Jim McMahon Came Within 24 Hours Of Retiring The Year Before Super Bowl
The greatest decade of success for the Chicago Bears in Super Bowl-era history came during the 1980s. From 1984 through 1988, they had a winning season every year, reached three NFC championships, and won a Lombardi trophy. Most of the credit for those accomplishments goes to their history-making defense and consistently excellent ground attacks. However, almost all of the players during that era will say the same thing. None of it happens without the presence of Jim McMahon.
That was especially true in ’85. Everybody remembers the defense’s incredible playoff run with back-to-back shutouts and allowing only 10 points in the Super Bowl. They forget McMahon threw three touchdowns, ran for three more, and only turned it over once across those three games. He was the offensive catalyst of that run. There is no championship without him. What is startling to hear, even so many years later, is it almost didn’t happen. According to Dan Pompei of The Athletic, McMahon nearly saw his career end a year earlier in 1984, following a game against the Los Angeles Raiders.
McMahon, who played as if he were wearing a medieval suit of armor, ran for a first down against the Raiders, then kept running instead of sliding as two defenders approached. Then defensive tackle Bill Pickel put his helmet into McMahon’s lower back. McMahon stayed in the game but didn’t have the breath to keep calling plays. He was taken to the locker room, where his urine was the color of Concord grape juice.
At the hospital, he learned his kidney was torn in two places, with one part completely detached. He bled for three days and was hospitalized for 10. After a transfusion, he was told he needed surgery to remove the kidney. Knowing he couldn’t play football with one kidney, McMahon objected. He says he could feel it healing and asked doctors for one more night. By the morning, he says, it was reattached.
“The big man upstairs knew the Bears couldn’t ever win s— if I wasn’t there, so he gave me another chance,” McMahon says. “He’s the only one who could have done what happened to my kidney. They just don’t grow back that fast.”
Jim McMahon was reckless. He was also tough.
People always talk about the laundry list of injuries he had during his career. This is true. Sadly, it largely defines why he didn’t accomplish more in Chicago. Few argue that if he’d stayed healthier, the Bears would’ve won at least one more championship. That kidney injury was probably the worst, but he had loads of shoulder, ankle, and head ailments piled on top of it. Nobody would’ve blamed him if he chose to retire early. There wasn’t much left to accomplish by the end of the 1980s. He had his ring. He’d made lots of money through endorsement deals.
That was never the issue. Jim McMahon loved football and was also a competitor. His wild style of play wasn’t out of thrill-seeking. It was his way of trying to win games. The Bears always appreciated that, even if they didn’t like it. Everybody in that locker room knew McMahon risked injury when he took off running. Sacrificing multiple games for the sake of a few extra yards felt like a bad trade. Yet that is who the man was. Looking back, it’s best to be thankful Chicago had him for as long as they did.