What it's like to be coached by Bill Belichick

CHRISTIAN FAURIA HAD heard all the rumors about his new head coach long before he arrived in New England.

It was 2002, and the former second-round pick had just turned 30. He was a free agent for the first time in his career, on the verge of a decent payday, but he had endured countless ankle injuries, and his primary goal was to protect his body for the long term. Bill Belichick did not seem like the guy to do it.

"The reputation [Belichick had], whether he knew it or not, was he wasn't good when it came to protecting his players," Fauria said. "It was rumored to be really tough, and he was supposedly really snarky and unapproachable."

Still, the New England Patriots were fresh off a Super Bowl, so Fauria rolled the dice. During his initial visit, he had told Belichick about his injury history and his hope to be handled with care to maximize his impact on Sundays, but he hadn't held out much hope the coach would follow through.

Then came the first week of padded practices in preseason camp. Fauria was jogging out to the field when a trainer stopped him.

"You're down today," the trainer said.

Half the team stared at Fauria. He remembers Ty Law chirping, "Why's he getting a day off already?" He felt a bit guilty, he said, but what was clear is Belichick had kept his word.

As the 2002 season wore on, Fauria realized, more and more, that all the rumors he had heard about his head coach were garbage. Belichick was nothing like he had assumed.

"Everybody has a different experience with Bill," Fauria said, "but for me, I instantly trusted him, and as a coach, that's the No. 1 thing you're trying to achieve."

What's it like to play for the greatest coach in NFL history? That's lesson No. 1. The public image looks nothing like the guy behind the curtain.

As Belichick settles into the coaching job at North Carolina -- his first season in college -- there are plenty of big questions about what this experiment will look like. Belichick, himself, admits he still has no idea just how good this team can be. But if the setting is new, the Belichick image -- and its more grounded counterpoint -- look about the same as they did during Fauria's time in New England. Belichick is a football-obsessed, details-oriented coaching machine, who's also a teacher at heart and, believe it or not, a pretty funny guy.

"It definitely wasn't what I expected it to be," Fauria said of his time with Belichick. "I thought I'd be miserable there, but it was the best four years of my playing career. [Belichick] could not have been more open and honest and approachable. More than any coach I'd ever had, really."

WHEN QUARTERBACK Gio Lopez jumped from South Alabama to North Carolina this past spring, he knew his new home would come with its share of surreal moments, and he had been waiting for this one.

Here he was, a once-unheralded recruit, now sitting in a film room with a six-time Super Bowl champion head coach, breaking down film of Belichick's most prized protégé, Tom Brady.

The way Lopez had always studied film was pretty straightforward: Here's the concept. Here's your first read, second read and so on. Belichick saw things at another level.

"He's talking about how a fumble in the second quarter changed the way a play unfolded in the fourth quarter," Lopez said.

Belichick is the Roger Ebert of game film. He's obsessed, he's critical and he sees details in what transpires on film that no one else does.

More importantly, former Patriots great Tedy Bruschi said, Belichick can translate all that information into something easily consumed by the average player in a way few others can.

"As much information as he'll try to give you, he'll give it to you in the simplest form he possibly can," Bruschi said. "He teaches it where you can understand it, digest it and, OK, for my particular job, what I have to do on this play, I'm clear on that. And that's all he wants you to think about."

See job, do job. Leave the hard stuff to Belichick.

And so Lopez settled in to watch film of the most successful QB in NFL history with the most successful coach in NFL history expecting Belichick to gush over just how beautifully the system works.

Click.

Brady drops back. Brady unleashes a pass. Julian Edelman hauls it in for a first down.

Thoughts?

"I just thought it was a good play," Lopez said.

That's the mistake, Belichick explained. No play is pass-fail. There are degrees of success, and on this one, Brady had fallen well short of the mark.

"If he'd put the ball another 2 feet to the outside," Belichick explained, "Edelman gains 15 more yards on the play. That changes the entire course of this drive."

