Belichick Snubbed: Trump, Legends Blast ‘Rigged’ Hall of Fame Process

Paul Riverbank, 2/9/2026Belichick’s Hall of Fame snub sparks outrage, debate, and questions about legacy versus controversy.

Sunday night’s broadcast on NBC gave Rodney Harrison a national stage, and he took full advantage. He didn’t mince words. “Any list that doesn’t include Bill Belichick at the top is absolutely wrong,” he said, not with anger but with the sort of calm conviction that makes you stop and listen. Harrison knows Belichick better than most. He’s watched him whip up defensive schemes that seem to bend the laws of physics—plans designed not just for wins, but for dominance. “I’ve seen him design defenses to stop your offense,” Harrison reminded Tony Dungy, who sat just a few feet away. Harrison mentioned his own résumé—he played with Drew Brees and Adam Vinatieri—and then closed the circle: “But there’s nobody more deserving than coach Belichick.”

He wasn’t just defending his old coach out of loyalty, either. Harrison put his finger on the bigger storyline: impact. “Tom Brady wouldn’t be Tom Brady without Bill Belichick,” he said, offering a perspective that tends to get lost in the stats and highlights. You could almost see the gears turning on the set.

Dungy, who’s worn both the player’s and the coach’s shoes—and is himself a Hall of Famer and member of the committee—handled the heat with poise. He didn’t spill any secrets about the vote, citing the committee’s code of silence: “When you come on the committee, you take an oath that you’re not going to discuss the debates—anything that happened there.” Tough spot, but Dungy eventually shed some light on what changed. In years past, the voters could bring two names through the gates with each cycle. This time, only one could make the cut from a particularly congested group: Belichick, Patriots owner Robert Kraft, running back Roger Craig, quarterback Ken Anderson, and defensive end L.C. Greenwood.

Craig got the nod. Belichick didn’t.

“If the same vote had taken place two years ago, Bill Belichick would have been in—and so would another deserving Hall of Famer,” Dungy explained, his frustration showing through for just a moment. The rules, not the person, were the culprit this time—or so Dungy argued.

Inside and outside the committee, opinions flew at warp speed. The secrecy in the process only poured fuel on the fire, leaving fans and pundits stuck speculating about motives and villains. One thing everyone could agree on: Belichick’s omission shifted attention away from the group of newly minted legends (names like Drew Brees, Larry Fitzgerald, Luke Kuechly, Adam Vinatieri, and Roger Craig) and put it squarely on what “first-ballot” is supposed to mean.

As if all that wasn’t enough, former President Donald Trump entered the fray, dismissing recent headline-grabbing stories about Belichick’s personal life—or the much-discussed controversies from his Patriots years, like Spygate and Deflategate—as irrelevant. “He’s had a little bit of a controversial year-and-a-half, two years, maybe, but what difference does that make? He should be in there right at the top,” Trump told NBC News. For Trump, the issue was simple: Belichick’s record stands alone.

The cynics, of course, wonder whether those scandals or the icy final chapter of Belichick’s New England tenure might have tilted a few ballots. But the numbers won’t budge: 302-165 as a head coach, plus stints on the sideline for two Giants Super Bowl wins under Bill Parcells. His place in the game’s tactical evolution is undeniable; love him or not, Belichick changed how football was played and coached.

You only needed to check your feed Sunday night to see the furor. Social media was awash in disbelief, disappointment, and questions without answers. Who, exactly, made the call? Would things look different if the rules hadn’t shifted? No committee member is likely to say. Dungy, for all his candor, left the specifics between the lines.

So, here we are: another Hall of Fame class, more legends enshrined, but the lasting conversation is about the one towering figure who’s still waiting for his bronze bust. Some see an insult, others see a quirk of timing and bureaucracy. History writes itself in strange ways, especially in sports, where the lines between legacy and controversy often blur.

As the debate rolls on, Harrison’s words have taken on a life of their own—repeated in podcasts, columns, and comment threads: “Any list that doesn’t include Bill Belichick at the top is absolutely wrong.” In a game shaped by legacies, it’s an argument that probably won’t end anytime soon.

