Bears

Tackling machine: Urlacher sets Bears record

231066.jpg

Tackling machine: Urlacher sets Bears record

Friday, Nov. 19, 2010
1:45 p.m.

By John Mullin
CSNChicago.com

Its official. The Bears confirmed to CSNChicago.com Friday that linebacker Brian Urlacher has passed Mike Singletary as the all-time leader in tackles with his performance in the 16-0 win over the Miami Dolphins. Urlacher needed 4 tackles to pass Samurai and was credited with 5 on the post-game stats sheet, with a few more usually turning up after coaches review of game tape.

Urlachers perspective? It means Lance Briggs is going to pass me in a couple years when I retire and he keeps playing, Urlacher said. Hes going to pass me. Records are meant to be broken. Its cool to have your name in the category; its in now with the guys whove played here and thats cool.

Clueless, anyone?
Not that they needed a whole lot of help from the Dolphins, but the Bears got little from some apparently brain-dead thinkers on the side of the Miami offense. Witness:

Miami quarterback Tyler Thigpen on why running backs Ronnie Brown and Ricky Williams, whove each destroyed the Bears in the teams previous two meetings, carried just a combined six times: We were playing from behind the entire time.

Thigpen came back a little later to recount the Dolphins halftime discussions: We were one score down. When youre down 6-0youve got to be happy. But evidently not happy enough to learn the lesson the Bears have learned since the off week: that running does matter.

Thigpens coach Tony Sparano defended the no-run approach: Listen, I mean, we only ran 48 plays. So it isnt about running the football. OK, Tony, but you note that the Bears converted 10 of 17 third downs, something Mike Martz acknowledges both supports and is supported by running the ball and avoiding third-and-longs. So oh, never mind.

It sounds like Jay Cutler is bored in retirement

It sounds like Jay Cutler is bored in retirement

After a week off the air, “Very Cavallari” was back with a new episode, which meant more Jay Cutler in retirement.

This week we were treated to Cutler being as sarcastic as ever and sulking about having nothing to do. Cutler’s first scene involved him and his wife, Kristin Cavallari, talking about their relationship and spending time with each other. Cavallari is going to do another pop-up shop for her fashion store, which means more travel. Jay, your thoughts?

“Oh, great,” Cutler said with his trademark sarcasm.

Later in the conversation we get a bleak look into Jay Cutler post-football.

“I just hang out and clean up,” Cutler said.

Sounds like he may want to hit up the announcing gig he had lined up before coming out of retirement and heading to the Dolphins for the 2017 season.

Next, we got Cutler shopping for birthday presents for their 3-year-old daughter. If nothing else, this was amusing to see Cutler shopping for gifts for little girls.

Watch the video above to see all of the best of Cutty, which also features him designing jewelry for some reason.

Recalling Chet Coppock – snapshots of a character, who also had character

coppock_obit.jpg
NBC Sports Chicago

Recalling Chet Coppock – snapshots of a character, who also had character

The news that came out Thursday, that Chet Coppock had died from injuries suffered in an automobile accident earlier this month in Florida, was sad on so many levels. That you didn’t have a chance to say “good-bye,” that you didn’t have a chance to say “thank you,” that you won’t have more of “those” kinds of Chet moments.

But one of my favorite movie moments is at the end of “The Last Samurai” when Tom Cruise, the wounded ex-U.S. soldier who’d fought with the Samurai, is asked by the young Japanese emperor about the death of Ken Watanabe’s Samurai character Katsumoto, “Tell me how he died.” To which Cruise says, “I will tell you, how he lived.”

Somehow that’s the feeling thinking about Chet – little fun snapshots of how he lived.

Snapshots like listening to Coppock on Sports, and appreciating that Chet deserves a spot in the pantheon of those who created a genre.

Like how we in the media laughed imitating Chet’s questions, which routinely went on long enough for you to run out for a sandwich and be back before he was finished. But the chuckle was how Chet wouldn’t directly ask a guest, “So why did you make THAT idiotic play?” No, Chester had this tack of, “So, what would you say to those who would say, ‘You’re an idiot?’” Of course, it would take a minimum of two minutes for him to wend his way through the question, but the results were always worth waiting for.

Like “Your dime, your dance floor.” 

Like grabbing lunches with Chet while I was working on the ’85 Bears book, but in particular while I was writing “100 Greatest Chicago Sports Arguments.” The specific in the latter told me a lot about Chet, far beyond just the information he was sharing.

The “argument” was over who was the greatest Chicago play-by-play broadcaster. Now, Chet of course suggested tongue-in-cheek that he belonged in the discussion; after all, as he pointed out, a high school kid at New Trier games, sitting by himself in the stands, doing play-by-play into a “microphone” that was one of those cardboard rollers from bathroom tissue, oughta be worth something.

Chet’s nomination for the actual No. 1 was Jack Brickhouse, the WGN legend who Chet noted had done play-by for every conceivable sport.

But the reason for Chet’s vote for Brickhouse wasn’t about any of that. It was, Chet said, because Brickhouse beginning back in the mid-‘50s, when the Cubs were integrating with Gene Baker and Ernie Banks, had very intentionally made it clear with his broadcasting and behavior that Baker and Banks were “Cubs,” not “black Cubs.” Brickhouse’s principles had left an impression on a then-young Chet.

I hadn’t known any of that. But Chet did, and that he had taken a lasting impression from what he’d heard growing up said something about Chet as well as Jack. That impressed me, and frankly has always been my favorite Chet story.

So losing an institution like Chet is sad; Chet did say that, no, he wasn’t an institution, but rather that he belonged IN one. But at least he came our way.