8601040842
DETROIT FREE PRESS
860127
Monday, January 27, 1986
METRO FINAL CHASER
1F
MITCH ALBOM
Copyright (c) 1986, Detroit Free Press
NO CLOWNING! THE PATS WERE A VERY BAD JOKE
NEW ORLEANS -- Send in the clowns. Super Bowl XX was a circus, a laugh, a
joke -- a bad joke if your seat was in New England, because the Patriots were
merely the cotton candy to keep the kids quiet.
The Chicago Bears were the whole show.
It was 46-10 when they mercifully brought the curtain down on this, a
Super Bowl that brought a new low to high expectations. Some had predicted an
even match. Even?
Before the first half ended, the Patriots' running game had been blown to
pieces. Their starting quarterback, Tony Eason, was merely a scared kid
watching his replacement from the sidelines. There were tears forming in the
eyes of the New England reserves. And across the field the Bears were
laughing. Even?
No. The Pats had 14 yards of offense in the first half. Total. Two
complete passes. Total. The Bears went to the locker room leading, 23-3, at
halftime. They probably would have scored more if they hadn't been too busy
deciding what movie they would star in next.
The game was over. Only the show was left.
Send in the trapeze artists. And the men on the unicycles.
The Bears had the beat. They slapped high-fives in between sacking the
quarterback and low-fives in between long passes and powerful rushes. They
held the Pats to seven yards rushing. Seven yards? They forced six turnovers.
They set all sorts of scoring records. The Super Bowl? Hey. It's just a
three-ringed party.
And the circus atmosphere was never more in focus than with the whale-like
form of William (The Refrigerator) Perry rolling out to pass -- to pass? -- in
the first quarter, cocking his arm like a fat man's Johnny Unitas. It was as
if some beer- drinking dockworker fell asleep on the couch and woke up as
quarterback in the Super Bowl.
The Bears didn't score on Fridge's rumble. But they had fun. And that
about summed up the rest of the contest.
Send in the lion-tamer. Shoot the man from the cannon. Where are those
dancing hyenas?
Behind the smoke was reality
Well. OK. The big question from New England fans this morning will be: Why?
The best answer might be: Why not?
The Bears were always supposed to win, and win big. All that blubbering
about how the Patriots were "different" this time should have been bottled
and sold as a cure for baldness on Bourbon Street. It had about that much
validity.
Read the statistics and reintroduce yourself to reality. This was Jim
McMahon, a headband for every occasion, whacking out the yardage -- 256
passing yards, plus two rushing touchdowns.
This was the Bears' defense squeezing blood from the opponents -- allowing
one field goal and one late touchdown.
The offense scored. The defense scored. Perry scored -- which is a little
of both.
So lopsided was this affair that the Bears got to play their third-string
quarterback before it was over. So lopsided that the big "controversy" was why
Walter Payton didn't score. So lopsided that it seems too cruel to call the
Patriots "losers" here. They were more like "featured players" -- like the
hired lackeys the Harlem Globetrotters beat up on every week.
The Pats' defense was a white flag. Their offense was simply a necessary
interruption every now and then, like having to visit the bathroom in between
pitchers of beer.
The simple truth is this: Four weeks ago, Chicago versus New England would
have been considered a mismatch. And for all the smoke that arose since then,
not very much changed.
The Bears are the best team in football.
Send in the dancing elephants.
Winning the old-fashioned way
"Some people told me we could win handily," Bears coach Mike Ditka said
afterward, "and I guess deep down I believed them." Why not? The Bears earned
their way here, cutting their teeth on the bones of opponents. The Pats got
here more by other teams' butterfingers and a little magic. No, they weren't
as bad as they showed Sunday. But what difference would it make? The Bears
were going to win this.
Most of the fans inside the Superdome seemed to realize that, even if the
so-called experts didn't.
You could tell by halftime, when the first thumping strains of the Bears'
rock song, "The Super Bowl Shuffle," came pounding out of the loudspeakers and
people jumped to their feet and started singing along. This was not a game, it
was a crowning. The Bears were already kings.
The Pats were dreaming. But dreaming in this crescent city comes with
liquid hurricanes and jazz at midnight. Reality is more sobering, and it's
giving New England a headache this morning. But that's the way it is. And was
meant to be. So pack up the helmets. Bag the extra footballs. And send in
the clowns -- some fat men, some costumed men, some dancing Bears, some
comedians with big mouths and sunglasses.
On second thought, don't bother. They're here.
And they just won the Super Bowl.
COLUMN;FOOTBALL;GAME;CHICAGO