Bears general manager Ryan Pace told Mitch Trubisky to pick a restaurant and make a reservation. Pace wanted his dinner with the then-North Carolina quarterback in March 2017 to stay under the radar.
When Trubisky booked a table at Bin 54, a steakhouse in Chapel Hill, he used an alias: James McMahon.
‘‘The last Super Bowl[-winning] quarterback of the Chicago Bears,’’ Trubisky said.
On Friday, Trubisky finally got to meet McMahon at the Bears 100 Celebration Weekend at the Donald E. Stephens Convention Center in Rosemont. Amazingly, it was a confab of the Bears’ two most recent Pro Bowl quarterbacks — Trubisky as an alternate last season and McMahon in 1985. Jay Cutler, who didn’t attend the convention, never made a Pro Bowl with the Bears.
Trubisky’s legacy could be indelible, McMahon said.
‘‘All he has to do is play hard here,’’ McMahon said Friday. ‘‘If he plays hard, people understand that. They’re very knowledgeable fans. They’ll love him if he plays hard.
‘‘And if he plays hard and wins, they’ll love him forever.’’
Before the two participated in the first roundtable discussion of the weekend Saturday, the ‘‘Punky QB’’ made sure Trubisky’s transition to ‘‘James McMahon’’ was complete. After the two sat down on the stage of the main hall, McMahon presented Trubisky with a pair of black sunglasses and a white headband. It was blank, however. No ‘‘Rozelle’’ in sight.
Headbands are in again. pic.twitter.com/sS0PBStvC4
— Chicago Bears (@ChicagoBears) June 8, 2019
‘‘Now you’re ready to go, kid,’’ McMahon said.
Trubisky loved it.
‘‘Step 1,’’ he said.
That led to one surreal exchange: Trubisky, dressed as McMahon, teasing a fan in a Mike Ditka costume.
McMahon bemoaned the Bears’ run-first offense upon his arrival, and Trubisky accurately compared it to John Fox’s final season. As Trubisky spoke about McMahon, a fan dressed like Ditka passed in front of the stage.
‘‘Coach Ditka, what’s up? How you doing?’’ Trubisky said. ‘‘You should have let Jim throw the ball more.’’
McMahon laughed.
‘‘Damn right,’’ he said.
McMahon sounded jealous of coach Matt Nagy’s scheme.
‘‘[Trubisky has] got a great offense to play in, from the little bit that I’ve seen,’’ McMahon said Friday. ‘‘That’s the kind of offense I would like to play in. I know coach Nagy came from the Chiefs with Andy Reid, and Andy Reid was my tackle [at BYU]. So I’ve known him forever.’’
McMahon’s advice to Trubisky?
‘‘Get rid of the ball,’’ he said. ‘‘First guy open gets the ball. Don’t try to predetermine anything. The play may be designed for somebody else, but if there’s a guy open, get it to him. It takes a lot of heat off your offensive linemen, and you save yourself some hits, too.’’
McMahon has been outspoken about his struggles with depression, dementia and headaches as a result of those hits. Every two or three months, a doctor in New York realigns his neck. McMahon thinks the adjustments drain fluid that builds up in his brain. Eventually, he said, he’ll have a shunt installed to save him the trips out there.
‘‘It’s a pain in the ass getting to New York, but it’s better than blowing my head off,’’ McMahon said.
The NFL’s concussion problem ‘‘is not that hard to figure out,’’ he said.
‘‘But whether or not the league will do [something about] it now that [commissioner Roger] Goodell has his $50 million . . . ,’’ he said. ‘‘He doesn’t care.’’
Maybe McMahon can write Goodell’s name on his headband.
‘‘This is a violent game; people are going to get hurt,’’ McMahon said. ‘‘But make sure they get diagnosed properly. That’s all they’ve got to do.’’
Contributing: Madeline Kenney
