There is no truth to the rumor that the revised plans for the "Patriot Place" development at Gillette Stadium now include watchtowers and gun emplacements.

It just seems that they would make sense.

With the Patriots having traded for one of the NFL's most notorious bad boys in Randy Moss and drafting a gun-toting safety out of the college ranks, it appears that the concept of "character" has been redefined by those who once touted it with such zeal.

Moss, the talented wide receiver with an admitted taste for marijuana and a disdain for authority, became a Patriot almost exactly nine years after former team vice president Bobby Grier refused to put him on his draft board because of indiscretions committed while in high school and college.

Moss joins Brandon Meriweather, a former University of Miami player who shooed away an armed intruder near his college housing back in July by firing three shots from a handgun at him at 6:30 in the morning. Add to that an increasing number of players acquired by Bill Belichick over the past few seasons who've also had smudges on their records, and the end result is an increased tolerance for anti-social behavior from the same franchise that once threw a draft pick off the team the day after he was selected because the owner's wife objected to his rap sheet.

One wonders if Myra Kraft is even paying attention any more.

In 1996, Bill Parcells' last season as coach of the Patriots, Mrs. Kraft was informed by a reporter of draftee Christian Peter's record of sexual assaults upon Nebraska co-eds. She promptly brought the news to her husband, team owner Robert Kraft, who ordered Peter's prompt dismissal.

That was widely seen as the first blow struck for decency and accountability among newcomers to the Patriot organization. It was also one of the contributing factors to the erosion of Parcells' relationship with the Krafts because it was seen as interference from above in the team-building process.

For years, old-school coaches tended to look the other way at off-field indiscretions as long as they didn't have an immediate impact upon what was going on on the field. In those cases, what they didn't know didn't hurt anyone.

But as the level of indiscretion increased to include gunplay, domestic violence and varying levels of drug abuse, each successive incident attacked the NFL's perception of itself as the professional sports league that should be the model for others to follow.

The Patriots under Belichick have been at the forefront of the clean-up-your-act movement for some time now, purging themselves of players of questionable character or taking them off the draft board before they were picked, long before new Commissioner Roger Goodell was moved to institute a get-tough policy with future offenders.

But Belichick has taken a few chances, too. The most notable one was running back Corey Dillon, who came to Foxboro from Cincinnati with the reputation of being a bad boy and a locker-room cancer.

Given a chance to compete for a championship, and with Belichick's ability to add a layer of built-in insulation between players and the media because of his well-known anti-media attitude, Dillon prospered in New England.

In his first season with the Patriots, Dillon gained more than 1,600 yards and led his team to a Super Bowl championship. Even though his production slipped mightily over the next two seasons before he was released, Dillon never repeated his Cincinnati tirades or got himself in trouble because he was so well insulated from the rest of the real world. Belichick's success with Dillon has fostered the belief that any number of little wanderers can be shown the path to redemption in Foxboro. And if they don't follow it, they're gone. An example of that is safety Dexter Reid, who came to the Patriots from North Carolina with a chip on his shoulder and never lost it. Even though he landed on his feet with the Indianapolis Colts after his release here, he couldn't keep himself out of trouble and the Colts sent him packing after Super Bowl XLI.

Moss isn't a serial killer, of course. He's had some trouble with the law during his pro career and has admitted to marijuana use, but his worst transgressions of late have been on the field. He has given less than 100 percent on several occasions, running routes half-heartedly or running off the field before the play is complete, and has openly pouted about his teams' lack of success - the sort of behavior that can erode a team from within if left unchecked.

Belichick is betting upon the cache his team has earned from its three Super Bowl championships to tame Moss, as well he should. Players now clamor to be a part of the Patriots instead of apart from them, which was the norm for most of the first 40 years of their existence.

But one wonders how long it will take, as more and more of the cornerstone players from those three championship teams depart, before the players of lesser character start to overwhelm those who would otherwise keep them in check within the cocoon of the Patriots' locker room. At that point, the police reports may become more interesting reading than the box scores, as is the case in Cincinnati, Atlanta, Oakland and a few other towns where souls have already been sold in the pursuit of victory.

Randy Moss could produce a high reward for very little risk if Belichick holds true to one tenet of Patriot Law. If Moss stumbles and reverts to his petulant past, he should be gone. Instantly.

As a reminder, Belichick needs only to look to the circumstance that drove Parcells, his former mentor, out of football. Terrell Owens destroyed the Dallas Cowboys because Parcells was restrained from dropping the hammer on him by team owner Jerry Jones.

Kraft won't meddle as Jones did, that much is clear. But these days, the owner is buying just about anything his successful head coach tells him. That trust has been earned by, as Parcells used to call it, "demonstrated ability."

This, however, will be the most demanding test yet of Belichick's new calling as a faith healer. It probably won't take long to see if he's up to the task, or if this "laying of the hands" has laid an egg.

MARK FARINELLA may be reached at 508-236-0315 or via e-mail at mfarinel@thesunchronicle.com