Thelma Todd in the rowboat. Pure small time.

Thus, with this extremely petty larceny as the backdrop, let us fervently hope that Goodell handles this with the surety and swiftness with which he dropped the hammer on Michael Vick. We care not whether they have to give up draft choices, forfeit the Jets game, suspend Belichick, fine Bob Kraft or put together a list of front office personnel to be spayed.