FOXBOROUGH, MA — A person with direct knowledge of Pat Patriot’s phone contacts confirmed Tuesday that the New England Patriots mascot has not updated his contacts list since January 12, 2024, the date Bill Belichick’s departure from the franchise was officially announced.

Bill Belichick is still listed as “Coach 💔.”

Not “Bill.” Not “Belichick.” Not “Former Coach.” Not even the slightly passive-aggressive “Bill B. (ex-coach)” that a healthier person might choose. Just “Coach 💔.” With a broken heart emoji that Pat himself describes as “accurate.”

“I know I should change it,” Pat Patriot told reporters, who had gathered at a Foxborough Panera Bread where he has been spending most of his mornings since the 2025 season ended with a 6-11 record. “But then what? It becomes ‘Bill.’ And then he’s just some guy. And he wasn’t just some guy.”

He stared at his Fuji Apple Chicken Salad for a long moment.

“He was my guy.”

An Era Ends, A Mascot Processes

The Belichick era in New England produced six Super Bowl championships, earned the Patriots a level of national hatred that many other fan bases would describe as “aspirational,” and instilled in Pat Patriot a deep, foundational belief that winning was not just possible but expected. Required. A baseline condition of existence.

That era ended. Pat Patriot did not.

“It’s like someone told you gravity works differently now,” said Dr. Linda Frasier, a sports psychologist who has not treated Pat Patriot but agreed to speculate freely about his mental state when this reporter called and described the situation. “You spent decades operating under one set of rules. Now they’re different. And no one fully prepared you for that.”

She paused.

“Also the phone contacts thing is a little concerning.”

The Drake Maye Situation

The Patriots, to their credit, have invested meaningfully in the future. First overall pick Drake Maye, selected in the 2024 NFL Draft, has shown genuine flashes of potential through his first two NFL seasons. He has also shown genuine flashes of being a 22-year-old learning on the job in real time, with all the chaos that implies.

Pat Patriot is rooting for Drake Maye. He wants to be clear about that.

“I love Drake,” Pat Patriot said, unprompted. “Drake is a great kid. Very talented. I think he’s going to be really good.”

He nodded firmly.

“I think he’s going to be really good.”

Another pause.

“Bill would have had him ready by now.”

Sources close to Pat Patriot have asked us not to include that last quote. We are including it anyway because it is very true to who he is right now.

The Text That Wasn’t Delivered

During the Patriots’ Week 11 loss to the Indianapolis Colts this past November — a game in which the offense converted two of fourteen third downs and committed four false starts in the second half alone — Pat Patriot opened his phone and drafted a text to “Coach 💔.”

The text read: “hey r u watching the game.”

He stared at it for approximately forty-five seconds.

Then he hit send.

The message shows a single gray checkmark. Not two. Not the two blue checkmarks of a read receipt. One gray checkmark, which in the iMessage cosmology means the message was sent but not yet delivered, which in real life means Belichick’s phone probably doesn’t have Pat’s number saved anymore, or possibly that Belichick has a new phone and this number goes nowhere, or possibly that Belichick was in fact watching the game and simply preferred not to respond, all of which are plausible and all of which are, in their own way, devastating.

Pat Patriot has not deleted the message.

He checks it occasionally.

The checkmark has not changed.

Looking Ahead

When asked what he was most looking forward to this coming season, Pat Patriot brightened visibly.

“We have eight picks in the top four rounds of the draft,” he said. “The salary cap situation is actually really healthy. And I think with another year of development for Drake, and a real offensive line, and maybe one more weapon at receiver—”

He stopped. Looked down.

“I just miss winning,” he said quietly. “I miss it so much.”

He picked up his phone. Opened his contacts. Scrolled to “Coach 💔.”

Put the phone away.

“Next year,” he said, to no one in particular.

“He wasn’t perfect. Nobody’s perfect. But when he was here, I never once thought about what would happen if he wasn’t. I just assumed he always would be. You know? I just assumed.”

— Pat Patriot, while eating a Cinnamon Crunch Bagel at 8:47 a.m. on a Tuesday