How many times have we said, “Oh, if only (fill in the blank) had been alive to see this.”
So it was heartwarming to see Steve McMichael — “Mongo” on the legendary Chicago Bears teams of the mid-1980s — get the call at last to the Hall of Fame. McMichael, a ferocious defensive tackle who played an incredible 15 NFL seasons, has amyotrophic lateral sclerosis, or ALS, the incurable fatal affliction better known as Lou Gehrig’s disease. At age 66, he lies immobilized and can’t speak.
That McMichael remains among us seems by itself something of a miracle. His Hall of Fame case is compelling, as local NFL historian Jack Silverstein has documented, but his is one of those examples of players overshadowed by others on great teams whose accomplishments go underappreciated. In the case of the Hall of Fame, if they are to get in, former players like McMichael who are past their initial eligibility must be inducted by a so-called seniors committee.
The 10-minute piece ESPN ran in the Super Bowl run-up on McMichael and wife Misty and their tenacious bid for the hall was a legitimate tearjerker. Here was a lion of old, shown in all the ingloriousness of mortality, clinging to life for that acknowledgement of what he’d done in his glory days. He’s been surrounded and supported by legendary teammates of old like Richard Dent, Dan Hampton and Mike Singletary, all of whom are in the hall.
Three players on the four-man defensive line from that team now are or will be enshrined in Canton. We knew back then when we were watching that we hadn’t seen anything like that pass rush before. The passage of time hasn’t changed that.
Forever from now, the words “Hall of Famer” will precede the mention of Steve McMichael. As it should be. And, most importantly, he knows that.