The '85 Bears: We Were the Greatest (19 page)

But now it was Packer week again, and we were going up to Green Bay. This wasn’t Soldier Field tail-gating. There weren’t going to be Bears fans anywhere. There was a lot of mouthiness going on already, especially, it seemed to me, from their side. They were only 3–5, but the Packers-Bears series is like a division within the division. Lose to them, and it diminishes anything else you accomplish.

Like I said, I didn’t hate the Packers. When I went up there as a rookie coach in 1982, they had one of the classiest guys I’d ever met in my life at coach, Bart Starr. I had great respect for him, both as a player and a leader. Here it is, my first game, and they put on the Lambeau scoreboard, “THE GREEN BAY PACKERS WELCOME MIKE DITKA AND THE CHICAGO BEARS.” They didn’t have to do that. Everybody was saying this is hostile country, but that was just classy.

I wasn’t so sure now. Maybe they were still mad about Fridge running over them. Maybe George Cumby represented the little guys who get in the way of a concrete mixer. I don’t know, but the Packers came out and were dirtier than dirt. It was disgusting. Just a few minutes into the game this defensive back named Mark Lee hit Payton after Walter was already out of bounds and knocked him into the wall beyond the bench. What the hell was that? They threw Lee out of the game. And it only fired up Walter. The guy had over 100 yards rushing by halftime. He had 192 yards for the game, his most in eight years. But this was just chickenshit. I was so angry I could have busted my clipboard into sawdust. Packers players had towels with hit lists on them. They absolutely did.

Some clown named Ken Stills had already hit McMahon late and hard. Then he came flying up
from I don’t know how far away and creamed Suhey from the blind side three or four seconds after a play was over. Suhey was a tough kid, but he could have been really hurt bad. Stills got a 15-yard penalty, but he should have been thrown out of the game, too. It was the most gutless move I think I’ve ever seen, because if he’d done it straight, Matt would’ve kicked his ass from here to next year. And if Stills was told to do it by his coach, his coach is gutless, too.

It was ugly. I might have told my team to retaliate, but I’m not sure if I did. Anyway, they didn’t. We just played football. That’s all you can do. I think even a lot of Packers fans were embarrassed by the actions of some of their players. Those actions were horrendous. They stunk. It was the ultimate cowardliness that I’d ever seen on a field. It was so contrary to everything the Packers stood for. This might have been the only time there was actual hatred between the teams. And I maintain to this day that it was instigated by one man, their coach. If you can’t control your team, then it’s your fault. The league didn’t fine guys back then like they do now, or that might have got the players’ attention, since Forrest Gregg sure didn’t. There might have been some of the biggest fines ever given in sports. Walter said after the game he thought Lee was a guy trying to impress his coach. And he probably was.

The reason the Packers were doing all of this was because they weren’t good enough to line up against us nose to nose and beat us. In 1983 we were playing the Detroit Lions and they had us basically beaten, and then they faked a field goal and threw a touchdown pass to pile it on. I was hot. I got Dave Duerson, who was a rookie, and told him that on the kickoff I didn’t care what happened, I wanted him to knock Lions kicker Eddie Murray on his ass. Maybe some players wouldn’t have done it, but Dave did. He knocked the crap out of Murray. Just blasted him. The Detroit coaches were out of their minds, screaming at us, yelling to the refs. It was legal. They’re all wearing pads. Just because he’s a kicker doesn’t mean he can’t get hit. But maybe it wasn’t right.

Anyway, I was young and madder than they were. But Murray never talked to me again. I used to play in some golf tournaments, and he’d be there and would just turn the other way.

Detroit’s coach back then was Monte Clark, and I know he was a good guy. The problem was mine. It was basically me not knowing what it took to be a mature, solid head coach. We played the Seahawks in 1982 when I was a rookie coach, and they ran a triple reverse on us for big yardage, and the press asked me about it afterward. I said it was a stupid-ass high school play. That was wrong, too. I had no reason to say that. I learned that the other guys are always going to remember what you said. And if you’ll notice, after a couple years, I never
gave the opponent any more bulletin-board material. I never said a word.

