In ancient times you showed an open palm to prove you were not carrying a weapon. With that assurance, you could greet anyone you met as a friend. For a few thousand years it's been a workable system.
Until now.
Nobody spends any time thinking about how the Jets-Patriots game will turn out tomorrow in frozen Foxboro. Everyone knows the Jets are going to lose by at least three touchdowns. The big story, the one that will keep viewers glued to their sets, is what happens after the game mercifully ends.
Will they or won't they?
The last interaction between two humans watched this closely was when Michael Jackson and Lisa Marie Presley appeared for the first time together as husband and wife. Nobody expects to see full body contact, unless there are punches thrown.
Which would be great. Admit it. This is what we want to see. We've spent most of our adult lives watching two men cross a crowded field with a state trooper or two in tow, just to exchange a one sentence greeting and a handshake.
We want blood.
Belichick has had a great career. He's won Super Bowls, set records, reached the top of his profession. What more, beyond pulling a knife on Mangini, is there to do? If his career is a great big chocolate sundae, then going all Brutus on his former associate would be the cherry on top. What's a few years in prison balanced against one glorious moment of revenge.
"Accuse me of cheating you ungrateful wretch!", Belichick screams as he closes in. The next day the photo would be on the front page of every paper, a Ruby-Oswald shot for the new millenium. Frozen in time we see Belichick lunging forward, the Massachusetts state trooper's eyes as big as saucers.
Too violent?
OK, how about a hockey fight? Mangini pulls that stupid hoodie thing over Belichick's head in the first minute and pummels him with a series of haymaker rights as the local constabulary holds back onlookers. Patriot and Jet players stand by shouting encouragement. Belichick staggers back, regains his footing and nails Mangini with a short jab that staggers the youngster. The crowd goes wild.
Maybe a full out rumble. Sharks (or Patriots) and Jets. Choreographed properly it could be a thing of beauty, a ballet of 300 pound linemen and darting defensive backs. Referee Krupke stands watching to one side, as Giesele Blundchin in the role of Maria, watches the Jets try vainly to take out Tom "Bernardo" Brady.
Being a Southerner, though, I have an abiding fondness for the Code Duelo. I think Mangini should send a formal challenge to Belichick and they can meet with their seconds at the end of regulation time to settle things properly, like gentlemen. Think of it like sudden death overtime. The captains meet, the referees explain the rules, and then the violence commences.
Finally, there is the "Dirty Little Coward Who Shot Mr. Howard" scenario. The demise of Jesse James plays out after Belichick begrudgingly shakes Mangini's hand. As he heads back to the Patriots dresssing room, Mangini cries out "Forgive Me!" and shoots Belichick in the back. Although no formal charges would be filed, Mangini would move from team to team afterwards, shunned even by the most ardent Patriot haters.
Will any of this happen? Probably not.
Will they shake hands? Who cares? It's a tradition, nothing more. If one of the two coaches declines a handshake it just reveals a small, petty side of their personalities.
