Hayes: The Patriots might be great but they'll never be likable

Bill Belichick guided the greatest comeback in sports history and, it seemed, his heart grew three sizes that day. He gave retiring ESPN icon Chris Berman an utterly genuine interview on the field, along with a personal, heartwarming sendoff. Then, Monday, he appeared on "The Tonight Show." He even smiled.

Tom Brady sculpted a masterpiece on the field and then, with dust still on his hands, he shed the shell of an entitled, chronic cheater and became a man of the masses. His alien-beautiful wife wore clothes of the proletariat and, appropriately, behaved like a lunatic fan. Brady let us see his family in its joy and in its suffering.

They were almost ... likable.

They are the second-oldest coach and second-oldest quarterback to win the Super Bowl, and they are the favorites to do it again next year, so their record five Super Bowl wins for coach and quarterback could fall sooner than later. We love spunky old people, don't we?

It is a singular paradox that Belichick and Brady spent the last 16 years orchestrating beautiful football while constructing hateful personas. Ever aloof and dismissive, they were twice caught cheating their peers in the most disrespectful manners. When caught, they dismissed their actions with arrogance, obstructed investigations and, when their guilt was clearly established, they cast themselves as victims.

Belichick and Brady began as something America needed to love: impossible underdogs who'd never won anything, but prevailed in the first Super Bowl after 9/11; called, of all things, Patriots. They left New Orleans as national darlings and, as Red Sox Nation endured its personal hell, as regional heroes.

Then, bewilderingly, at every step, they made themselves more and more unlikable. The rest of the country marveled at their brilliance but cringed at their belligerence. More and more, New England became an enclave of zealots, red-white-and-blue cultists who refused to acknowledge the obvious, odious shortcomings of their football elites.

First, the gutsy comeback and the overtime win — the perfect launching pad for image reclamation.

Then, Belichick, the worst interview on Earth, agreeing to a 7 minute, 30 second, impromptu interview with Berman, Hall of Fame quarterback Steve Young, and Randy Moss, a former Patriot who encouraged Belichick to join them. Belichick clambered his 64-year-old bulk onto the riser and essentially interviewed himself. He was entirely genuine, completely deferential and alarmingly forthcoming.

Then, Brady, who embraced his bandana-ed mother, and said anonymous running back James White deserved the MVP award, and gave him the truck that comes with it. If empathy still eludes you, well, consider that somebody stole Brady's jersey Sunday night, and nobody deserves that.

This changes everything, right? It humanizes the Darth lords. It forgives them their sins and offers absolution.

It makes you actually kind of like them; at least, a little bit.

Right?

Nah.