”It`s not important to me what people know about me or think about me,” says Mike Ditka. ”It doesn`t bother me. They can think anything they want to. To thine own self be true.”
So much for the Mike Ditka that most people know.
At 52, Mike Ditka says he`s no different than anyone else. Except most of us don`t have a TV camera trained on us every day of fall and much of winter to catch every nuance of mood while professional second-guessers fire away.
That, of course, is part of the job of any NFL coach, including the Chicago Bears` Ditka. And just as when he was a player, Ditka is known for taking hits and delivering bigger ones.
But to understand this most illustrious of Lake County citizens, know first and foremost that he is competitive. As wife Diana said, if fly-swatting were a sport, he`d probably watch that on TV, too.
The people who feel that competitiveness the most nowadays probably are his players. After all, if they don`t throw straight or if they drop a ball in the end zone or if the man they were supposed to block is already pushing the puree button on the Bears` quarterback, they have just disappointed a very intense man.
”I don`t think a coach has to be liked by his players,” said Bears offensive lineman Mark Bortz. ”What`s important is that everyone respects him. If you look at all the great coaches in history, like the Shulas and the Lombardis, players didn`t necessarily like them, but they respected them.
”You can`t be best buddies with your coach, and generally most guys don`t hang around with him. Ditka`s very honest and to the point, even though he has flare-ups. At times, he is very human. He`s a great coach, and I respect him very much.”
If you are determined to believe Ditka is a jerk, fine, be his guest. According to those who know him, this man plays, lives and cares with intensity-of that he is guilty, dead to rights. But in a lukewarm world, hot or cold can be very refreshing.
He is a husband, father and doting grandfather. While he doesn`t wear his religion on his sleeve, he said he has strong convictions, reads the Scriptures every morning and attends mass faithfully every Sunday. He works hard, putting in 15 to 16 hours daily during the season and 8 hours a day in the off-times.
He lives in southeastern Lake County with Diana, a 48-year-old soulmate who shares his passions for golf, playing gin and sports. According to Diana, relaxation is an early evening curled up in front of the television with the Ditka dogs, Jake and George, watching sports, any sport, even ”American Gladiators.”
”Even if he wasn`t a sports person, I`m sure there are a lot of guys out there doing the same thing,” Diana said.
The Ditkas eat out once or twice a week at either the Bryn Mawr Avenue restaurant that bears their name or almost in anonymity at a friend`s restaurant, Nite `N Gale in Highwood. The rest of the time, Ditka might grill outside or Diana cooks. They have a cleaning lady come in once a week, but Diana does all the daily chores, laundry and dishes. Once in a while, she may ask Ditka to make a quick stop to pick up something at the local grocery store, although it can take longer when other shoppers recognize him.
”I really don`t go to places like I used to,” Ditka said. ”I don`t go out to the so-called `in` places in Chicago. That doesn`t mean a thing to me.”
What does mean something to him is football, obviously. In the last 32 years, he has etched a mark on professional football, first as a player, then as a coach, throwing him into celebrity status.
Former Dallas Cowboys coach Tom Landry tagged Ditka ”the greatest tight end that ever was.” Abe Gibron, former head coach of the Bears, contends that Ditka is ”by far the best coach the Bears have ever had.” In 1989, Ditka was inducted into the NFL Hall of Fame.
”Football has been very good to me,”` he said.
Much has been written about the ”Iron Mike” persona. Detractors have labeled Ditka obstinate, opinionated and irascible. Through the years, Ditka has clashed with those in the press who he says arbitrarily dissect both the game and the man play by play.
”The problem is these guys probably have never put a jockstrap on in their lives,” Ditka said. ”I respect people who dislike me and those who like me, as long as those likes and dislikes are based on fact, not fiction.” Ditka is a bit cynical about being in the limelight, saying that society manufactures heroes just to tear them down and that the media, in general, feeds on that negativity.
”Unless you know somebody and you`re around them, you don`t even begin to understand the depth of who they are and what they stand for,” Ditka said. Although he is straightforward and can be introspective, even philosophical, insiders say the general public does not know the inner core of this man, only his bigger-than-life reputation.
”He comes across like a bear, but he`s actually a pussycat,” said Virgil Ritacca, a Lake Forest resident who owns a construction company. Ritacca and wife Carolyn have been close friends with Mike and Diana Ditka for 10 years.
”When I read in the paper that people are putting him down, I say they don`t know him,” he said.
”Mike is blustery, emotional and very competitive, but I think a lot of it is a facade, part of a protective shell to keep people at arm`s length and to keep relationships on his own terms,” said longtime friend Jerry Vainisi, vice president of football management in the World League of American Football and former Bears general manager.
”Cut through that and you get to know him, which few have,” Vainisi said.
Perhaps his office at Halas Hall in Lake Forest shows the Ditka dichotomy more than anything. Memorabilia from the hard-hitting arena of football shares space with family photos. On the wall hangs a portrait of Ditka and the apple of his eye, 2-year-old granddaughter Lauren Ashley (daughter of Michael, Ditka`s eldest son from his first marriage, and his wife Debbie Jo).
