Bill Belichick and the Art of Speed Reading

“In a dark time, the eye begins to see.” –Theodore Roethke

Bill Belichick on his iPad on a treadmill. Even if you didn’t see the NFL Network’s A Football Life where that image was shown, I imagine the awkwardly worded syntax of the previous sentence not only didn’t cause any problems but also helped you conjure the picture of him in his blue hoodie, staring at game film, each step on the treadmill wheel moving in sync with the wheels turning in his head, noticing whatever Bill Belichick notices when watching film.

But plenty of coaches do something similar to or the equivalent of that. It’s not like he’s the only coach who works hard, nor is he the only coach who knew at a young age that he wanted to be a coach. There’s never just one reason for someone’s success, but I have a theory for one of his reasons: he’s simply watched more film than anyone else. I’m not saying he’s spent more time watching film than anyone else (although I’m sure he’s in the top 5). I’m saying he’s seen more plays, schemes, and formations than anyone else.

I’ve recently read several books on speed reading, and it has three Do Not’s: do not regress, do not transfix, and do not subvocalize. Now, the third one is impossible to completely avoid. There may be some outliers who can read completely with their eyes, but they are a miniscule minority. Even those who are up to 1,000 words a minute, say some of the words to themselves. That said, the other two are easy habits to break. To stop transfixing, simply run your finger or a pen under each line, using it as a motor to keep your eyes and mind moving forward. And regressing is simply about having the discipline to not go back, even after saying to yourself, “wait, what did I just read?”

Therefore, you can solve two of the Do Not’s can be solved by constantly moving forward. Always keep going. If you’re trying to just get through a book because you want to find out what happens, keep going. If you’re trying to study for a test, keep going. If you have no idea what you’re reading, keep going. Don’t stop, even if you don’t feel like you’re getting anything out of it.

Here’s the reason why: you can always go back. This next sentence will sound untrue, but it absolutely is. Thrice reading a text at three times your normal rate is better than reading it at your regular comprehension rate once. The only way to increase your speed is to go faster than your normal reading rate. Here’s the thing: your brain will catch up.

I’m aware that there’s an obvious difference between words on a screen and players on a field, and I don’t want to minimalize that. But what I’m discussing focuses less on what happens on the field than what happens in the film room. And I don’t want to sound as if reading books is too similar to watching film. If that were true, Ryan Fitzpatrick would still be a Titan, in fact, he’d still be a Bill. But when you draw parallels from disparate elements, you’re talking more about general principles than you are about specific parts.

Keeping this in mind, I’m moving to a much safer generalization: everyone in the NFL watches film. Most players can draw up plays on the board and discuss football concepts as they relate to their position, and if they can’t, they’re not in the league for long.

So not being able to read a defense is a misnomer; I’m willing to bet that the best football minds have study habits similar to the most efficient readers. Let me draw a parallel: I graduated from college with an English degree, so I can intelligently discuss Shakespeare, Mark Twain and most other major author. All of us English majors read. But some have read more widely and more deeply than others. There’s always some that have read much less but are able to get by. Regardless, all of us have read, read poems, read plays, read novels, read short stories, and read essays about all of those genres. But some, despite the pulls on his and energy that we all have, find a way to read, not just the Sherman Alexie short story that was due for class but a few other Sherman Alexie short stories and an essay or two of literary criticism about Sherman Alexie.[1]

So, to continue this book as game tape metaphor, every coach is well read. But some coaches read and study better than others. They have a more effective method of preparing for games. I think what Belichick does is not just watch film, but watch film and then trace the genesis of a particular defensive (or offensive) scheme. He does the equivalent of speed reading through a text, which gives him more time to not just re-read but to fit in extra reading. He puts in the same amount of work that his colleagues do, but he gets more out of that time because he’s not wasting time regressing but pushing forward and allowing his mind to catch up.

The idea is that even if he missed something, he’s going to go back and review. So get through that initial reading without worrying about ideas you’ve missed here and there (because you still miss ideas with your bad habits). Believe it or not, you can read faster if you preview quickly, read at a more normal rate (but at a rate slightly faster than what you’re comfortable with), and then review quickly. Every version of speed reading, whether it’s the Evelyn Woods Method used by John F. Kennedy or the Photoreading technique used by Jimmie Carter incorporates previewing, “reading,” and reviewing.

These are the principles. And like Emerson said, “learn the principles and you may choose your method.” But most of us don’t. We labor slowly, trudging through a text with inefficient yet determined labor. We tend to think of speed as either a mark of genius or a mark of carelessness. But what if it’s neither? What if it’s just a better way of doing something we thought we were doing right?

[1] I taught a Sports & Lit Honors course and taught Alexie’s The Absolutely True Diary of a Part-Time Indian. It’s a great read. And if you don’t have time for that, read his short story “Do Not Go Gentle”