When I first encountered Jim McMahon, I didn t especially

like him. I definitely felt the same way the second time, and

probably the third, too. I was, and still am, a sports columnist

for the Chicago Tribune. He was--and of course, is still very

much so--quarterback for the Chicago Bears.

The prospect of us collaborating on one interview--let alone

several interviews--for the purposes of producing the book

you now hold in your hands seemed remote. I am a member

of the media, and proud of it. McMahon is a member of the

sweat set, and proud of it. in case you haven t noticed, our

two professions have developed what politely might be de-

scribed as a growing adversarial relationship in recent years.

McMahon, not unlike many athletes, regards journalists

--print and electronic--with a certain degree of dismay, or

at least, distrust. What separates McMahon from many of

his contemporaries is that he is utterly unafraid of conveying

his feelings toward us. When he doesn t care to be on stage,

you might as well turn out the lights.