Don’t cheat yourself out of watching history

FOXBOROUGH, Mass. -- I hate them. But I can’t stop watching them.

It’s a chilly New England night with musket smoke in the air and exhausted Floridians on the ground and maybe the best team in NFL history stalking away with a smirk and, yeah, I’m confused.

I hate the New England Patriots because they are convicted cheaters.

But I can’t stop watching them because, in a brilliant 31-20 divisional playoff victory over Jacksonville on Saturday night, they never cheated themselves or their fans or the game.

I hate the Patriots because they tauntingly run up the score on weaker teams like a bully.

But I can’t stop watching them because their quarterback taunts history, Tom Brady missing only two of 28 passes Saturday night even with only one ball thrown to Randy Moss.

I hate the Patriots because their coach dresses like a street punk and talks a condescending bureaucrat.

But I can’t stop watching them because Bill Belichick approves plays like a fake Statue of Liberty on Saturday that turned into a six-yard touchdown pass to Wes Welker that gave them the lead for good.

“Sometimes they’re like a college team,” Jaguars receiver Matt Jones said with an admiring smile.

And other times . . .

“They are just really good,” said Jaguars defensive end Paul Spicer with a frustrated chuckle.

And still other times . . .

“I don’t know, man,” Jaguars cornerback Brian Williams said, shaking his head. “I just don’t know.”

On a night when the Patriots matched the 1972 Dolphins by improving their record to 17-0 -- only two more wins standing between them and legend -- there was sighing and gulping everywhere.

How can you like a team that plays with so little emotion that it was refreshing to see Stephen Gostkowski miss a 35-yard field-goal attempt at the end of the first half, because we actually saw Brady shout in anger?

But how can you hate them when this robot mentality leads to three consecutive scoring drives in the second half, hooks and jabs from all angles, an offense featuring eight guys catching passes and four guys gaining rushing yards?

And not one mistake. No fumbles, no interceptions, one-for-one on fourth down, only four failed third downs.

“That’s one of the things that makes them so great,” said the Jaguars’ Maurice Jones-Drew. “You cannot make a mistake against them. Not one mistake.”

Jacksonville made only two while the game was still in doubt.

Two mistakes in a game featuring Jaguars drives of 95, 86 and 80 yards.

Two mistakes in a game in which the Jaguars punted just once and passed for more yards than the best passing team in NFL history.

Two mistakes, and game over.

“They are what you think they are,” Williams said. “They are undefeated.”

The first mistake occurred when the football was jarred loose from quarterback David Garrard late in the first quarter.

In seven plays, with the ball going strictly to running backs Laurence Maroney and Kevin Faulk, the Patriots drove 29 yards and scored.

“That’s what you expect from a running back in general,” Faulk said in trademark Patriots deadpan. “Him doing his job.”

The second mistake occurred in the middle of the third quarter with the Jaguars driving for a possible tying touchdown.

Dennis Northcutt dropped a Garrard pass at the goal line, the Jaguars had to settle for a field goal, and about three clock minutes later, the Patriots scored again to clinch it.

“No one cares how it happens,” Patriots defensive end Richard Seymour said. “The main thing is we’re moving on.”

Part of you wishes they were moving out. Shouldn’t history be made by someone with an obvious appreciation of it? Don’t we want history to be made by someone who will share it with us?

Belichick wears an oversized gray hoodie on the sideline, a sour gray frown on his face, and after games, if he acts like the opposing coach’s extended hand is carrying a deadly virus, you think he’s going to embrace the rest of us?

His team did not punt while the game was still in doubt, his team was essentially unstoppable, and what did Belichick think of all this?

“Offensively, we had a pretty decent night,” he said.

Part of you wishes they were moving out because the team imitates the coach, from Brady uncharacteristically taunting an opposing defensive back earlier this season to linemen who answer every question with a grunt.

So, tackle Matt Light, what did you think of Brady’s NFL-record 92.9% completion rate?

“He’s pretty good,” Light said.

Part of you wonders if they are still stealing signals -- they were fined a total of $750,000 and docked a first-round draft pick for doing it against the New York Jets in the season opener.

Part of you wonders if they are having any fun -- even when Brady pumps his fist on a touchdown throw, it seems as if he’s doing it in anger.

But, then, part of you wants to shake yourself and realize, isn’t this what professional sports should be about?

Faceless players using a diverse game plan for dominating victories? Everybody smaller than the logo? Nobody bigger than the team?

Late Saturday, Moss showed up in the press room wearing a colorful winter outfit that made him look like a member of the Abominable Village People.

In every other stop in his checkered career, Moss would not have spoken to anyone after a game that included him for only one play.

Now, he couldn’t shut up.

“I say, man, we win as a team,” he said, adding, “Hats off, 17-0, what else can you ask for?”

Maybe everything. Maybe nothing. Two more games to hate. Two more games to love.

Bill Plaschke can be reached at bill.plaschke@latimes.com. To read previous columns by Plaschke, go to latimes.com/plaschke.