Game Has Changed, So Have Players

News Item: Chicago Bears quarterback Mike Tomczak admits undergoing psychiatric treatment to “better be able to handle Coach Mike Ditka when he’s chewing me out on the sidelines--to learn to deal with it.”

We take you now to the players’ bench at a Chicago-New York Giants game in midseason. As we look in, the Bears have just lost 40 yards, a touchdown, the ball, their poise, and, probably, the game.

As we pan the sidelines, we see that Coach Mike Ditka has taken note of all this. He does not, however, have his usual look on his face, that of a guy eating glass, but instead the resigned air of a man who knew it was going to come to this. He speaks.

Ditka: Now, Michael, I don’t want you to take this amiss. We are just dialoguing here, trying to get at the root of the problem. Is it us, Michael? Now, take your time. Tell us, in your own words, what in hell--excuse me!--what exactly you had in mind on that last play. I mean, we try to be understanding here. We know nobody’s perfect.

On the other hand, you remember those neat little diagrams we drew on the blackboards this morning? You know, all those cute X’s and O’s and dotted lines? Was there something about them you didn’t approve of? If so, I’m sure we could have changed them. After all, that’s what we’re here for.

Tomczak: Wait a minute, Coach! I can’t deal with this. I mean, if you’re going to chew me out in front of all these people, I’ll have to have my analyst in here.

Ditka (soothingly): “Chew you out? Michael! Michael! No! No! We’re just trying to work things out.

On the matter of those little plays on the blackboard--well, they’re just suggestions. Whatever you don’t like, just throw out.

Now, Michael, down in one corner of the end zone, perhaps you noticed this fellow jumping up and down calling for the ball? That, it so happens, was one of our guys, our primary receiver, Michael. And he was wide open. But shucks! We all know there are subtleties. You perhaps saw something we didn’t? The wind currents weren’t correct, perhaps?

Tomczak: Wait a minute! I don’t have to take this! This smacks of on-the-job harassment. You’ll hear from my lawyer. I can’t be expected to hit every open man.

There are stresses to this job, and my shrink says they are management-caused. You’ve seen the ads. “Feeling hopeless or betrayed on the job?” “Injured at work--either emotionally or physically?” That’s me! What are you doing to me?

Ditka (hastily): Michael, Michael. We’re just trying to work things out here. See what’s troubling you. If there’s something about the job that doesn’t seem right to you, we’ll work it out.

Look at it this way: You only lost 40 yards. The ball. It can happen to anybody.

Now, Michael, try to think back. You remember in training camp we decided you had 3.5 seconds to get rid of the ball? I mean, that’s not written in stone. Circumstances alter cases. But Michael, 53 1/2 seconds is a tad long.

I mean, look at it from our point of view: You still had the ball after Lawrence Taylor got through chasing you. And if he’d taken a cab it would have cost $20.

Tomczak: I don’t have to take this! I’m a human being. Those crummy plays you sent in, the only people open were New York safety men. And you call that a line? I’d be better off behind turnstiles.

Why don’t you draw some pictures of blocks on your blackboard and show it to your linemen? They seem to think they’re ushers and the linebackers are members of the bride’s family. I want my shrink. Do you hear me?

Ditka: Hear you! Why, you lily-livered excuse for a football player, I ought to back up the truck and ship you back to Harvard. Or was it Vassar?

Where did you learn your football--in a Hasty Pudding show? You ought to show up wearing a tutu. The last thing as timid as you, Disney made a movie about.

Listen, you over-educated creep, we play man’s football here! This isn’t touch in the Harvard Yard with the Peabodys and Grizzy and Buzzie. If you’re that scared of Lawrence Taylor, why don’t you dress up in women’s clothes?

How can you lose 40 yards when you have first and goal on the 3! You make me sick. Take off that helmet! You’re no Chicago Bear! You’re a chorus boy!

Tomczak (smiling): Ah! That’s more like it! That, I can handle. Pour it on! And give me that play book! Let me at those Giants! We’ll kill them the next series of downs. And, even though I went to Ohio State, not Harvard, Mike, tell me again what a poor excuse for a quarterback I am. I love it when you get mad!