During an impromptu news conference Saturday, Coach Bill Belichick reiterated the New England Patriots' innocence in what has become known as Deflategate.
On at least two occasions as he lectured reporters about the physics of a football's natural weight loss, Belichick qualified his painstaking description of the process with the disclaimer "I am not a scientist."
Charles Liu is a scientist -- an astrophysics professor at the College of Staten Island, part of the City University of New York. Liu, an associate with the Hayden Planetarium at the American Museum of Natural History in Manhattan, is also an avid football fan, and after listening to Belichick's explanations and denials, he concluded, "It's a cop-out."
"Just because you're not a scientist does not mean you can't know what to do," Liu said. "It's kind of like saying, 'Well, I see somebody about to burn down your house, but since I'm not a firefighter, I don't know whether I should stop them or not.'"
At issue are the game balls the Patriots provided for last Sunday's AFC Championship Game; 11 of the 12 balls, which by rule are inspected and verified by the referee before kickoff, were later mysteriously underinflated by about 2 pounds per square inch, according to an ESPN report on the NFL's investigation.
Belichick explained that "atmospheric conditions" might have caused the change.
But Liu said, "Barring any very unusual natural situations, you just can't get the ball down 2 psi, from 12.5, by natural causes."
"You could have inflated the ball in a sauna and then brought it out and it was cold and rainy, and then yes, you could drop 2 psis that way," he added. "Or if a ball was leaking, that it wasn't quite full."
For a quarterback at Tom Brady's level -- for any NFL quarterback, for that matter -- the loss of 2 psi would be significant.
An NFL ball inflated as specified should come in at 12.5 psi.
"If you let out 2 psi from the ball, it is as if you removed 400 pounds of force pushing outward from the football," Liu said. "If you let out 1.5 psi from the ball, it's as if you removed 300 pounds of force pushing outward from the football."
Liu mentioned Muhammad Wilkerson, a 6-foot-4-inch, 315-pound defensive lineman for the New York Jets, to illustrate the point. If Wilkerson were to stand on a ball, the leather would bulge out on the ball's sides, growing taut, and would be much harder to grip. Take Wilkerson off the ball, and it would become easier to grip.
"That is what letting 1.5 or 2 psi out of the ball means," Liu said.
(I tried the experiment in the office with a basketball, with an editor gripping the sides of the ball. He agreed that it was easier to hold on to once my 220 pounds had hopped off.)
The point is that a significantly underinflated ball, especially one used in a crucial game played in driving rain and cold weather, would not be inconsequential.
"They're are all playing at such a high level that even that small edge can really matter," Liu said.
In that news conference Saturday, aside from stating the obvious -- that he was no scientist -- Belichick told reporters, "At no time was there any intent whatsoever to try to compromise the integrity of the game or to gain an advantage." He also threw down the gauntlet, saying that he was finished talking about deflated footballs.
We'll see about that. But what will be more intriguing to see is how Belichick manages to turn the controversy into an advantage for his team.
It's already happening.
The Patriots, with the full backing of their fans, are once again an underdog of sorts, setting up an us-against-the-world theme for the week leading to the Super Bowl. This was the same battle cry the Seattle Seahawks used so effectively last season during its run to the championship.
The Patriots clearly could have done without the negative attention, but for better or for worse, they control the narrative: They stand persecuted, misunderstood, wrongly accused.
The way many Patriots fans are reacting to the public criticism of Belichick and Brady reminds me of the way Boston baseball fans used to react in the years before the Red Sox finally broke their World Series jinx. They were on edge, hypersensitive to the wide perception that their team would implode.
Deflategate has brought out a similar strain of parochialism surrounding the Patriots: The world has it in for Belichick, and the criticism is driven by jealousy, not by anything the Patriots may have done.
The organization has been successful, but it has not won a championship since 2004. You sense an urgency -- almost a desperation -- for the team not to simply get to the Super Bowl but to win a title. Depending on the outcome of the NFL's investigation, what would be a seemingly small and trivial slip-up might be remembered as reflecting that zeal to grab one more brass ring in the Brady-Belichick era.
We probably won't know until after the Super Bowl, if at all, what really happened and who was responsible for the 11 deflated footballs.
The NFL insists on and off the record that it is not at fault. Belichick claims -- scout's honor -- that New England is innocent. Patriots nation is circling the wagons as the rest of the world closes in.
For most franchises, the last week of scandal would be debilitating. But if we've learned anything about the Patriots, it's that they can turn anything into an advantage. By hook or by crook.
Sports on 01/27/2015