Great Back Will Be Left Out Once Again

Walter Payton knew the truth. He had tilted at enough windmills to recognize a genuine dragon when he saw one.

He knew his team had been devoured in one large gulp.

He knew, too, that life isn’t fair and that this had been his one shot at a title game and that somehow he hadn’t measured up.

Elsewhere in the Chicago Bears’ locker room Sunday, there was the usual bravado known to large, young men who talked of how the Bears would be back and how this was a setback but not really a defeat.

Payton knew better.

The great running back limped slightly as he walked away from another season of violent collision, a season in which he had established himself as the NFL’s most productive runner.

Someone asked if he had been injured.

“I’m not hurt,” Payton said. “Not on the outside.”

San Francisco had smashed Payton’s Bears, 23-0, limiting them to 186 yards of offense. The 49ers go to the Super Bowl and the Bears go home.

The Bears had blustered their way into this NFC championship game--their first in more than 20 years--by talking big and hitting harder. The defense was ferocious, a throwback to the Bears’ glory days. But there was no throwing at all to the cloud-of-dust offense. Quarterback Steve Fuller was the last of six Bears to play the position this season and that was only because they couldn’t locate a seventh.

It is far from sure the Bears will ever be back. Payton wouldn’t say, but he knew.

“In 10 years this is the closest I’ve been,” Payton said, his voice a whisper. “And to get turned back is hard to deal with.”

Payton had rushed for 92 yards in 22 carries, accounting for more than half of the Bears’ offense. He had pounded as he always pounds. But this time, it had meant something. It meant everything.

“Walter is always so positive,” said safety Gary Fencik, Payton’s teammate for nine seasons. “He wanted it so much. This is much tougher on the older guys. Some of the younger players don’t understand how hard it is to get this far.”

The Bears were remarkably calm in the aftermath of the humiliating defeat. No more big talk. They had been thoroughly tamed. And there were no fingers being pointed, except at themselves.

The defensive players said it was their fault. The offensive players blamed themselves. You could say there was plenty of blame to go around.

“We weren’t very good, just average,” linebacker Al Harris said.

“Lord knows we weren’t great,” linebacker Mike Singletary said.

Singletary hadn’t expected much of the offense. The man had been paying attention. But he had figured the defense could provide the big play, the game-breaker.

“Any time a team scores more than 17 points, more than 14 points, we’re not playing good football,” Singletary said. “We needed something to play with--seven points, three points. I’m not saying the offense should get it for us. We should have gotten it ourselves.”

But the Bears, who led the NFL in defense and in sacks, rarely got to quarterback Joe Montana, sacking him three times and pressuring him only occasionally. The 49ers mixed up their offense, and they mixed up the Bears’ offense.

On their first possession, the Bears came close enough to miss a field goal. Some wanted to say it could have been a different game had the Bears scored a touchdown early. Sure, it might have been 23-7.

The play that summed up the game came with 33 seconds remaining in the first half. The Bears faced a third-and-19 from their 23-yard-line and called a timeout. Instead of going for the bomb, the call went to Payton, who was stopped for no gain. Even in the final minutes, when the Bears had to throw, they were throwing little dump passes to their backs. It was a conservative game plan that had no chance, just as the Bears had no chance.

Fuller, whose first two passes were dropped, completed 13 for 87 yards and was sacked 8 times for 50, accounting for 37 yards of passing offense. Even Payton was sacked once. Fuller got to know a lot of the 49ers well enough to invite them over to the house. Probably, they’d just knock down the front door.

Fuller would sit back in the pocket and wait and wait and wait--until he had company. If you’re looking for a place to hide, sign up as a Bears’ wide receiver.

“I take the blame,” Fuller said. “I held onto the ball too long. I couldn’t find people open down the field. I’m sure when I look at the films, I’ll see people open.

“We couldn’t do anything on first down. It was too much to ask your guys to keep protecting you on second-and-long and third-and-long. Our defense played well enough to win.”

Coach Mike Ditka wanted to apologize to the Chicago fans for his team’s play. But there was no reason. These Bears did not belong in the Super Bowl. San Francisco belongs. Miami belongs.

The Bears belong to a Chicago sports legacy of coming up short, of not winning the big one, of not winning that many of the little ones, of loyal fans who persevere.

In the space of the year the Cubs came close and the Bears came close. No apologies needed.

But what do you tell Walter Payton, the Ernie Banks of football?

Someone asked him how long it would take to get over the loss. He didn’t have to search for an answer. Payton knew.

“I’ll never get over this,” he said.

Never.