In the Green Bay game, not that I was trying to make a point or anything, but I sent William Perry in for a play just before half. We were down 3–0 at the time, and I knew the Packers thought Fridge was going to steamroll somebody, probably Cumby, all over again. We put William in motion to the right—he looked like a sumo wrestler heading for the ring—and then he slid along the line of scrimmage toward the end zone. The defender had braced for a collision, but Fridge went past him, and McMahon threw him a perfect pass for a four-yard touchdown. Perry caught it with his hands like it was a basketball, his hands reversed from the way football receivers do it, and walked in untouched. Gregg had to be furious. That put us ahead 7–3, and we hung on to win 16–10. I’m not sure, but I think McMahon gave Forrest the finger as he ran off for halftime. Sorry about that.

Some Chicago writer called Perry the “Galloping Roast,” and Gary Fencik said what was true: using Perry as a threat was funny, but “he has to be taken seriously.” Damn right. I refuse to make it all drudgery. I just don’t believe in that. But the fun is effective. Why shouldn’t it be? I look at all of these coaches nowadays and you see them in press conferences and, hell, you can’t figure out if they won or lost. Does his wife love him or did she just divorce his sorry ass? Mr. Blankface, what’s your problem? It’s like all of you guys have been cloned. HAVE SOME FUN!

The papers called Fridge the Galloping Roast? At least they didn’t say he was the “Stuffed Turkey.” I told you how amazing it was to see him on this diet in later years and him working so hard in practice and still not losing weight. Of course, I found out they were bringing pizzas and cases of beer into the dorm late at night, and he’d be wolfing the stuff down—I think he could drink a case of beer no problem—and then he’d be five pounds heavier at weigh-ins the next morning. And he couldn’t figure out why his diet wasn’t working.

The thing is, sports are a one-time thing. You better do what you can when you can do it. Maybe you can be a doctor for 50 years, or drive a truck that long, but your sports career comes and goes in a hurry. I heard from somebody later in the season that Michael Jordan had broken his foot and had already been out for weeks. And there he was just starting his second year with the Bulls after an unbelievable rookie season. He was probably out for a long time. You never know. That’s why this was so important. Right now. This season. This week. This practice. This play.

So far, so good.

We had been forced to come from behind six times, but we were still undefeated. And we were halfway to our goal.

T
he Bears did not put themselves in another hole against Minnesota and need to turn to Jim McMahon, as they had in Game 3. This time they put away the Vikings early and kept them down in what some thought was one of their best games of the season.

McMahon struck with a 33-yard touchdown pass to Dennis McKinnon in the first quarter, and Kevin Butler made it 10–0 with a 40-yard field goal. Minnesota fought back with a one-yard touchdown run by Darrin Nelson, but another Butler field goal put the Bears up 13–7 at halftime.

The Minnesota offense was done for the most part after that first score. The Bears’ defense went on an interception frenzy against Tommy Kramer, the Minnesota quarterback who had been so effective against them in the first meeting, and backup Wade Wilson. The Bears’ five interceptions gave them 21 through eight games, the same number they’d had for all of 1984. In fact, Otis Wilson returned one interception 23 yards for a touchdown in the third quarter.

The game marked the first real appearance of William Perry at defensive tackle. He recorded his first NFL sack and played well enough to be inserted into the starting lineup for the final eight games of the season. For all the attention paid to his time as a running or blocking back, this was the job he most wanted to do.

Otis Wilson leads the cheers after a fourth-quarter sack of the Vikings’ Tommy Kramer.

Chicago Bears tackle Dan Hampton leaps over a downed Minnesota Viking to corner quarterback Tommy Kramer during the game in Chicago on October 28, 1985.

While the defense was holding the Vikings to 30 rushing yards, the Bears were getting Walter Payton 118 yards on 19 carries and 202 rushing yards as a team. This was Payton’s third straight 100-yard game in what would be a record-setting stretch of 100-yarders.

The Bears amassed 413 yards of total offense, the fourth time in eight games they had topped 400 yards. At the midpoint of the season they were the NFL’s only undefeated team and led in yards gained on offense and fewest allowed on defense.

The offense was continuing to stretch out in its distribution of the ball among backs, wide receivers, and tight ends. Payton and Matt Suhey each caught five passes, Emery Moorehead four, Tim Wrightman two, and McKinnon, Willie Gault, and James Maness one apiece.