The Hall of Fame vote is usually a formality for legends, but this year’s result caught a lot of people off guard. Bill Belichick—the mastermind with six Super Bowl rings, the stoic face of two decades’ worth of New England dominance—didn’t make it into Canton on his first try. In the week leading up to the Super Bowl, the air was already thick with speculation, but no one quite expected the name “Belichick” to be left off the list. And once the decision went public, the football world wasted no time in reacting.Sunday night’s broadcast on NBC gave Rodney Harrison a national stage, and he took full advantage. He didn’t mince words. “Any list that doesn’t include Bill Belichick at the top is absolutely wrong,” he said, not with anger but with the sort of calm conviction that makes you stop and listen. Harrison knows Belichick better than most. He’s watched him whip up defensive schemes that seem to bend the laws of physics—plans designed not just for wins, but for dominance. “I’ve seen him design defenses to stop your offense,” Harrison reminded Tony Dungy, who sat just a few feet away. Harrison mentioned his own résumé—he played with Drew Brees and Adam Vinatieri—and then closed the circle: “But there’s nobody more deserving than coach Belichick.”He wasn’t just defending his old coach out of loyalty, either. Harrison put his finger on the bigger storyline: impact. “Tom Brady wouldn’t be Tom Brady without Bill Belichick,” he said, offering a perspective that tends to get lost in the stats and highlights. You could almost see the gears turning on the set.Dungy, who’s worn both the player’s and the coach’s shoes—and is himself a Hall of Famer and member of the committee—handled the heat with poise. He didn’t spill any secrets about the vote, citing the committee’s code of silence: “When you come on the committee, you take an oath that you’re not going to discuss the debates—anything that happened there.” Tough spot, but Dungy eventually shed some light on what changed. In years past, the voters could bring two names through the gates with each cycle. This time, only one could make the cut from a particularly congested group: Belichick, Patriots owner Robert Kraft, running back Roger Craig, quarterback Ken Anderson, and defensive end L.C. Greenwood.Craig got the nod. Belichick didn’t.“If the same vote had taken place two years ago, Bill Belichick would have been in—and so would another deserving Hall of Famer,” Dungy explained, his frustration showing through for just a moment. The rules, not the person, were the culprit this time—or so Dungy argued.Inside and outside the committee, opinions flew at warp speed. The secrecy in the process only poured fuel on the fire, leaving fans and pundits stuck speculating about motives and villains. One thing everyone could agree on: Belichick’s omission shifted attention away from the group of newly minted legends (names like Drew Brees, Larry Fitzgerald, Luke Kuechly, Adam Vinatieri, and Roger Craig) and put it squarely on what “first-ballot” is supposed to mean.As if all that wasn’t enough, former President Donald Trump entered the fray, dismissing recent headline-grabbing stories about Belichick’s personal life—or the much-discussed controversies from his Patriots years, like Spygate and Deflategate—as irrelevant. “He’s had a little bit of a controversial year-and-a-half, two years, maybe, but what difference does that make? He should be in there right at the top,” Trump told NBC News. For Trump, the issue was simple: Belichick’s record stands alone.The cynics, of course, wonder whether those scandals or the icy final chapter of Belichick’s New England tenure might have tilted a few ballots. But the numbers won’t budge: 302-165 as a head coach, plus stints on the sideline for two Giants Super Bowl wins under Bill Parcells. His place in the game’s tactical evolution is undeniable; love him or not, Belichick changed how football was played and coached.You only needed to check your feed Sunday night to see the furor. Social media was awash in disbelief, disappointment, and questions without answers. Who, exactly, made the call? Would things look different if the rules hadn’t shifted? No committee member is likely to say. Dungy, for all his candor, left the specifics between the lines.So, here we are: another Hall of Fame class, more legends enshrined, but the lasting conversation is about the one towering figure who’s still waiting for his bronze bust. Some see an insult, others see a quirk of timing and bureaucracy. History writes itself in strange ways, especially in sports, where the lines between legacy and controversy often blur.As the debate rolls on, Harrison’s words have taken on a life of their own—repeated in podcasts, columns, and comment threads: “Any list that doesn’t include Bill Belichick at the top is absolutely wrong.” In a game shaped by legacies, it’s an argument that probably won’t end anytime soon.