”Mike`s very into being a grandfather,” said Amy Ditka, wife of Mark, Ditka`s second oldest.
When the family is over at Mike and Diana`s, it is not unusual to see Grandpa and Lauren sitting on the bed, watching television and sucking on Popsicles together.
Lauren is Ditka`s only grandchild, and she has him wrapped around her little finger, Ditka`s children said. Each week, Ditka buys Lauren a new book to read to her in a special section of his office, kid-outfitted with pint-size furniture. During team warm-ups on the practice field, Ditka can be seen carting Lauren through the maze of uniformed Bears players.
”I love Peep,” said Lauren, a name she calls her grandfather. Her parents surmise she saw Ditka in a commercial for Peak antifreeze and called him Peep. The name has stuck. In fact, Ditka had coordinating T-shirts made up, one for Lauren imprinted with ”The Peeper” and another for him with
”The Peep.”
”All you see is him on the sidelines; you don`t see him with his family, his being a grandfather,” said Ditka`s son Mike.
Ditka has four children: Michael, 30; Mark, 29; Megan, 27; and Matt, 25. All live in the Chicago area, and all except Matt are married. Keeping football in the family, Mark married Amy O`Bradovich, daughter of former Bears player Ed O`Bradovich.
The children have kept a low profile. As they see it, their father`s fame is his, and none of them wants to ride his coattails.
Ditka`s close circle of friends, both in and out of football, concur that the public`s perception of Mike Ditka is clouded.
”His friends are his friends,” said Al Di Santo. Di Santo and wife Ellen, Lake County residents, have been friends with the Ditkas for eight years.
His friends admit that Ditka is not an easy man to get to know. He is usually intense because there is a lot of pressure in his job, he doesn`t like chit-chat, is highly competitive, even in gin and golf, and doesn`t let anyone win. You`ve got to beat him. But Ditka, they said, has a tremendous sense of humor.
As friends, you know each other`s good and bad sides.
”If we have an argument, time passes, he shakes my hand. I say, I know, we`re only human,” Virgil Ritacca said.
”Mike is the kind of friend that I could pick up the phone. He wouldn`t ask what`s the problem but do you need me, and he`d be there. That`s Mike Ditka to me,” said Paul Tamraz, owner of Motor Werks in Barrington.
In 1990, when Marvin Fiocchi, owner of the Nite `N Gale Restaurant in Highwood, was confined to a hospital for four months waiting for a heart donor, Ditka would visit or call his close friend.
”He kept my spirits up. Spiritually and emotionally, Mike has a good outlook. When I was down a lot of times, Mike sensed that he was needed,”
Fiocchi said.
In fact, Ditka was instrumental in coordinating a fundraiser in the fall of 1990 at the Knoll Wood Country Club in Lake Forest for his sick friend`s escalating hospital bills. Then last year, at Fiocchi`s request, Mike did a commercial gratis for the Illinois Heart Donors Association, saying, ”as long it`s for a good cause and it`s for you.”
”I really love that guy. Mike has a heart second to none,” Fiocchi said. ”People don`t realize he`s very caring.”
You`ll get no argument on that count from Sister Rosemary Connelly, administrative director of Misericordia Heart of Mercy, a children`s and young adults home in Chicago.
Ten years ago, Mike Ditka came to the facility, ”saw our spirit and felt much,” said Sister Rosemary. Today he is a spokesman for the organization as well as a frequent visitor. The Mike Ditka Foundation and Ditka himself are important benefactors.
”Mike Ditka comes to Misericordia whenever we need him. He loves, reaches out and genuinely cares about our young people,” she said.
Last month Ditka made an impromptu stop at Misericordia just to thank the young people for all their prayers and support during his recent hip surgery, according to Sister Rosemary.
”He`s a hugger. He may appear gruff, but I think that`s the side he shows to the press. When he`s with my friends and myself, he`s not that way ever,” said Michelle Minelli, a Misericordia resident.
”Mike Ditka is so real, he interacts with our young people, remembering their names, asking them their concerns and what`s going on in their lives,” Sister Rosemary said. ”Mike Ditka is a man of faith. He knows that he`s been blessed by God in a way that it is his moral responsibility to give back.”
Ditka`s foundation raises about $250,000 a year for children`s needs, but his philanthropy doesn`t stop there. He has been an active trustee of the Fellowship of Christian Athletes since 1986. The fellowship is a Christ-centered, Bible-based, athletics-focused interdenominational ministry.
Despite his relentless schedule, Ditka speaks several times a year on behalf of the FCA around the country.
”He`s very honest about who he is and where he is in his faith. He`s never been afraid to say he struggles with his competitive side or his intensity,” said Dale Craft, area director for the Chicago Chapter of the FCA.
”I don`t believe that we can accomplish anything in life by ourselves because there`s a game plan for everyone`s life,” Ditka said. ”We are just a small, small thing in this whole big puzzle. We are here for a moment in time, and what we do with that moment in time is really going to determine what our eternity is like. I really believe that.”
