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First, some background. Growing up in the mid-1990s and early 2000s, baseball and the Chicago Cubs were my universe. Listening to Pat Hughes and Ron Santo call games on WGN 720 AM used to be my favorite activity for years, and there really wasn't a close second. In fact, I didn't know much about football until middle school. I knew that the Chicago Bears were "my team", and I used to check their scores in the Monday editions of the Chicago Tribune during NFL season, but I didn't know who was on the roster, who their rivals were, or even many of the rules. But in 2001 (fifth grade), I noticed many of classmates donning navy blue jerseys with the number '54' written in big, white numbers. I also remember I couldn't pronounce the word "URLACHER" written on the back of them. People made fun of me for pronouncing "UR-LATCH-ER" and not knowing who this new hot shot was. And though my baseball knowledge was second to none, football was much more popular amongst my friends, and I knew I needed to catch up. So, I started watching and reading everything I could about football. Literally everything. And I caught up pretty quickly, if I do say so myself. So much so, in fact, that football eventually overtook baseball as my favorite sport. Soon enough, I was talking football with the best of 'em. And Urlacher quickly became my favorite player. His athleticism, speed, size, and playmaking ability are all well-documented, so I won't spend any time rehashing all of that. But it was easy as hell to see what made Urlacher so good.**********
Fast forward to September of 2006, my sophomore year of high school. It was a good time to be a Bears fan. They were coming off an 11-5 record the previous year, and an NFC North title. Yes, they lost convincingly at home in the Divisional Round to the Carolina Panthers in "The Steve Smith Game", but there were plenty of reasons to be optimistic. And by this time, I was engaging in great football discussions with friends and others on a daily basis -- a big turnaround in social status for me. The excitement surrounding the Bears going into the 2006 season was so thick, you could cut it with a knife and spread it on some Crostini (thanks to Californication for providing that line). Sure enough, the Bears started 5-0, winning by scores of 26-0, 34-7, 19-16, 37-6 and 40-7. Talk about domination of the highest degree. Each Monday morning, we'd show up quite giddy to class, gushing the phrase, "So, how about them Bears?", and quickly talking over one another about our favorite parts of every game. Then, Week 6 came along -- the Monday night matchup against Arizona. I went home that afternoon feeling pretty confident that the Bears would walk all over the, at the time, woeful Cardinals. And when the game started, the Bears, I, and I'm sure all of you, were punched in the gut by Matt Leinart (!) dissecting the vaunted Chicago defense and the Cardinals storming to a 20-0 halftime lead. When it comes to my favorite teams, I have never dealt with losing well. But when they're losing to teams they absolutely *should* beat? The blood pressure rises to levels that I'd rather not share. That's what was happening that Monday night. I thought maybe the momentum would shift a bit when Robbie Gould finally put Chicago on the scoreboard at 20-3. But when Arizona quickly responded to push the score back up to 23-3 in the third quarter, I was ready to turn the TV off and deal with my angry, sleepless night. But, resigned to the loss and feeling like I had nothing left to lose, I started doing what any normal 15 year old kid would do with his favorite team losing badly in a game they should win -- I started praying to anyone that would listen. Something along the lines of, "Please, oh please, let the Bears come back this one time. They can't lose like this. Not to the Cardinals. Not to the effing Cardinals!" And then a weird thing happened. Someone seemed to respond to my prayers. Mark Anderson strip-sacked Leinart, Mike Brown recovered, and it was 23-10 all of a sudden. A few series' later, that Urlacher guy ripped the ball out from Edgerrin James, Peanut Tillman scooped it up, and just like that, it was 23-17. The next series, The Return from Devin Hester gave the Bears a 24-23 lead that they wouldn't relinquish. Game, set, and match -- a 6-0 record was achieved. Out of nowhere, my sleepless night with high blood pressure turned into a sleepless night with off-the-charts adrenaline levels (the good kind). But here's what I realized: The performance Brian Urlacher put on during that game may be one of the most dominant single-game defensive efforts the league will ever see. He produced 19 tackles. Nineteen! He batted away two passes. He forced a fumble. And he hit Cardinals players with the type of force that would make Dick Butkus proud. Seriously, go re-watch the tape of that game. Some of the hits he put on were borderline criminal. They're ingrained in my memory forever. When I got to school next day, of course, everyone talked about Hester's magnificent return. But we also talked about Urlacher's ridiculousness. The utter lack of regard he showed for Arizona's welfare during that game was incredible. Everything you ever needed to know about Urlacher's capability was captured by his performance in that game. We will never forget it. A legendary performance in the truest sense of the word.**********
Of course, '54' provided countless highlight reel plays throughout his career. From the athletic interceptions to the receiving touchdown on a fake punt, he provided thrills and joy every time he stepped out on a football field. It's unfortunate that Urlacher's career ended the way that it did, but it's clear that Brian still holds the organization in high regard. He's a Bears fan for life, and we're fans of his for life. Urlacher's 1353 tackles, 12 forced fumbles, 16 fumbles recovered, 22 interceptions, 41.5 sacks, 91 passes defensed, and complete reinvention of the middle linebacker position in the NFL were rewarded by a first ballot Hall of Fame induction on Saturday night. A well-deserved honor for one of the best to ever don an NFL jersey. Congratulations, Brian. And thank you for everything.
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