CHICAGO _ Pause long enough and the void becomes obvious, this pocket of the Halas Hall locker room where one of the Bears' most energetic and colorful players usually roamed but will no longer.
The nameplate is still in place above the wooden stall: "75 Long." Several pairs of shoes remain tucked away in the bottom drawer with an array of shirts hung on a metal rod. But make no mistake, Kyle Long's time here is finished, his playing days in Chicago over.
And now the Bears are doing what NFL teams have long been conditioned to do. They're moving on without blinking. Quickly.
"We can't look back," coach Matt Nagy said Monday. "We've got to go."
Next man up. Little time for reflection.
Just wheel the can to the curb and get on to the next chore on the checklist.
Eleven games remain on the Bears schedule, including Sunday's against the Saints. The offensive line needs new life. And Long's recent struggles, the Bears' top decision-makers concluded, were beyond repair.
Thus the end for the veteran lineman came a few days after the team returned from London, a surprise made official and permanent Monday when the organization placed Long on injured reserve. Again.
Formally, the Bears have classified Long's ailment as a hip problem. Per the team, it was never an acute injury tied to one specific moment. Just, in Nagy's words, "wear and tear." Season-ending wear and tear, it turns out.
Pair that with four shaky on-field performances this season, and the IR move became a logical escape hatch, the easiest route for making a change.
"For him," Nagy said, "and for where we were at, it was the best decision that we can make."
For Long, though, this also marked the end. The abrupt, unceremonious and cruel end.
Poof! All of it over just like that.
Inevitably, there is a permanence to this latest roster move, a lack of clarity on all that led up to it and uncertainty as to how much, if at all, Long will be around the team for the rest of this season.
For some, Long's sudden absence has left an uneasy feeling.
"He's going to be missed, man," right tackle Bobby Massie said.
Whatever the case, Long's star-crossed career is headed for the archives at Halas Hall, a seven-year file with a long list of highs and lows.
Seventy-seven games played, 35 games missed.
Flashes of elite production and incredible potential dimmed by serious physical setbacks, one after another after another.
Three consecutive Pro Bowl invitations followed by four consecutive seasons on IR.
One trip to the playoffs. One agonizing loss.
The honor this summer of being named in the Chicago Bears Centennial Scrapbook as the 74th-best player of the franchise's first 99 seasons.
Yet suddenly it's all history. Less than seven weeks from his 31st birthday, Long has been cast aside and left to figure out what's next while the team he poured his heart and soul into directs its energy toward more pressing business.
"Those (decisions) are never easy for any players," offensive line coach Harry Hiestand said Tuesday. "But I think they all know that it doesn't go on forever."
It all sounds so matter-of-fact, so callous, so pro football.
"It's not easy," Nagy said. "It's just part of it. It's just part of the process."
