Scouring the Web for Patriots / football content (it's a far wider and more intensive a search than anyone has to undertake for baseball writing--a fact I will always lament), I came across the interesting site All Things Bill Belichik. There isn't that much there in the way of original content, but it's a pretty good metablog / media aggregator for anything having to do with The Grey-Hooded Genius.
In perusing that site, I came across an article from the Globe from almost a year ago that I missed, called "Bill Belichik, CEO." It was published in their business section--the reporter basically called up a bunch of CEOs in his Rolodex, such as Jack Welch (nice contact, though), and asked them their opinion of Bill Belichick from a management standpoint. Nice little article, that.
A google search for the title reveals philosophyfootball.com, which gave me hope, until I realized it was a sporting goods operation and not a salon wherein like-minded folks and I could discuss runs off tackle vs. the forward pass and their relative moral and ethical resonances. I also found an article entitled "Football and Philosophy," but unfortunately, it was devoted to that other football, which we provincial Americans call soccer.
About the closest I've come to Football and Philosophy is a book called The Meaning of Sports: Why Americans Watch Baseball, Football and Basketball and What They See When They Do, which had several interesting ideas peppered across a vast expanse of pedantic, repetitive, colorless prose.
Why is there no Roger Angell of football? Why is football beneath discussion in The New Yorker, while baseball (in the form of Angell) isn't?
Is it because football is fast and visual, and not given as a sport in and of itself to rumination, at least among its spectators? Is it because a medium besides the written word has already cornered its market? After all, while you rarely see videos of an entire baseball game, NFL films has made professional football the most-filmed human activity since World War II, and it will surpass that event given the former has continued and the latter has not.
But...I insist. But. In the Halberstam book I'm currently reading, much is written about Bill Belichick's early studies in football, how he and several of his friends became football geeks, watching and taking notes on scrimmages no one else attended, constantly drawing up plays when they should've been paying attention in class. Every so often someone offers me a glimpse of that seemingly closed world, the one that sees football as a chess match rather than a gladiatorial exercise. America gets off on football as violence; its engineers get off on it as science. It's that second part I want to know about, hear about, read about, understand better. Where is its representation? I can't let this go.
It may just be that we literary-minded folks who also happen to be passionate about football are a lonely sort. In fact, maybe I shouldn't use the word "we" at all.