Mutka: Plank understands Bears’ disconnect

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Former Chicago Bear Doug Plank at the Gary Old Timers banquet at Avalon Manor in Hobart January 11, 2012. | Jeffrey D. Nicholls~Sun-Times Media

Updated: February 17, 2012 8:18AM

Interesting guy, that Doug Plank.

Give me another half-an-hour with the former Bears free safety and I’d have enough material for a book.

Unfortunately, Gary Old Timers hunting for autographs had first dibs so our interview (actually more like a conversation) was cut short at the 66th annual affair.

Unlike many former Bears, who have milked their Chicago roots since the 1985 Super Bowl, Plank didn’t linger after one of many injuries ended his eight-year stint with the Bears.

Some Super Bowl shufflers have complained of a disconnect between past and present Bears, something old Blackhawks like Bobby Hull griped about until new owner Rocky Wirtz corrected that oversight by bringing them back into the fold after his father, Bill, died in 2007. 

On the way into his Old Timers’ speaking engagement Plank couldn’t help but notice how much influence ‘Da Coach’ still has on Chicagoans even though he left the Bears after the 1992 season. Their careers briefly intertwined, Mike Ditka’s coaching career starting in 1982, Plank’s final season. 

Afterwards,  Plank chose a different career path, running Burger King franchises for 20 years. He started in Columbus, Ohio, where he played for Ohio State, then bounced from Phoenix, Az. to Kansas City. Football pulled him back in almost accidentally, thanks to Buddy Ryan.

While driving toward Tempe, Az. one day Plank heard that the former Bears’ defensive coordinator had been named coach of the Arizona Cardinals. Impulsively, he postponed business to congratulate him.

Just a few minutes into their mini-reunion, “No. 46” was offered a radio job to work for the Cardinals. When the season ended, a Phoenix station persuaded him to add  Arena football and the Pac-10 to his duties.

“So, now I’m a broadcaster,” he said. “It re-entered me into football. About five or six years later I ended up coaching in the Arena League, then with the Jets, the Falcons and ultimately Ohio State.”

Except for being reunited with Ryan in Arizona, Plank’s had limited involvement with the Bears since his playing days.  Looking at it objectively, he can sympathize with the current coaches and players, who are constantly reminded of the Super Bowl champs.

“That’s not unusual,” he said.  “It’s funny, but when I came to the Bears in 1975 what I heard about in Chicago was the last (NFL) championship,  ‘63. That’s the nature of the business. Until you do it again you’re going to hear about those teams year after year.”

Under Lovie Smith the Bears nearly established their own legend, but Payton Manning and the Colts foiled them, running Rex Grossman out of town in the process.

“I’m sure the current Bears are sick and tired of hearing about the 1985 team,” said Plank. “Sick and tired of having those players march around town, seeing them at different events.”

Guys like Dan Hampton and Ditka have exploited one magical year, turning it into a lifetime of leisure with a never-ending parade of endorsements and pop-ups. Some pols even suggested that Ditka could have been mayor of the Windy City if he had agreed to challenge Mayor Daley.

“Driving from the hotel by O’Hare for this (Old Timers) seeing Ditka’s name on billboards ... I guess he sells wine ... his restaurant,” Plank said. “Until somebody comes along and does it again you’re going to keep hearing about 1985.”

Old Timers still remember the Super Bowl shuffle and such players as Jim McMahon, the punky quarterback, and defensive tackle Steve McMichael, whose idea of relaxation was hunting rattlesnakes in Texas, where ‘Mongo’ once played.

Plank fell three years short of joining the Super Bowl celebration, but considers them the two most colorful characters he teamed with at any level. They were special because of their personalities as well as their talent

“I’m sure to some degree there’s probably  a lot of people associated with that ‘85 team who are saying ‘I hope this lasts for a long time because as long as that’s the case we’re going to have annual meetings, parties and golf outings.’ ”

Ultimately, though, the romanticized Bears failed to produce what should have been a three-to-five year dynasty. Some of the blame lies with Ditka and Ryan, who tortured themselves with clashing super-egos.

Ryan’s 46 defense is the stuff of legends, lionized by the NFL. His son, Rex, still runs variations of it with the Jets, where Plank spent the 2009 season as a defensive backfield coach.

“Rex is much more media savvy then his dad was,” said Plank. “He is much more comfortable, telling stories, something his father, more of a military mind,  would never do.”

Plank came to the Bears from Ohio State, where he earned three letters as a defensive back for Woody Hayes before being drafted in the 12th round. Ironically, the Buckeyes were his second choice. The Pennsylvania native was desperate enough to play for Joe Paterno who  bombarded him with weekly letters, but Paterno turned him down when they met in his senior year.

“A week later, Woody Hayes offered me a scholarship,” said Plank.

Now, he’s finding it difficult to explain the downfall of Jim Tressel, who was responsible for NCAA penalties, which included expunging the Buckeyes’ 2010 record and a postseason ban next year.

A  wide variety of grid experiences have taught Plank to view multiple college transgressions from what he calls “the big picture.” He praised Tressel’s coaching ability, but finds it difficult to strike a balance when assessing the damage.

Tressel’s positive contributions included goodwill programs, churches and centers, outreach programs and improving grade-point averages. It all evaporated with one mistake.

“Everyone is in this together,” Plank said. “The rules are laid out. You’re going to be held accountable at this high level of credibility. It doesn’t change my opinion of him. Who he was, his coaching, what he did for me ... I will always have respect for Jim Tressel.”

The same applies to Paterno, who  joins Tressel on the list of tarnished toppled icons. He’s a broken man whose good deeds have been erased by his failure to take a pro-active approach in the Jerry Sandusky scandal.

“It’s another example of how you can do things right for 20 or 30 years, but one thing can bring you down,” he said.

More like a half-century, protected by the insular environment he helped to create in the Big Ten’s farthest eastern outpost.

“It’s a sad state of affairs,” Plank agreed.

Paterno’s situation is a unique aberration, but how many more Tressels are out there, waiting to be uncovered? I wonder.