Players could remember Payton in powerful way

Somehow, it's already been 10 years since Walter Payton's passing.

Stunning.

But the number that has me truly shocked is the 25 years that have rushed by since Payton was in his prime.

And it makes you wonder.

Makes you wonder about today's NFL players who weren't watching when Payton was still in uniform, and most of them, like Matt Forte - born in December 1985 - weren't around when Payton was at his very best.

Simply put - if you never got to see him run - Payton was the greatest combination of desire and power ever poured into one running back.

"When God wanted to create a running back, he made Walter Payton," Mike Ditka once said. "But Walter was much more than a running back. He was probably the most complete football player ever to set foot on a field.

"He was the best runner on the team, the best blocker and the best pass catcher. But he could also kick field goals and punt and throw it farther than any quarterback we ever had.

"Walter was the best football player I ever saw. He was also the toughest man I ever met."

Those who saw him play don't need that reminder, but what about those who didn't?

I wonder what today's players might take from watching him.

If they could see only three clips, we offer as evidence from 1977 "the Kansas City run," from 1985 the block in Minnesota that saved Jim McMahon from a blitzing linebacker, and from the 1987 playoffs, Payton sitting alone on the bench after the final game of his career.

If you've seen them, no explanation is necessary. If you haven't, find them.

The visuals speak for themselves, and I have to believe there's value in it for today's NFL.

We too often want our athletes to remind us of a previous time, as we delude ourselves into thinking life was simpler, better, or maybe more romantic.

It's both futile and Pollyanna, and also not my point.

But I wonder, if Lovie Smith asked his players to watch just a few highlights of Payton, might they be inspired by how the man attacked every moment of a football game, of a practice, of an off-season run up a hill?

Is it possible to be unaffected by the huge chip on his shoulder, by Payton's overwhelming drive on each play, to overcome his size, to overachieve for so long a time despite the odds stacked against him?

I think players would be shocked by what they see, because most of them have never seen anything like it.

They might not know that he played most of his career - certainly the best Sundays of his career - behind dreadful offensive lines, that he had to break tackles just to get to the line of scrimmage, and that while being the only player on horrific offensive teams, he took the beatings and showed up every down.

"He was a marked man and he still gained 100 yards," said Hall of Famer Dick Butkus. "He took a lot of punishment to do that, but he got up and took the ball again."

On every series. Of every half. Of every week. Of every season.

"All the glory, all the yards and all the touchdowns don't mean a thing," Payton once said. "I played every down and I never took a rest. That's how I want to be remembered."

You'll forgive me for laughing when I hear teams talk about limiting running back carries or fears of shortening seasons and careers.

During his 13-year career, over a 10-year span of non-strike seasons, Payton averaged 335 carries per season.

Last year, Matt Forte combined for 379 rushes/receptions, and the Bears talk about the 23-year-old as though he's going to retire from football if he has to so much as break a sweat again.

Payton averaged 375 carries/catches over those 10 years, and likely could have gone on interminably if the Bears hadn't taken the football away from him.

Today, a year or two like that and you never hear from a running back again.

This is not a criticism of Forte or Smith or anyone else in the NFL.

My point is merely that there will be hundreds of tributes paid to Payton over the next few weeks as we approach the anniversary of his death.

The Bears play on Nov. 1, at home against Cleveland, and no doubt there will be a moment before the game to remember Sweetness.

But the best memorial would be to take inspiration from the way Payton played, from the effort he promised, from his class and dignity, from the very life he gave to the game and to the fans.

That kind of dedication in his name would be something that warms us on a cold Sunday, on a day when sadness for his children fills the heart and memory serves mostly to bring back pain.

However, if for one Sunday, or maybe a season, we witnessed a level of desire and heart on the field befitting No. 34, there could never be a more fitting monument to Walter Payton.

That, more than any marble and granite, would stand forever.

brozner@dailyherald.com