A Glimmer Of Hope

If you are a homeless person huddling on a Michigan Avenue sidewalk in downtown Chicago on a nippy fall night, there is no more heartwarming sight than that of a change-dispensing, cigar-smoking man with a bushy mustache. Last Saturday, as is his custom on the night preceding home games at Soldier Field, Bears coach Dave Wannstedt left the team's downtown hotel and led a small brigade of coaches and other staff members on an hourlong walk down the Windy City's most famous strip. "I've been doing that walk for five years," Wannstedt says, "and some of the street people have come to expect it. They're pretty much the only ones out there, and it's a nice way for me to unwind."

Wannstedt's fifth season as Chicago's coach has been an unmitigated disaster, and he may not be around to coach a sixth, but give him credit for staying the course. At the helm of a team with meager talent, Wannstedt has refrained from panicking and has worked hard to keep the Bears from unraveling. Shortly before embarking on his walk last Saturday, Wannstedt told his players that their opponent the next day, the Buccaneers, had ascended to the top of the NFC Central standings "by doing things the way we used to do them—running the ball, playing physical, not turning the ball over and not getting stupid penalties. If we do that, we can beat them."

On Sunday the Bears upended Tampa Bay, forcing a pair of first-quarter fumbles and holding on for a 13-7 win. With no turnovers, a blue-collar performance by halfback Raymont Harris (33 carries, 116 yards) and a bruising defensive effort that held the Bucs' backfield tandem of Mike Alstott and Warrick Dunn to a combined 22 yards rushing, Chicago (2-10) followed Wannstedt's formula to perfection. Well, almost. On their lone scoring drive late in the third quarter, Tampa Bay (8-4) was helped along by personal foul penalties on two Bears, middle linebacker Bryan Cox and strong safety Marty Carter. During the timeout after the conversion, the volatile Cox remained on the field and argued both calls with referee Bernie Kukar, who flagged him for unsportsmanlike conduct.

A more incendiary coach—Wannstedt's predecessor Mike Ditka, for example—would've given Cox a few dozen decibels worth of grief, as many Bears players did on the sideline. But Wannstedt calmly told Cox to cool out for a series, then sent him back into the game.

Some Bears have criticized Wannstedt privately for being beholden to a rigid routine, and he admits that many of his personnel decisions in recent years have been disastrous. "It's going to take time to build this thing up, and I'm all for that," says Wannstedt, whose power over roster moves was reduced by the off-season hiring of Mark Hatley as vice president of player personnel. "It goes against NFL precedent to rebuild after your fifth year, but I hope I get that chance."

Wannstedt, who began this year with a 32-32 career record, signed an extension after the 1995 season and is under contract through 2000. The Bears would be on the hook for a reported $3 million if they were to fire him after this season. Before the game against the Bucs, in an interview with WMAQ, the Bears' flagship station, team president Michael McCaskey gave Wannstedt a vote of confidence. It was the second time in the past four weeks that McCaskey had taken such a stand during a pregame interview, and maybe he's on to something. Chicago is 2-0 in those games.
—MICHAEL SILVER

Most Eligible Coach

There is a very good reason that in the last eight months George Seifert has gone fishing in Mexico, Costa Rica, Chile and New Zealand, vacationed in Italy and along the New England coast, and hunted deer in Wyoming and duck in Mexico. "I figured some opportunity might come up, so I'd better take advantage of my first season off in 32 years," Seifert said last week from his Bodega Bay, Calif., home.

Good idea. You can be sure every team with a coaching vacancy will ring his phone after the season. Despite his 108-35 record—the best in NFL history for coaches who have won at least 100 games—the 57-year-old Seifert was not so subtly shown the door by the 49ers in January after eight seasons, and two Super Bowl titles, in charge. He wants back in football, but only under the right circumstances. "It's kind of a zany time for me," he says. "It's the excitement of the unknown. I'm fully aware I could be anywhere next year, and it's a good possibility I'll be back in the game. I'm ready. I'm revitalized, energized."

It's safe to say Seifert would be at the top of the list in Baltimore, Dallas and Seattle if those teams change coaches, but Seifert says he has not been contacted by any club. He wants to clear up a couple of possible misconceptions. First, he's not a control freak, "and to say I'd need total control or have to be a coach-G.M. is just false." Also, he doesn't have to live on the West Coast. "It's a pretty small world, the kids are out of the house, and my wife and I are flexible," he says.