From: rsk@gynko.circ.upenn.edu (Rich Kulawiec)
Newsgroups: rec.sport.football.pro
Subject: Saying goodbye to Samurai Mike
Date: 16 Dec 92 00:57:47 GMT
Organization: Mike Singletary Appreciation Society


	9 Pro Bowls...
	2-Time NFL Defensive player of the year...
	12 Seasons...
	6 Divisional Titles...
	11-time team leader in tackles...
	169 Games...
 	1 Super Bowl Championship...
	6 feet...
	240 pounds...
	And those two eyes.

By now, it's become passe' to make note of the fire that burns in
Mike Singletary's eyes.  So many camera shots have shown the
intensity that drives him; so many commentators have tried to
put into words what those pictures have shown.  What impresses
me about Samurai Mike is the contrast between the quiet, considered
demeanor he exhibits when being interviewed in a studio...and the
ferocity which consumes him when he steps onto a football field.
And between the analytical "student of the game" who watches endless
game films looking for a crack in the opponent's armor and the relentless
pursuer who sometimes misses tackles simply because he's in on a play
that happened all the way across the field.  And between the spiritually
devout man, a loving husband and father, and the heart and soul of the
defense of the Chicago Bears.

Mike Singletary played his last game at Soldier Field last Sunday.
He received a sendoff not unlike that given Walter Payton when
Sweetness hung up his jersey a few years ago...and with good reason:
in an age when players seem more concerned with money and endorsements
and contracts and prime-time and end-zone dances and many of the
other trivia of professional football, Singletary is a throwback.
He played football for the love of the game, and out of loyalty
for his team.  It's no accident that he started and ended his career
in Chicago; he never even considered playing for another team.
Like Payton, he'll be in the Hall of Fame; and like #34, he'll be
remembered for the 1985 season, when the Bears finally won the NFL's
most important game.  But perhaps he should be remembered for the
consistancy of his performances, the unwillingness to give up no
matter how lopsided the score was, and the perspective that led
him to help many opponents up after having knocked the stuffing
out of them.  Those qualities tell us much more about Mike Singletary
than his statistics, impressive though the latter are.

Most of us will remember him as the guy that played Butkus's
position -- and filled some mighty tough-to-fill shoes.  He was the guy
who stared over the defensive line right at the opposing quarterback,
trying to read the play from his face.  He was the guy who kept losing
his contacts because he wouldn't close his eyes when he hit someone --
because he wanted to make sure they went down.  He was the guy who kept
Dent and Frazier and Fencik and Marshall and Wilson and Perry
and Hampton amd McMichael playing together as a unit.  He was the guy who
stood on the sidelines Sunday, after turning in a terrific performance in
the Bears' victory over the favored Steelers, and listened to the
crowd chanting his name, while a single tear rolled down his face.

But the moment I'll always remember came in the NFC Championship Game
on a cold Chicago Sunday in December, 1985.  The Bears were leading the
Rams 10-0 in the first quarter, but Los Angeles was certainly
still in the game.  There were about two minutes to go in the
quarter, and the Rams faced a 3rd-and-1.  They snapped the ball,
and their lineman opened a huge hole on the right side of the defense.
Eric Dickerson (whose matchup against Walter Payton had been
much-hyped that week) took the handoff and blazed toward the hole.
It looks like a sure first down, and possibly a long gainer.

Until he got there, that is.  For waiting for him in that hole was
Mike Singletary.  Dickerson lowered his head and tried to run through him --
a tactic that would work against a lot of defensive players.  But
Singletary stood his ground...and hit Dickerson so hard that not only
did he fail to make the first down, but he landed on his *back*
in the Rams' backfield.  According to his teammates, Dickerson didn't
know where he was for the rest of the day.  He finished with 17 carries
for 46 yards, and the Bears shut out the Rams.

And when the game was over, Singletary walked over to Dickerson to make
sure that he was alright. 

Those two moments, side by side, illuminate the character of
Mike Singletary, middle linebacker and noble samurai.  It's time
to hang up #50 at Soldier Field and reserve a spot at Canton.

Rich Kulawiec
December 15, 1992
Newsgroups: rec.sport.football.pro