NFC CHAMPIONSHIP GAME : THE NAME NOW FITS . . . BIG BAD BEARS : That’s Bad as in 16-1 and <i> Not </i> Bad as in Awful, Which Some Once Were

SUWANEE, Ga. — For years, they were known in Chicago as the Big Bad Bears for other reasons, most having to do with their losing big and looking bad.

You wouldn’t know it now, of course. These Chicago Bears are the coolest.

They all wear crazy sunglasses, no matter where the sun is, and just love to take turns firing zingers at poor fools who dare call themselves opponents.

This week, Buddy Ryan, the team’s defensive coordinator, joined in the fun, promising publicly that Ram tailback Eric Dickerson would surely freeze up in Chicago and fumble at least three times during Sunday’s NFC title game.

Oh, the joy of being 16-1.

And, while you’ve got the chance, why not pull back a cleat and dropkick a down-on-its-luck franchise like Atlanta, whose Falcons graciously offered their practice facility this week to the frostbitten Bears.

“We’re very appreciative of the record the Falcons (2-14) had so that we might have the opportunity to use their facility,” one Bear player quipped.

No sir, 1-15 teams don’t get away with that stuff.

Life, though, hasn’t always been this good. Many of the Bears, statistically the youngest team in the NFC, may not remember a time when a grumbling Bear might walk off the field to the locker room-- during a game .

Running back Walter Payton, a Bear for 11 seasons, remembers. So does 11-year defensive end Mike Hartenstine.

And so does veteran All-Pro safety Gary Fencik, who has fit in quite famously in the Bears’ famous defense.

“Payton, Hartenstine and myself certainly look at this a bit differently,” Fencik said of the Bears’ shot at the Super Bowl. “Maybe we savor it more.”

Fencik just completed his 10th season with the Bears, and as the oldest defensive starter at age 31, led the team in tackles with 118. Like Payton and Hartenstine, he’s one of the old-timers.

He’s an Ivy Leaguer--a Yale graduate--who knows enough to realize that Super Bowl chances don’t come up often.

“Things have gone right for us this year,” Fencik said. “I hope this isn’t our last shot, but there is a sense of urgency.”

Who knows when the Bears again will go through a season injury-free?

No, Fencik would rather take care of business this year. He’s tired of sad endings.

In 10 seasons, Fencik has waded through three coaches and a tidal wave of mediocrity. In 1977, Fencik’s second season, the Bears made the playoffs under Coach Jack Pardee.

“I thought we were developing,” Fencik said. “Then our coach left in the middle of the night.”

The coach was sneaking out to take a similar job with the Washington Redskins.

The Bears hired Neill Armstrong, and Chicago climbed back into the playoffs in 1979, losing a wild-card game to Philadelphia.

Fencik could sense the walls of the organization crumbling. It didn’t help, either, that his own career was in tatters.

After the Philadelphia loss, Fencik was prepped for knee surgery on Christmas Eve, 1979. A few weeks later, doctors cut into his full-length leg cast so they could perform reconstructive surgery on his left ankle. Just to make it a clean sweep, Fencik earlier that season had broken his left arm.

“The left side of my body was shot,” he said.

Fencik eventually recovered, but the Bears didn’t. They went 7-9 in 1980, 6-10 in 1981 and 3-6 in the strike-shortened 1982 season.

“The early 1980s were pretty depressing,” Fencik said. “As much as I liked Neill Armstrong, we had guys walking off the field during games to the locker room. You just had to wonder--no, you didn’t even have to wonder. You knew we were going nowhere.”

There had to be an answer somewhere. Wasn’t there someone, someplace, who could pull the Bears out of the gutter?

There was. His name was Mike Ditka, who, when he walked face down and slumped his shoulders forward, kind of looked like a Bear. He came to Chicago in January 1981 and started mumbling something about the Super Bowl.

Now, understand in Chicago that super and bowl were two dirty words better left unsaid.

“I don’t think the Super Bowl was ever in their minds,” Fencik said of the Bears’ organization. “I know it was never mentioned to the players, so I know the team didn’t think it was a goal.”

But then came Ditka.

“He was the first person I’d ever met in the Bears’ organization who said his goal was to go to the Super Bowl,” Fencik said.

Fencik was impressed with the swiftness in which Ditka cleared out the dead weight. Before long, there was nobody sitting around on his potential.

Ditka had also discovered that the Bears were a team divided. With the ghost of Dick Butkus hanging overhead, the Bears had always been rough defensively, usually leading the league in dishing out bruises.

But defense, even socially, wanted little to do with the offense, long the cause of all their grief.

“Ditka brought our team together,” Fencik said. “Defensive guys used to buy lunch for each other, but all of a sudden, we had to buy for the whole team. It was just a little signal that this was a team, not an offense and a defense. The offense didn’t have any pride, and I didn’t blame them.”

For Fencik, football has become fun again. Here he is, a comparative old-timer, slapping hands with a bunch of kids.

Fencik has always had a reputation as a ferocious hitter but now he has to prove it every week to his teammates. And never has he had so much fun.

“I think the NFL should thank us for bringing the fun back into the NFL,” Fencik said. “We’ve got some characters, a bunch of goofy grapes and lemon limes.”

Bear Notes Coach Mike Ditka, in Thursday’s post-practice press conference, took offense at all questions regarding the Super Bowl. He kindly reminded reporters that the Bears were not yet in the Super Bowl. . . . Defensive tackle Steve McMichael did not practice Thursday after fluid accumulated in his knee. Ditka said it wasn’t serious. . . . OK, if the Bears do make it to the Super Bowl, they will move their training headquarters from here in Suwanee to the University of Illinois, which is equipped with a heat-controlled, bubble-topped practice facility. But that’s all Ditka’s saying about the Super Bowl. . . . Safety Gary Fencik said what scares him most about the Rams is their inconsistency. “It depends on what can of film I pull out whether I think they are good or not,” he said. “This is a funny team to figure out.” . . . Stupid question of the day was posed by a reporter who asked Ditka if he feared an option-pass by the Rams’ Eric Dickerson, who throws about as well as New York Giant Sean Landetta punts into the wind. “Someone give me a notebook,” Ditka quipped. “I’m going over to tell Buddy Ryan.”.