CHICAGO — Well, this was a terrible, embarrassing, second- rate football game. But let me be blunt. The Chicago Bears finished off the Lions Sunday about as quickly as it takes a dog to raise its leg, and with nearly the same respect. On a day fit for tadpoles and the occasional polar bear, they bruised and bullied and stomped all over the silver and blue and left giggling, 24-3 winners.
But that wasn’t the worst part.
That’s it. Cut it out. Not another word about William (The Refrigerator) Perry. I’m sick of hearing about William (The Refrigerator) Perry. I’m tired of seeing his face on everything. I’m tired of all those silly stories about how much he weighs. Enough!
CHICAGO — Say what you want about George and Billy, Kareem and Magic, John and Tatum, but I think the most fascinating sports pair of the year are Mike Ditka and Jim McMahon.
Smash and Crash. Sgt. Bilko and Sting. A coach and his quarterback.
I’m starting my own hall of fame. For hoopla. I call it The Hoopla Hall Of Fame. It will be truly amazing and unbelievably fantastic.
All the BIG NAMES will be in it. You know. The sports heroes the media have decided you cannot live without for more than five minutes.
William (The Refrigerator) Perry will be in my Hall of Fame, posing with a GE Frost-Free. Boris Becker will be there, too. Right next to Hulk Hogan and Andre the Giant.
MINNEAPOLIS — I missed the last couple of Lions’ games on account of the World Series. I made Sunday’s game. I think I’m going back to Missouri.
There is winning pretty, winning ugly, losing pretty and, of course, losing ugly. And then there is the way the Lions lost to Minnesota Sunday, which I’m still trying to figure out how to classify.
Maybe “losing politely.” For as much as the Vikings tried to give this game to Detroit, the Lions steadfastly said, “No, really. It wouldn’t be right. We just couldn’t. No. Sorry.”
OK. About the last two weeks. Let me explain. The Super Bowl champion 49ers came in to play the Lions — and I picked the 49ers. The Super Bowl runner-up Dolphins came in the following week — and I picked the Dolphins.
In both cases, the Lions won.
“How could you be so disloyal?” people asked. “How could you possibly give up on our home team?” people asked. (Actually, I’m not sure whether people asked this. I know the guy at the dry cleaner asked it. At least, I thought I heard him ask it; although, now that I think of it, he might have been talking to someone else.)
CHAMPAIGN, Ill. — There were four seconds left; the score was tied and Andy Moeller, blood smeared across his uniform, was rocking back and forth on his feet, just trying to time his leap.
A piece. That’s all he wanted. Just a piece of the football. He knew this field goal try by Illinois would be the last play of the game.
A piece. Just a piece.
The crowd of 76,000 sucked in its breath. Everything was riding on the kick. For Illinois. For Michigan. And for Andy Moeller and his father, Gary — the Wolverines’ defensive coordinator — who had ties to both.
THE LIVE ALBOM (Halloween Edition)I heard a knock. I opened the door. There stood someone dressed like a billionaire; silk suit, silk tie, turtle shoes, keys to a Rolls-Royce.
“Trick or treat!” he said.
Oh. Kirk Gibson. It’s you. Some people might brag about how, in this very newspaper, they predicted the National and the American league pennant winners correctly. I’m not like that, of course.
ODE TO MANUTE BOL
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