Sweetness_ The Enigmatic Life of Walter Payton - Jeff Pearlman [149]
If there is a change coming to the Bears’ offensive approach, a change that will be unwelcome to Payton, his method for dealing with it is a strange and private one. It is a kind of gamesmanship, a puzzle in which we are expected to guess the answer, whether Payton has an answer or not.
When he first accepted the Bears job, Ditka had been warned in private that Payton’s image didn’t always match reality. The toothy smile masked moodiness; the confident walk hid insecurity. “Walter went from energetic and peppy to dour and angry in a second,” said Al Harris. “Like a light switch.” Yet even with advance notice, Ditka was blindsided by his occasionally poor attitude. “If you spent enough time with Walter, you picked up that he wanted his vast modesty to be universally accepted,” said Daley, a Tribune columnist from 1981 to ’85. “But I remember talking to some players on how they worried about Walter, and how he never seemed fulfilled. He always seemed angry without usually whining about it, and he had a lot of resentment. He was resentful when McMahon came along and he wasn’t sufficiently appreciated, and he was resentful when other Bears got the credit and he didn’t. He was lionized and revered in Chicago, but it was never enough.
“Honestly I think Walter was unprepared for a team with other stars and a coach who was a star. He was the type of guy who said he was just part of the team, but who never fully believed it.”
When told of Payton’s harsh words after the Patriots win, Ditka—who had resisted taking any shots at his franchise player—could no longer hold back. “It’s unfortunate,” he said. “I can understand [the whining] if you play golf or tennis or billiards. You’re one-on-one with the world. But we’re a forty-nine-man sport.”
The following day, Ditka called Payton at his home to clear the air.
“There’s no problem at all,” Ditka told the Tribune afterward. “Everything gets blown out of proportion.”
Payton, who ended the shortened season ranked tenth in the NFL with 596 rushing yards, was asked for his take.
“No comment,” he said.
CHAPTER 18
POWER
IN THE SUMMER OF 1981, THE CHICAGO BEARS SIGNED A ROOKIE FREE AGENT wide receiver by the name of Mike Pinckney. In two seasons at Northern Illinois, Pinckney established himself as one of the better players in Huskies history. As a senior he earned second team all-Mid-American Conference honors by catching thirty passes for 392 yards and gaining another 563 yards on kickoff and punt returns. Always on the lookout for a hidden gem, the Bears gave the undrafted Pinckney a shot.
Although on the Northern Illinois campus Pinckney gained mild notoriety for his football exploits, his true claim to fame was a most peculiar one: Mike Pinckney was a dead ringer for Walter Payton.
From the charcoal skin tone to the high cheekbones to the muscular forearms, Pinckney looked as if he were the lead singer of a Sweetness tribute band. “When I first got to camp with the Bears, fans were stopping me all the time, yelling ‘Walter! Walter! Walter!’ and asking for autographs,” said Pinckney. “At first I corrected them, but after a while I’d just write ‘WP 34.’ It made life easier.”
Pinckney found the confusion funny, if not somewhat embarrassing. Walter Payton was one of the great running backs of all time. Mike Pinckney was just trying to land a job. “I never even mentioned any of it to Walter,” he said. “Too weird.”
During camp, Pinckney’s roommate was Tim Ehlebracht, a rookie wide receiver from nearby North Central College. One night, the two players took a drive to Naperville, where a handful of bars lined Chicago Avenue. Before settling upon a final destination, Ehlebracht hatched a plan. “Pinckney, let’s do this,” he said. “I’ll introduce you as Walter and we’ll see how far it can go.”
Pinckney nodded, and as the teammates entered the first club Ehlebracht pulled aside the manager, a man he knew. “John, I’d like to introduce you to Walter Payton,” he said, pointing toward Pinckney. “Walter wanted to get away from camp for a night. He’d appreciate it if you could