Practice site doesn't have to be perfect

As the New York Giants' wild-card game against the San Francisco 49ers was ending, fans at the Meadowlands began chanting, ''We want the Bears! We want the Bears!'' The Giants had been impressive in smacking the 49ers 17-3, but the fact that so many of the 76,000 howling fans actually wanted a piece of the 15-1 Bears showed a certain audacity that only could come from the safety of a bleacher seat and a throat warmed by a flask of booze. The Bears had gone to the Atlanta Falcons' training camp in Suwanee, Ga., to practice for the first round. Ditka had wanted to set up camp at the University of Illinois, but the plastic bubble that was needed to cover the field couldn't be erected in timeo matter. It was just geography. The Bears hadn't changed from what they were. They may have lost to the Dolphins and had internal squabbling that was embarrassing and unprofessional, but they hadn't died. They had been nicked, frustrated and lowered a half-notch, and they were angry.

We practiced anywhere during that season. It didn't matter. We had the one grass field behind the offices there in Lake Forest, but the college team would play its games there on Saturdays, and sometimes the field was torn to crap. When it rained or there was lightning, sometimes we'd go into the college gym and run our stuff in sneakers. But as it got later in the season and the field got more torn up and then frozen solid and we couldn't really accomplish much in a gym, we would go down to South Park, which was about a half-mile or so from Halas Hall. It had tennis courts and jungle gyms and moms walking their babies and dogs sniffing around and all that stuff. But it had a lot of grass, and we could at least run our plays.

To get there you had to wind around through the neighborhood and make sure you didn't make a wrong turn and end up in Lake Michigan or Iowa. Guys would commandeer golf carts to get there, or a bunch would jump in the back of the equipment truck and ride along with their legs hanging out. Most everybody else swiped a bike from somewhere or just walked. I guess we should have used the sidewalks, but it was a sleepy suburban neighborhood, so the mighty Chicago Bears would come straggling down the middle of these neighborhood roads, carrying helmets, laughing and goofing around, headed to work.

Now it was January, though, and everything in Chicago was frozen like cement. South Park might as well have been a skating rink. So we went down to Suwanee and practiced before the Giants game, just to keep from freezing to death. That was fine.

Buddy and I were OK again. But the tension, I suppose, would never go away entirely. He was a very stubborn, proud man. And so am I. And he wanted to be a head coach. And why not? So be it. The ending could be what all of us wanted.

Excerpted from In Life, First You Kick Ass: Reflections on the 1985 Bears and Wisdom from Da Coach (2005, Sports Publishing L.L.C.) by Mike Ditka with the Sun-Times' Rick Telander. It can be found in bookstores everywhere. The hardcover book can be purchased directly from the publisher by calling (877) 424-BOOK (2665) in the continental United States or online at www.SportsPublishingLLC.com.