Patriots Coach Jerod Mayo has proven his defensive chops as the de facto defensive coordinator but has yet to prove himself as a head coach. George Walker IV/Associated Press

FOXBOROUGH, Mass. – Even at the end, the bitter, cold, snowy end of the Patriots’ most miserable season in decades, a failure brought on by bad coaching and roster-building malpractice, Bill Belichick had his loyalists.

They were select fans and media, even members of the organization who believed he could still pull the franchise out of a tailspin he piloted. The Patriots had gone 29-39 the past four years, a fireable offense for any coach. But it didn’t matter to them. They believed.

Whether or not you agreed – I didn’t – Belichick had earned such faith.

Twenty-four years, six Super Bowls, you know the resume. That belief was captured by a phrase coined early in the dynasty: In Bill We Trust.

From sticking with Tom Brady to cutting Lawyer Milloy, trading Drew Bledsoe, Richard Seymour, Randy Moss, Logan Mankins and Jamie Collins, plus countless atypical in-game decisions, Belichick lived with the benefit of the doubt. He walked with it. Such trust – from ownership on down to the ticket-paying faithful – was earned.

But hope? That’s a choice.

Fans across New England are now choosing to believe in Jerod Mayo, who will lead one of the least talented and threatening rosters into 17 games that will either begin to provide proof of concept or potential collapse. He will enjoy no such public safety net, particularly if/when his in-game decisions cost the Patriots a win. And Mayo will screw up.

That’s what rookie head coaches do. He knows it.

“There are people in my circle – I have, like, a personal board – I lean on those people for guidance. Look, I am going to make mistakes,” Mayo said on July 23, the eve of training camp. “I’m not going to sit here and act like I’m just the most perfect guy. I will make mistakes, and I will learn from those mistakes because I am not a repeat-offender type of person.”

Error-repeating is considered a cardinal sin for members of the Belichick coaching tree, who have often failed outside of his shadow. Mayo intends to be different.

So far, different has been marked by a new players lounge inside the facility. Breaks between players meetings. New phrases and photos plastered on the walls, even some carrying an asterisk or star for reasons that, let’s say … are a bit unclear.

Mayo has stated multiple times he wants to be transparent and develop a positive relationship with reporters. To be clear: We should all, fans and media, be rooting for transparency from the team we follow. But for football coaches who hold regular press conferences and represent entire organizations, there is a line where the benefits of being honest with the public stop – and maintaining privacy for the best interest of the team begins.

Mayo has stepped over that line with a few unforced errors this year. He walked back comments about cash spending and the draft, and contradicted himself when discussing the criteria for his quarterback competition. Even Mayo admitted one comment, a half-serious, walk-off remark on the radio about burning cash, was a “rookie mistake.”

Frankly, none of these matter in the grand scheme of his tenure. They are minor PR missteps, which should be the least concerning of Mayo’s growing pains to come. But until the Patriots kick off at Cincinnati in their season opener, this is all we have.

What Mayo says, how he says it and whether he backs it up.

For an NFL head coach, consistent messaging, and backing those messages up, is the key to building trust with his players. Trust and belief are what sustains culture; what allows bad teams to grow into good ones; what keeps rebuilding franchises fighting to the brutal end of a losing season.

Belichick achieved this, internally and externally. And if that feels like one too many Belichick mentions in a column about Mayo, maybe that’s true. It might even be unfair.

But this is the situation Mayo has stepped into: following the greatest coach of all time who provided meaningful edges to his team for two decades with his weekly preparation and in-game management. He organized, motivated and developed; the essence of what it means to coach.

Belichick set the highest standard in football. That is the bar now, a bar the Patriots are stepping back from so they can run up and reach for it again in 2025 and beyond. What comes next, however, will be pain.

Rebuilding pain. Growing pains, for all involved.

Back in January, I called Mayo’s hiring a worthy gamble. I wrote he was someone who “fit the profile of a coach fit to modernize the organization: a man who connects with today’s generation of players, injects life into a room and commands it, is well-regarded for his Xs and Os and known as a sharp, independent thinker.”

At that point I knew I could trust his defensive chops. He was a de facto co-coordinator, a leader of men.

The rest, I couldn’t see yet. Couldn’t trust yet.

Because the Krafts never opened a coaching search. They never interviewed anyone else. They could never, ever claim Mayo was the best candidate available because they never bothered to stack his resume against any other coach who might have applied.

They simply believed. Hoped.

That’s why Mayo is here for the foreseeable future.

The rest, he has to earn.