Sweetness_ The Enigmatic Life of Walter Payton - Jeff Pearlman [146]
“You were expected to be in the meeting room at seven o’clock that night,” said Ted Albrecht, the veteran offensive lineman. “I check into the hotel, get down there early, start saying hi to everybody. Then Ditka walked in and the room got very quiet.”
The coach stood before his new players, a Dallas Cowboys Super Bowl Ring adorning a finger on his left hand. He glared sternly toward Bob Fisher, a reserve tight end who was wearing sunglasses and a baseball cap while nibbling on the end of an unlit cigar. “Lemme make this clear,” he scolded. “There’ll be no hats, no sunglasses, and no tobacco in my meetings.” Fisher, who would fail to make the team, felt two inches tall. Following the rant, Ditka asked the players to stand one by one and introduce themselves. Receiver James Scott, back after a disappointing year in the Canadian Football League, tiptoed into the room midway through and took a seat near the back. “Typical of Scottie,” said Fred Caito, the trainer. “He thought he could do whatever the hell he wanted.”
Not anymore.
“You!” Ditka yelled. “Who are you?”
Scott stood. “James Scott,” he said. “Wide receiver.”
“James Scott, wide receiver—get the fuck out,” the coach snarled. “You’re late, and I don’t do late.”
Scott froze, dumbfounded.
“James Scott, I’m not kidding,” Ditka said. “Get. The. Fuck. Out.” He called for Caito. “Fred, go grab one of those big garbage bags and empty James Scott’s fucking locker out.” Ditka and Scott stepped into the hallway, where the high-pitched screaming could be heard from miles away. After five minutes, Ditka returned. Scott did not. His possessions were, literally, tossed into the street. Two days later, with his tail between his legs, Scott apologized. “That was exactly the right message,” said Caito. “That we were no longer going to put up with the bullshit.”
Ditka stepped back to the front of the room and the meeting officially began. He ordered all the players to tell a teammate, “I love you.” The commandment was met with awkward silence.
“Do it!” Ditka said.
I love you . . . I love you . . . I love you . . . I love you . . .
“This is a team, and a team is a family,” Ditka said. “We stand up for one another, we fight for one another, we defend one another, we love one another.” He proceeded to declare that the Chicago Bears were going to win the Super Bowl. “It’s not my plan,” he said. “It’s my reality.”
A couple of veterans scoffed. Ditka didn’t stand for scoffing.
“Look at everyone around you,” he yelled. “Really, look around.”
He watched as players turned their heads left and right.
“OK,” he said. “Eighty percent of you sons of bitches won’t be here come September first. That’s your warning.”
Speech over.
• Second, on April 27 the Chicago Bears held the fifth overall pick in the NFL Draft. According to the Tribune, the team was strongly considering Walter Abercrombie, a record-setting halfback out of Baylor University. Payton couldn’t believe it. The last thing the team needed was another running back.
As usual, he braced for inevitable disappointment—then watched with glee as the Bears took quarterback Jim McMahon from Brigham Young. When Finks was running the team, quarterbacks were all but ignored. Finks was no longer running the team. “Taking Jim,” said Leslie Frazier, a defensive back, “was one of the most important decisions in turning the franchise around.”
• Third, the Bears held a follow-up mini-camp at Lake Forest in May. It was supposed to be voluntary. According to league rules, it had to be voluntary. Wide receiver Rickey Watts, a player as lazy as Payton was driven, made a token one-day appearance before departing unannounced. He was the team’s second-leading returning