The ownership. The draft picks. The defense letting some quarterback stand back there long enough to call his mother.
But when I heard Mike Ditka was gone, I didn’t feel like doing any of that.
I felt sad, man.
He made me proud to be a Bears fan when I was a kid. And I’m finding out that feeling stays with you, even when you get older and the people you watched those games with aren’t around anymore.
That Guy Gave a Shit
That’s what I keep coming back to with Ditka.
The guy gave a shit.
About winning. About his players. About being the coach of the Chicago Bears.
You could see it. You could hear it. Sometimes you could probably hear it from the parking lot.
Was he perfect? No. He had a temper. He could be stubborn. I’m sure there were days McMahon saw him coming and thought, '“here we fucking go.”
But I loved watching him. He made you feel like being a Bear meant something. You had a job to do, and he expected you to do it.
As a kid, I looked up to that. I liked that he stood up for himself. I liked that he expected something from everybody, including the stars.
And now, all these years later, I still respect it.
I Remember Having Fun
We spend so much time arguing about this team that sometimes I forget how much fun it was watching those Bears.
I was a kid in Jersey. Everybody around me had their Giants gear, and I was proud as hell to wear my Bears stuff.
We had Walter Payton. We had McMahon. We had guys on defense who made you feel pretty good about turning the game on.
And we had Ditka.
I wanted to watch the whole game. I wanted to talk about it afterward. I wanted the next Sunday to hurry up and get here.
That’s a great thing to have when you’re a kid.
And listen, I’m still that guy. I still get excited. You’ve seen what happens when this team gives me something worth getting excited about.
I want more of that.
I want to enjoy watching the Bears without spending half the afternoon asking why the fuck we can’t do the simple things.
Ditka reminds me of a time when I believed we could win every week. We didn’t, obviously. But I believed it.
I miss that feeling.
My Uncle Got Me Into This
My uncle was the one who got me watching the Bears.
And when he told me Ditka was Ukrainian, like our family, that made it even better.
I remember how proud he was.
Here was this tough guy coaching our team, and my uncle was telling me he was one of us.
That meant a lot to me.
I didn’t know then that I’d still be thinking about that conversation forty-plus years later. I was just a kid watching football with my uncle.
Now I wish I could call him.
I’d like to hear what he’d say about Ditka. About the Bears now. About me still being this fucking worked up over them.
That’s the hard part.
You get older, and you have fewer people to call about the things you used to share.
Then something like this happens, and you remember all of them at once.
There Was More to Him
Everybody remembers Ditka getting mad. The arguments. The look he’d give somebody when he’d heard enough.
I loved that stuff too.
But I also respect what he did for retired players who needed help. Through Gridiron Greats, he supported guys dealing with money problems and medical needs after football was over.
That matters to me.
We cheer for these guys for years. They get hurt. They stop playing. Then the next season starts, and everybody’s talking about somebody new.
Some of those guys still need help.
Ditka cared about them. That’s something I want people to remember when they talk about him.
He could be tough, and he could care about people. I admired both.
This One Was Personal
I know a lot of Bears fans are hurting over this.
Some watched him play. Some grew up watching him coach, like I did. Some are younger and heard about him from their parents.
He meant something to all of us.
For me, he brings back my family. Watching football together. Eating. Talking. Arguing in Ukrainian while the game was on.
I miss those people.
I’d love to have another Sunday with them. The Bears wouldn’t even have to win. I’d just like everybody to be there.
Although, come on. A win would be nice.
I don’t need to explain away why this hit me. Ditka was somebody I looked up to, and he was part of a time in my life that I loved.
Of course it hurts.
To his family, I’m sorry for your loss. I hope you know how much he meant to Bears fans, including this guy in New York City who never stopped wearing his gear.