And the outcome of that drive changes what happens on the next one, impacts decisions made late in the game, shifts what the defense is asked to do -- dominoes, each one knocking over another before reaching a final score.

Lopez shook his head. This is why he chose North Carolina. This was the secret sauce that made Belichick great, and here he was, a month removed from playing in the Sun Belt, being taught by the master.

"This guy knows it all," Lopez said. "It's one of those situations where you sit back, zip your lips and open your ears."

ALGE CRUMPLER WAS at the tail end of his career when he landed with the Patriots in 2010. He was a star with the Atlanta Falcons, but his body was battered and, if he was being honest, his contributions to an NFL offense were limited now. He could block, which in New England was still a prized asset. He could teach, and the Patriots wanted a mentor for a talented young tight end by the name of Rob Gronkowski, whom they had drafted that year.

That's what Belichick needed from Crumpler. No more, no less.

"He only puts you on the field to do the things that you're good at," Crumpler said.

So Crumpler was a bit surprised when he was tabbed as part of the Patriots' leadership council that season -- a backup tight end winding down his career, sharing the job with Brady, Jerod Mayo and Vince Wilfork. The way Crumpler saw it, he had no business being in the same room with those guys, so he mostly kept his mouth shut.

"I'm sitting there in that room with Tom and Jerod and Vince, and [Belichick's] getting in-depth with them, and they're being very candid," Crumpler recalled. "I didn't want to say a thing. Why do I need to say anything with this group that's been here so many years?"

After a few minutes of conversation with the stars, Belichick finally turned and glared at Crumpler, who was silently watching the proceedings.

"You're here for a f---ing reason," Belichick said. "Open your mouth."

Suddenly, a light switched on. The man at the top had given Crumpler his blessing to offer real insight on a team he'd just joined.

"It created a dialogue," Crumpler said, "and it was a great season."

Bruschi was already a fixture in the Patriots' locker room when Belichick arrived in 2000, and at the time, he was best known, as Bruschi said, as "the coach who failed in Cleveland."

That turned out to be a luxury, Bruschi said. The pair "grew up" together, a relationship of mutual respect in which the player felt empowered to push back.

After three Super Bowls, however, Bruschi saw things begin to change as new players arrived. Belichick certainly wasn't a failure, but neither was he a normal coach anymore.

"They'd see Belichick as a legend," Bruschi said. "It's going to be difficult for these kids to get over the fact that he's highly accomplished, and he's just a coach that's trying to get you better."

The image is tougher to dismiss when a horde of cameras follows Belichick at every public appearance, and his girlfriend, Jordon Hudson, is a social media star.

For Belichick, however, it's all "noise."

"It is what it is," Belichick said, in his typically subdued tone during an interview with ESPN.

And yet, inside the football facility, it's an image Belichick has tried to discourage. His first team meeting he wore a suit and tie, receiver Jordan Shipp said, and after that, it was all cut-off sweatshirts.

He has made a point of being accessible to players, getting involved in all segments during practice, insisting on an air of approachability.

"Some of it is me coming to them," Belichick said.

It's the side of Belichick few outside the locker room see, but, if anything, it's the real Belichick.

"You'll see Coach laugh," Crumpler said of his time in New England. "You never see it in the media. He can tell a story every day that will make you laugh, but still be serious at the same time. That was great."

It was mid-May, however, and Shipp had to go to his head coach with a request for some time away.

There were meetings scheduled Shipp knew were important, but his younger brother was going to graduate that week, and ...

Belichick stopped him in his tracks.

"That's something you don't miss," Belichick told him.

Skip the meetings. Go home. Be with family. That mattered more.

If there's anything the UNC sophomore has learned about his new head coach in the past eight months, it's that the image Belichick has curated with the media has never matched reality for his players.

"Sometimes you forget it's the greatest coach of all time," Shipp said. "His office is always open. I can go in and watch film whenever. It's a safe space with him at all times."

