Ryan Mullaney

This is long, but probably pretty entertaining for any football fans especially those who are in/from the Chicago, Cincinnati and LA geographic interests. So this morning at my 6 a.m. men's meeting in the church conference room I was asked, "When you played football who was the best player you ever played against?" I knew that answer instantly and every time I get asked. His name was/is Anthony Munoz and that was when he was with the Cincinnati Bengals (he finished with the Tampa Bay Buccaneers). I was a defensive end for the Chicago Bears. I was given the start for this game replacing Mike Hartenstine who was 1st team at my position and a great player. Both he and I were baffled why I was starting but it WAS our last preseason game in 1981 I believe. Playing right side defensive end I would be going against Anthony Munoz, the left side offensive tackle for the Bengals. I actually had never heard of him (the first round pick of the Bengals from USC picked two years previous). My teammates Hampton, Hartenstine and myself jumped into Hampton's big black Ford Bronco and headed to Soldier Field for our pregame routines. So Hampton started laughing while we were driving from our Lake Forest home field/locker room at the infamous "Halas Hall" to the Stadium for the game. We were getting close to the stadium. I was like, "What's so funny?" Both Hampton and Hartenstine started laughing even louder. Hampton was trying to talk while laughing with Mike at the same time. He said over his laugh, "Play him the tape...play the tape!!!" (yep it was a cassette player, state of the art then in 1982 that had recently replaced 8 track tape players). Hartenstine turns around and looks at me in the back seat and says, "This song is for you and what you are about experience in this game." He popped the tape into the player and it was cued up to a song that was turned up high and loud. It was Jim Morrison and "The Doors". So the first lines of the song boomed into my ears. "This is the end. Beautiful friend. This is the end my only friend the end... Of our elaborate plans the end, of everything that stands the end, no safety nor surprise the end. I'll never look into your eyes again". The laughter grew louder and Hampton pointed at me and screamed, "You are going to get your ASS KICKED today!" I responded, "F..k you guys. Thanks for the support." Hampton snapped, "Support. We can't help you. Neither one of us can drive an ambulance." They broke into uncontrollable laughter and just kept going until we got to the parking lot near our locker room at Soldier Field. I was dropping middle fingers on them. Fast forward, we (The Bears) Kicked Off to the Bengals to start the game. In the locker room I was angry and using it to mask my fear of what might be happening to me this fine Sunday August afternoon along the Chicago shoreline at this iconic stadium. I think I peed about 10 times in the locker room before we took the field. The stadium was a full house of fans screaming and cheering as we took the field. Chicago, no all of Illinois, loves the Bears. It is in their blood. So I was on the kickoff team and my knees were shaking as I stood on our forty yard line ready to cover the kick. I had never been more nervous in my life because I knew the Bengals were getting the ball first. Munoz and I were just a kick away from going head to head. The ball was set as the kick went to the opposite side of the field that I was covering on the kickoff. So one or a couple of my teammates covered the kick well and made the tackle pretty deep into the Bengals side of the field. The kicking team ran off. I stayed out on the field by myself watching our defense run on the field. Hampton looked at me and said, "Give him hell...everything you've got." That inspired me a bit as he was incredibly sincere. Kenny Anderson was the Bengals QB. I was expecting a run play first play. Munoz lined up in front of me and said, "Who the f..k are you?" I said, "You're about to find out." He started laughing and I saw he was missing at least three teeth on his upper bridge. His laugh was loud and nasty. (If you look at photos of him now, Munoz has a whole bridge of white, shiny teeth). Play 1 (Bengals ball). Ken Anderson, their starting QB, dropped back to pass. (My brain) "Hell yeah". Speed was my asset. I faked a step at Munoz like I was going to run into him and hit him. He set his feet and I went right around him and sacked Kenny Anderson. I was beaming with joy as I got up and turned to go back to the defensive side of the ball. Munoz was right in front of me, pissed off they just lost 7 yards. Dan Hampton slapped my back and looked at Munoz and said, "This is my boy Tony" and he laughed loud with a glowing stare at Munoz. As Hampton and I walked back to the line of scrimmage Hampton said, "Uh-oh. You pissed him off. He's coming for you." My victory faded fast. Play 2: Munoz came to the line smiling and chuckling. The Bengals ran the ball right at me behind Munoz who fired off the ball in a fury. He snapped both of his hands to the breastplate of my shoulder pads grabbing not only my shoulder pad's breastplate but also grabbed both of my pectoral muscles (chest muscles) and squeezed like vice grips. I ain't gonna lie. I little squirt of pea dampened my pants and left a spot. But it wasn't over. Munoz picked me up and my toes were barely touching the ground as he drove my lifeless body backwards. It was bad. He blocked rookie Mike Singletary with my full body's backside and continued to drive me back as Mike ran into and then tripped over me and fell to the ground. It gets worse. Munoz continued to block me straight into our safety Gary Fencik holding me up like a shield while the pain in my chest exploded. Thank God the Gary went down on the ground because Munoz and I tripped over him and I went to my back smacking the turf with the back of my head, my back and my butt. I was worried he would run me back all the way to the end zone. Munoz fell on me and slid across my body with his chest laying on my head/helmet. I couldn't move as I watched the Bengals running back run right past us... ...70 yards for a touchdown. My number on my jersey was #64. After the extra point I ran to the sideline. My coach, Buddy Ryan, was in the booth up high in the stadium. I was thankful he wasn't on the sideline...for a minute I was safe. However, our head coach, Neil Armstrong, walked over to me and said, "Buddy wants to speak to you on the phones." So I walked up to the telephone (no headphones worked in those days for coaches in the booth...they literally used telephones). The phone was ringing. I answered the phone: Hello! Buddy Ryan (screaming into the phone): "Who took a shit and put number 64 on it?" He hung up. Mike Hartenstine was standing right next to me and he said: "Welcome to the Bears. You better get your shit together pal. You're going back in."

TAA guys getting a full body workout.