So this is how we mark the end of the Bill Belichick era, by dissolving the final bond that linked the Patriots to the greatest dynasty in the history of the National Football League. It ends with a simple snip, at least in the literal sense, though we know the reality is far more complicated. In New England or anywhere else, Bill Belichick remains one of the most complex, fascinating, accomplished, conniving, deceitful, brilliant and downright incomparable figures in the history of sports.

If the Patriots dynasty was the sports world’s version of the Roman empire, Belichick was your Caesar.

And like Caesar, Bill Belichick’s end was the result of his unquenchable thirst for power, his pride or his hubris, or some combination of all three. Of course, it was also the result of simply losing. But one of those groups inevitably led to the other, which is why the Patriots are precisely where they are today – at the bottom of the NFL food chain, possessors of the second-worst record in the NFL and the third pick in the annual NFL draft, at the decrepit end of an old era before they embark on the humble beginnings of a new one.

Still, make mistake: in its entirety, the entire Belichick era was a indisputable, invaluable gift.

As for the wrapping paper, do with it what you will. (I usually throw it in the trash.)

For example: in one of the many accounts this morning of Belichick and the Patriots electing to “part ways,”  ESPN reported that “Belichick, who had one year remaining on his contract, will be allowed to leave the team without the Patriots seeking compensation.” Allowed to leave? Please. It’s not like Belichick was being held captive here. He’s not being paroled. The Patriots are as happy about Belichick’s departure as Belichick may very well be, but let’s not act like this is an act of generosity on the on part of Patriots owner Robert Kraft. The Patriots went 4-13 this season, not 13-4. The end came because things went south. Belichick wanted to keep coaching and the Patriots no longer wanted him to do it here. If only the latter were true, the Patriots would have given Belichick some sort of ceremonial role the way the Seattle Seahawks did for Pete Carroll.

Instead, Belichick became another NFL coaching casualty in an especially dark corner this year’s Black Monday. The list of high-level coaching changes include even college king and 72-year-old Nick Saban, who joined fellow Golden Girls Belichick (71) and Carroll (72) in at least temporary unemployment. Saban’s departure is being called a retirement. Carroll’s is being a reassignment. Belichick’s is being called whatever you, he or Kraft wants it to be, which is perfectly fine. We’re all allowed to spin our own memories.

What will all those stories become over time? We shall see, but it depends on where Belichick coaches again and whether Saban pops up in the NFL.

As for how Belichick’s time here will be defined, there’s an easy answer: by the winning. And that will always remain true. But, again, it really isn’t that simple. For starters, Brady and his seven Super Bowl titles muddy what many would like to be a clean narrative. Belichick’s time in New England included 13 AFC Championship Games, nine Super Bowl appearances, six Lombardi Trophies and a stream of memories and catchphrases. The Patriots were deemed guilty by the league in two cheating scandals – Spygate and Deflategate – each of which resulted in financial penalties and the loss of first-round draft picks. Drama followed Belichick almost everywhere he went. The phrases “In Bill We Trust,” “We’re on to Cincinnati,” and “Mona Lisa Vito” are now as synonymous with New England as the lanterns in the Old North Church. Bill was playing chess while everyone else was playing checkers. Better to be a year too early than a year too late.

And the games? They were compelling, particularly the big ones, which produced a an avalanche of memories and discussions, good and bad. Vinatieri’s kick. 28-3. Malcolm Butler against the Seahawks and then Butler again against the Eagles. The duels with Payton Manning. The Snow Bowl. The tactical mismatches against the Pittsburgh Steelers and the epic struggles with both Ray Lewis’ Baltimore Ravens and Tom Coughlin’s New York Giants. The perfect season with the imperfect ending.

Belichick commanded all of that, which is not to say that he was more important to the success than Brady was. In the end, his unwillingness to accept that was part of his undoing. Since Brady’s departure, Belichick’s Patriots have gone 28-39 in the regular season and 0-1 in the playoffs, their only postseason appearance a 47-17 defeat to the Buffalo Bills. During that span, against anyone other than the perennial doormat New York Jets, the Patriots went 21-39. Belichick got sloppy with his roster, downright silly with his coaching staff. He started doing things like employing longtime defensive coaches on the other side of the ball, the kind of arrogant behavior that comes when you think you can do anything and get away with it.

Does that all make this a bad ending? Perhaps. But it obviously and hardly makes it all a failure. Whether a direct result of Belichick’s actions or those of the quarterback and players he coached, Belichick’s presence in New England was marked by unmatched heights in the history of the Patriots or all of Boston sports. Only Red Auerbach is qualified to share the same stage. Everyone else is at least a level or two below.

What happens next?

Good question.

But whatever it is, it can’t possible be as compelling as the last 24 years.