If there's one thing I've learned in this business over the past 32 years, it's that people lie to me.

What a surprise, huh?

But it's not really a shock. I caught on to this a long time ago, especially in regard to professional athletes when they're active players, as opposed to once they've settled down in a comfortable retirement.

These thoughts were spurred in part by the decision of Patriots' coach Bill Belichick to go for the first down on fourth-and-2 at his own 28 late in Sunday's game in Indianapolis, and the torrent of commentary that followed by all sorts of pundits - including those who, just a few short months ago, wore the uniform of the team they criticized in the wake of the play's failure.

Not long after the Colts scored the winning touchdown, former Patriots' safety Rodney Harrison saw the little light turn on above the NBC camera pointing in his face, and with a pained expression and sadness in his eyes, said it was the worst decision he had ever seen Bill Belichick make. The next day, in a safer forum in which TV viewers could not try to analyze body language, former Patriots' linebacker Tedy Bruschi - arguably the heart and soul of the Patriots' defense for a majority of his lengthy career - wrote on ESPNBoston.com that the decision would have made his "blood boil."

"As a former defender on that team," Bruschi wrote, "I would've cared less about the result of that fourth-down attempt. The decision to go for it would be enough to make my blood boil for weeks. Bill Belichick sent a message to his defense. ... It was a message of doubt. A message that will be with the entire defensive unit - coaches and players - until a situation comes up like this again."

Strong words from a respected source, no doubt.

Yet I can guarantee you that had Bruschi been on the field wearing his No. 54 jersey Sunday night and those same events had come to pass, the words "blood" and "boil" would not have been heard coming from his mouth. Ditto for Harrison's commentary, although Rodney always managed to find a way to sneak a few "Patriotically incorrect" statements into his comments to the media, a privilege afforded him by Belichick out of respect for his long career.

Truth is a joyous thing. It cleanses you, energizes you, sets you free. After years of being under the heavy thumb of Belichick and his ministers of disinformation, it must be a liberating experience for fellows like Harrison and Bruschi to finally be able to say what they are actually thinking.

As someone whose job it is to report the truth, however, I can tell you that this sudden liberation is nothing new.

Belichick didn't invent "the company line." Far from it. It's the credo of the locker room - "What's said here, stays here" - and only once one is fully separated from the cocoon of jock straps and analgesic balm is the privilege of truthfulness afforded him.

It was present in the days of the players we now regard as the elder statesmen of the franchise. Steve Grogan, Steve Nelson, Pete Brock, John Hannah, Russ Francis, and so on - all had to speak the company line as prescribed by Chuck Fairbanks, Ron Erhardt, Ron Meyer and Raymond Berry, although it seemed a lot less contentious then than it does today.

For instance, during the height of the Patriots' financial troubles near the end of the Sullivan ownership, player after player claimed that the off-field problems were not a distraction to them on the field.

Get any of them aside over a few frosty beers a quarter-century later, however, and they'll say to a man, "It was a HUGE distraction!" We in the media knew that. But we couldn't write it, except in opinion columns, because the players wouldn't confirm it. And because what everyone in the locker room knew to be fact could be expressed only in the opinion of the writers, it caused hero-worshiping fans to hate the media for trying to tear their beloved team apart.

I don't hold it against anyone. That was the requirement of their job. I did mine as well.

Today, the same things go on - but players seem to enjoy lying to the media more than they used to.

Did anyone speak out against the release of Lawyer Milloy when it happened at a bad time? No. They spoke out on the field, letting the Bills run all over them in the opener of that season, but heck no, it wasn't a distraction.

Did anyone decry the shipping of Richard Seymour to Oakland before the start of this season? Nope. But if you think that people in that locker room weren't ticked off about it, you're kidding yourself.

And maybe 20 years from now, one or two of those fellows will pour their SmartWater into an ice-filled glass, look at me from across the table, and says, "Yeah, we hated our coach."

Bruschi and Harrison didn't wait quite that long. Not surprisingly, the current Patriots also didn't wait long to trot out a spokesman with the company line.

"I have the utmost respect for Tedy and everything he's done for this organization, but he's not in this locker room at this point in time, so he doesn't know the feelings of this defense or that this team has," second-year linebacker Jerod Mayo said.

In other words, Hey, Tedy, thanks for the 13 years and all, but you're dead to us now that you've hung up the uniform.

That shouldn't come as a surprise. It's the way things are done in the pros. The players lie to us, and we lie to you by using their quotes, but we become the bad guys for trying to tell you the truth in opinion pieces despite what the individuals say.

I'm wondering, though, how Bruschi and Harrison feel about being the "enemy" in so short a time after they were part of the club.

Don't worry, guys. Your old buddies will talk to you again, soon enough. You may be dead to them now, but you'll always be part of the fraternity.

Just not right now, no matter how true what you say might be. Welcome to the real world.

MARK FARINELLA may be reached at 508-236-0315 or via e-mail at mfarinel@thesunchronicle.com. Read Farinella's blog, "Blogging Fearlessly," at thesunchronicle.com/farinella.