JAMIE COLLINS HAD crushed the combine in 2013, and a slew of requests followed from teams hoping for private workouts ahead of the draft. He had participated in his share, but by early April, he was done. He had called his agent and given an ultimatum: no more.

It was a little strange then that his phone kept buzzing one morning soon after his edict. He had calls from his agent, a few coaches, some teammates. He ignored them all.

Then came the beating on his bedroom door, his roommate yelling, "Bill Belichick wants to see you."

Belichick was interested in drafting Collins, and no mandate against additional private workouts was going to stop him from seeing the guy play, so he simply showed up in Hattiesburg, Mississippi, unannounced, and expected Collins to comply.

Collins did.

"He put me through it, man," Collins said. "He tried to break me."

Collins' determination was the last thing Belichick needed to see before the Patriots drafted him in the second round. He would spend seven years playing for Belichick before following him into coaching this year at North Carolina.

That's the other part of Belichick's magic formula, Collins said. He wants players willing to maximize all Belichick has to teach them. It's a two-way street. He demands much, but the buy-in from his players -- they have to provide that willingly. That's the test they must pass before they can gain access to the vault of football knowledge Belichick has to share.

Upon arrival in Chapel Hill, Belichick branded the Tar Heels as "the 33rd NFL team," conjuring an image of militaristic fervor -- all football, all the time. And yet, UNC's players insist it's not that way at all. If anything, they're enjoying more freedom than ever.

"I was expecting him to be a lot of what you see in interviews -- very mundane, always cussing you out," safety Will Hardy said. "He's an encourager."

Yes, Belichick has brought a lot of the NFL to UNC -- GM Michael Lombardi, a former Patriots strength coach, a chef.

But, Lopez said, there are fewer meetings than he was used to at South Alabama, and while the players are expected to work with a sense of professionalism, Belichick and his staff have largely allowed them the freedom to do so without micromanagement.

"They expect you to want to be great," Lopez said. "It's more like they expect you to want to learn it. It's a lot different than South Alabama. They give you more room to function."

He did that in pros, and he's giving the Tar Heels the same freedom to choose their path.

"He treats you like a grown man," Collins said. "And he's going to provide everything you need to be successful. That's where that expectation comes from. He's not going to ask anything from you that he hasn't already given you [what] you need to accomplish it."

There are ample questions about how Belichick's NFL pedigree will translate to the college game, and his interactions with 18- to 22-year-old players is at the top of the list.

But Collins admits that might be the one way his old coach has changed. Belichick has softened around the edges a bit.

"I've seen the Bill that was coaching us," said Collins, UNC's inside linebackers coach. "And I've seen a different side of Bill coaching these guys. That's the eliteness of him, understanding situations. It's what makes him great. It's still Bill though."

Fauria thinks the new age of college football actually lends to Belichick's strengths. Players view themselves as professionals more than ever before, and in a game increasingly determined by dollars and cents, the old rules of placating personalities rather than simply paying for talent are out the window.

"If this was 10 years ago, I don't know if he'd have the stomach for it," Fauria said. "I'm not sure if he's willing to go to someone's house and do 'The Electric Slide' in someone's living room. But Bill is prepared for this. He's tailor-made for this job based on how it has evolved."

Will it look a little different at North Carolina? Probably, but the core of the process, Bruschi said, won't change. From those first days in the Patriots' locker room in 2000 to the first days in Chapel Hill now, Belichick is the same guy with the same laser focus on football and the same approach to building a team. The success or failure of that methodology will, according to the players who've won rings with him in New England, depend on how much these Tar Heels are willing to maximize the experience, not on how well Belichick adapts to his new surroundings.

"If you're looking for structure, you're going to get it," Fauria said. "If you're looking for knowledge, you're going to get it. If you're looking for a road map and directions and information and the why -- why are we doing this? -- he literally tells you. He'd give you examples. Tons of information. When people say he's going to have you more prepared than anybody, I don't think that's hyperbole. It's demanding and it's hard, but if you crave the challenge and appreciate the grind and you love football, there's nobody better."