Doug Buffone - Doug Buffone: Monster of the Midway: My 50 Years with the Chicago Bears

To my wife and soul mate, Danajust as beautiful now as you were the first day I met you.

Your love, warmth, and vitality brought new meaning to a guy who was dealing with life without shoulder pads and crowd noise. You gave me a giant spark of energy and a new sense of passion right from the get-go. You truly make me feel eternally blessed and eternally grateful.

My checks said I played for the Chicago Bears, but thats not really the whole story. The simple fact is, I played for the fans of Chicago, fans I love as much, or more, today than I did five decades ago.

Doug Buffone

February 2015

Contents

Authors Note by Chet Coppock

Doug Buffone just wasnt supposed to leave usat least not so soon. There were still too many belly laughs to be enjoyed, too many complaints to bring forth about the Bears offense, and too many days and nights of his brilliant football career to hash and then, for gosh sakes, rehash.

Sadly, I dont make the rules. None of us do.

Did I mention Dougs ever-present cigar that was never lit, but was chewed so badly it looked like a dead rat on a dirt road?

Monday, April 20, 2015, in Chicago dawned with an overcast sky and light rain. The day, in and of itself, seemed particularly somber. I was undergoing a physical exam at Rush when my phone became an explosion of texts and phone calls. I tried to be the good patient, but I finally gave in to the bell when I saw my son Tyler was on the line.

The kid didnt mince words. Tip simply told me, Dad, Doug Buffone has passed.

Its strange how one reacts to the loss of a family member or a close friend. No matter how many times we see a loved one enter the landscape of death, somehow it always seems unfamiliar.

Frankly, my initial reaction to Buffs passing was that if the Bears know whats right theyll have their players wear a 55 patch in 2015 to honor this living, breathing success story who gave the club so many Sundays of ferocity.

Twitter and Facebook erupted with praise for Doug. You almost got the sense that people who had never seen him play but knew him by name or via his on-air work felt like they knew this hunk of leather from the Pennsylvania mining region. Is there such a thing as Twitter-bonding?

Forget about the legendary Will Rogers. Doug Buffone never met a man, woman, or child he didnt like. His gracious smile and the glowing warmth of his personality could do the impossible: melt Rahm Emanuel.

Bruce Rauner ran for governor on unlimited money. Doug should have sought the same position running on kindness. Number 55, we need one more lunch at Carmichaels or another argument about Jay Cutler over egg whites at the East Bank Club.

Dare I dream about the young kid out of Louisville who occupied the Sam, the strong-side linebacker spot, for so many years in a Bears uniform? Why not? A young Doug BuffoneNFL player, saloon keeper, and Rush Street golden boywas cool.

You know, Buff, you could have forced your way out of the Halas kingdom in the late 60s or early 70s by playing the role of bad actor. However, that wasnt you. Your passion for Chicago was unequaled. Gil Brandt and the all-powerful Dallas Cowboys were crazy in love with you.

They wanted you to play middle linebacker for Tom Landry. Yet, you never chose to leave. You wanted to play for those Bears fans who yearned to see you beneath the glowing lights of the postseason. I spent the night of your passing going back and forth with thought after thought about what wasand what might have been.

Doug, I guarantee you Larry Wolfe, your right-hand man and celebrated financial savant, and of course your wife, Dana, and a guy named Coppock will make your book happen.

We owe that to you.

I was blessed to spend considerable time with D.B. during his last year on this Earth. Time for which I shall forever be grateful. Hopefully, we constructed a read that will open eyes to a spectacular individual career that, all too frequently, was back-stopped by a bunch of clowns in Orange and Blue who would have been better occupied working as all-night managers at a 7-Eleven in Peoria.

Doug, it breaks my heart when I think about how enthused you were about the book tour we were planning. We already had numerous commitments. Time and again I thought about the yarns wed spin on the road or how much wed argue about the merits of new Bears heavyweights Ryan Pace and John Fox.

Just once I wish people could have heard you mutter, I wonder if people care enough to read about me. Jeez Buff, for heavens sake, you were larger than life. Your death put TV, radio, and the print media into overdrive.

Ill always remember WBBM-TV reporter Dana Kozlov coming by my West Loop residence to get my thoughts about you, a man I first met when Nixon was in the White House. I think a great deal of Dana Kozlov. Shes a superb journalist, but how do you explain in a 35-second sound bite the reverence Dick Butkus had for you or the appreciation your Green Bay rival, Paul Hornung, had for your style of play? Yeah, the same Hornung you once leveled so badly that he had to leave a ballgame back in the 60s.

Of course, I cried. It broke my heart to see Dana and your twin daughters so horribly distraught. But I know Dana will never let the ship capsize. This gorgeous lady with a such a great sense of self and a remarkably loving soul couldnt live with herself if she let you down.

Doug, thanks for 45 years, pal, and especially for one magical year that truly reawakened my spirit.

Now, go argue contract money with George Halas. You just know the Old Man will relish the opportunity to square off against a bruising, yet intelligent, athlete who was everything the beloved Old Man sought in a Chicago Bear.

I love you, Doug. Of greater importance, Chicago, your town, will always love youand truly never forget you.

Chet Coppock

April 21, 2015

Foreword by Dan Hampton

I still feel honored that back in 79 a photographer took a picture of myself with Doug Buffone for the book Halas by Halas. Ill always treasure that.

I was very lucky. Early in my career, Doug, O.B., and Butkus took a liking to me. We used to have dinner together all the time at Mortons. You know, Doug was kind of like your cool cousin. When I first met him, he had restaurants and he also had his own magazine, The Doug Buffone Chicago Bears Report.

A lot of guys wanted to be just like him. I would just sit there and listen to them talk about how the game was supposed to be played. Id say to Steve McMichael and Mike Hartenstein, This is how we gotta play!

Doug was unequivocally an inspiration to me.

Buffone didnt know it, but along with Dick and O.B., they gave me the hidden hymn of what the Bears preached as Monsters of the Midway.

Those guys were just great to me.

I like to think they saw some of themselves in me.

In 79, when I joined the Bears, I was green as grass. Id been to one pro football game in my life. I really didnt know who Walter Payton was. Id heard of him, just like I had heard about Doug. But I really didnt know him either.

I was a deer in the headlights.

It was Buffones last year and we went through a brutal training camp under coach Neill Armstrong. I had become part of a small clique with Doug Plank, Hart, Gary Fencik, and Tom Hicks. Doug really wasnt the grizzled football player hed been 10 years earlier, but guys marveled at his work ethic. Jeez, he was in with our trainer, Fred Caito, all the time, but you never saw him complain or beg off.