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-***** 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."