Ditka was born on Oct. 18, 1939, in Carnegie, Pa., the oldest of four children born to Charlotte and Mike Ditka. When Ditka was 4, the family moved to a modest townhouse (where Charlotte and Mike still live) in Aliquippa, Pa. Ditka`s heritage is Ukrainian, some Polish on his father`s side and Irish-German and some English on his mother`s side.
”I remember everything about my childhood,” Ditka said. ”Everything was sports. I`d go early in the morning and return late at night, playing every sport there was, whatever was in season-football, baseball,
basketball.”
His father was a former Marine and a stern disciplinarian who worked on the railroad that serviced a steel mill, the J&L Plant, while his mother stayed home to raise the children.
”He has never forgotten his mother and father,” Charlotte Ditka said.
”He never calls that he doesn`t tell us he loves us.” Charlotte and Mike Ditka can be seen in the audience at every Bears home game.
Ditka was an altar boy through high school, said Charlotte, and even had aspirations of becoming a priest, but that idea was abandoned when he realized there was no football in the seminary.
”Mike always hated to lose, with a passion. He couldn`t stand anyone not giving 100 percent,” Ditka`s father said.
And that was especially true for his younger brother Ashton. The boys were only a year and a half apart, and Ditka strived to mold his brother.
If Ashton dropped a ball in a baseball game, Ditka would chase him down and often have a rather physical discussion about what possibly could have been going through Ashton`s mind, the brother said.
”Mike was always intense and competitive. For Mike and I, sports was a way of getting out of Aliquippa,” said Ashton, senior vice president of marketing for United Refining in Warren, Pa. (Ashton graduated from Bucknell in Lewisburg, Pa., on a football scholarship.)
After graduating from Aliquippa High School, Mike Ditka entered the pre-dental program at the University of Pittsburgh, also on a football
scholarship.
”Going through college I had a lot of problems with chemistry. When I had the opportunity to play pro ball (as the Bears` No. 1 draft choice in 1961), I thought it would be a hell of a lot easier than worrying about studying chemistry,” Ditka said. (Even before the Bears, Ditka was offered a contract to play professional baseball as a catcher for the Cincinnati Reds, which he turned down, according to Charlotte Ditka.)
”Mike Ditka was (once) the hell-raiser of the NFL, on and off the field,” said Howard Hendricks of Dallas Theological Studies and chaplain during Ditka`s years with the Dallas Cowboys as a player and assistant coach. ”I saw a dramatic change in Mike`s life. Coach Landry had a great influence on Mike.”
”Mike really changed with us,” Landry said. ”When his life changed, his priorities changed. As a Christian, it`s God, family and football.”
Ditka had his childhood heroes, such as Stan ”The Man” Musial, first baseman for the St. Louis Cardinals. Over the years that admiration has become mutual.
”We`re both guys from Pennsylvania,” Musial said. ”You never know who your great fans are. I met him when he was a coach,” he said, adding that they both understand that ”to be successful, you have to set a good example, nothing comes easy, and you must work hard and dedicate yourself to the sport you`re playing.”
Ditka credits his high school coach, the late Carl Aschman, as his early mentor, saying Ditka knew where Aschman was coming from, he was a great motivator, disciplinarian, no-nonsense kind of guy who knew what it took to win.
”You learn to take out of people`s lives what you like, what you see as positive, learn from it,” Ditka said. ”I look at people, and I say I like this or I like that. These are the things I`ve tried to do over the years.”
Mike Ditka is a nationally recognized motivational speaker, who introduced former Dallas Cowboys teammate Roger Staubach at an FCA meeting in Chicago recently.
”Mike really cares about people and gives a lot back,” Staubach said.
Describing Ditka as a man`s man, longtime friend Dan Reeves, head coach of the Denver Broncos, said, ”He`s tough, but he`s also gentle. We`ve cried and we`ve laughed together. Mike is one of the most caring people. I have never seen Mike Ditka refuse an autograph. I admire him because he`ll tell you exactly what he thinks up front.”
Despite the professional accolades and personal tributes, the public image can be a fragile thing. Such is the case in the recent bankruptcy of the restaurant Ditka`s City Lights on Ontario Street in Chicago. While Ditka`s name may have been over the door, those closest to him say he did not have a hand in its demise.
”People don`t understand Mike doesn`t run the place. He (only) went there to promote,” Diana said.
Whether the public or the media take potshots at Ditka for doing commercials (something he does off-season, takes three hours per commercial, and he won`t pitch a product he doesn`t believe in) or critiques his coaching style, Ditka said he does it his way.
”As the song by Frank Sinatra goes, `I have had regrets, too few to mention. I did it my way.` Whether it`s right, wrong or otherwise, that`s all you can do in your life,” Ditka sais. ”Better do it your way because in the end, when they get rid of your butt, better make sure you were doing it your way.”
Ditka said he has never worried about job security from Day 1 and that, although he appreciates the opportunities provided by the Bears organization for all these years, he would never want to be anywhere he wasn`t wanted.
”Would I coach somewhere else? The only thing that would motivate me is to prove people wrong,” Ditka said.”I`m not saying that everything I say is right, but I say everything I say I believe.
”… In the end, when you wake up in the morning, you have to ask yourself, do I believe in the person I see in the mirror?”
