The first time I met Doug Atkins, about 10 years later, it was quite another story. I was the Operations Manager / DJ at an oldies radio station in Knoxville, Tennessee. He strolled into my office and everything was big about this man. His 6' 9" frame seemed taller than Larry's ... his 270 pounds were bigger ... his hand shaking mine was big ... but it was his aura that made him seem bigger than life. Of course, it could also be that I was 24 when I met Larry, but I was only 11 when I started idolizing Doug.
In 1965, my family moved from living in the shadow of the Notre Dame Golden Dome surrounded by Packer's fans to (notice I worked my way around to ever admitting I might have been one of those) to a rural town in Southern Indiana where everyone talked like Larry, and rooted for Da Bears. I was still undecided until the day the Bears drafted three guys in the first round ...the first two by the name of Butkus and Sayers. That was it, throw me in a vat of blue and orange paint, point my nose slightly west of north and I was a fan for life.
And while Gale Sayers went on that year and set rookie records almost on a game-by-game basis, and Butkus caught the imagination of every kid who played the game ... A larger-than-life man was dominating the defensive line. Not just in this game or that game ... but every game. And now, this monster was standing in the my office shaking my hand, and being, well, large.
Never in my life have I been around a man who was more comfortable in his own skin. He was very used to being large, and didn't care. And when he started talking, there was no slowing him down for an hour. Especially on his favorite topic: martinis. That man loved his martinis. And his favorite stories all involved martinis.
From Wikipedia: " Atkins began his playing career with the Cleveland Browns, but his peak years of his 17-year career came with the Chicago Bears. Atkins' first two seasons were played with the Browns before he was traded to the Bears in 1955. According to Pat Summerall on an NFL films segment about Browns' founder and head coach Paul Brown, Atkins was released by the Browns after belching in a meeting. In Chicago, Atkins quickly became the leader of a devastating defensive unit. With the Bears, Atkins was a First Team All-Pro selection in 1958, 1960, 1961, and 1963; along with being a starter in the Pro Bowl in eight of his last nine years with Chicago. Before the 1967 season, Atkins requested a trade from Chicago and was traded to the New Orleans Saints, with whom he would end his career in 1969."
From Doug's biography in the NFL hall of fame: "An All-NFL choice four times and a veteran of eight Pro Bowls, Atkins wound up his career with three successful seasons with the New Orleans Saints. For 17 years and 205 games, Doug wrecked absolute havoc on opposing linemen, quarterbacks, and ball carriers. Linemen who faced Atkins usually had just one thought in mind: “Don’t make him mad.” It was common knowledge among players that as tough as Doug was, he was even tougher when angered. An outspoken free spirit, Doug often clashed with the Bears’ fiery head coach George Halas. Atkins’ easy-going approach to practice particularly annoyed the coach."
Which brings me to my favorite Doug Atkins story ... one he told me every year we worked together for his annual golf tourney to help Lupus victims. And, forgive me Doug if I get any of this wrong, but it has been 20 years.
The Chicago Bears always held their training camp near a little town in central Indiana on the campus of St. Joseph's College. It was a dry county, the campus surrounded by cornfields, and miles and miles from any city big enough to find trouble. But knowing the situation he was living in for those 8 weeks a year, Doug ALWAYS came prepared ... with plenty of gin and vermouth and a case of olives. Along with his handy 9 mm that went everywhere with him, especially any stadium that might contain pigeons.
This particular training camp had several malcontents, including Mike Ditka, who was quoted as saying "That tight son-of-a-bitch throws nickles around like they were man-hole covers. " Of course, referring to George Halas, owner, head coach, GM and contract negotiator. Which prompted Doug to take a more forward and direct approach to re-negotiating his contract. A couple weeks after training camp opened, Doug and a few teammates were putting a serious dent in the gin stash. And Doug was drinking in proportion to his size. The more they drank, the madder they got over their contracts. The madder they got, the more determined Doug was to do something about it. So with all his friends egging him on, Doug storms out of the dormitory, after curfew, jumps into his car, and heads off to Chicago to have a "face-to-face with that SOB". He navigates through the cornfields, winds his way through the suburbs, and faces the traffic of the Big City to find himself on George Halas' doorstep. Still filled with rage, this behemoth man takes his massive fist and starts beating on hallas' front door, hard enough to nearly knock it off it's hinges. In no time at all, the front door opens, and to Doug's surprise, it wasn't George answering, but his wife.
"Well Doug, what brings you out on such a lovely evening?" she asked. Now Doug was raised as a Southern Gentleman, born in Tennessee, played in Tennessee, and never lost touch with those roots. So as politely as possible, Doug said: "'Scuse me Ms Halas, but may I please see that ... I am sorry for the time ma'am ... Is George here?" Seeing he was extremely angry and at some level beyond tipsy, Mrs. Halas invited Doug in, had him sit down, and then asked: "Why Doug, aren't you supposed to be at training camp?" "Yes ma'am." "And isn't it past curfew?" "Yes ma'am." "And wasn't Coach Halas at training camp with you today?" "Yes, ma'am." "Well then Doug, don't you suppose he's still there?" It was not until that exact moment that Doug realized he'd driven all the way to Chicago, while Hallas was sleeping quietly 3 doors down in the dorm. "Well Doug, I'll get you a raise right now. I won't tell George that you broke curfew, saving you a $250.00 fine. You can go tell your teammates you got a raise, and if you hurry, you can be back in bed before they find you're gone."
Again from the Pro Football hall of fame websight on Doug Atkins: "An outspoken free spirit, Doug often clashed with the Bears’ fiery head coach George Halas. Atkins’ easy-going approach to practice particularly annoyed the coach.
But still, the two developed a mutual respect. Although their relationship was at times tumultuous, it lasted for 12 seasons and Atkins was a key part of the great Bears defense that won the league championship in 1963. However, in 1967 Atkins demanded to be traded and Halas sent his star lineman to the Saints, where he finished his career. After Atkins finally retired following the 1969 season, Halas openly admitted, “There never was a better defensive end.”
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