Bob Thomas is running for office, but he is not running away from his roots. Like any place-kicker for the Bears, he checks to see how the wind is blowing and assumes it will change.
“What’s happening currently in the NFL is a microcosm of our more violent society,” he says. “You can only hope it’s cyclical. I grew up when we weren’t afraid to leave the doors of our house unlocked. Now, even in youth sports, you have to monitor conduct, and not just of the kids.”
Thomas knows. He is a Republican candidate in Tuesday’s election for the Illinois Supreme Court representing the 2nd Judicial District, but during his earlier post-football career he coached high school soccer.
One of his tenets is that parents attending games must act like adults, in body and real language. Gradually, he found that any father or mother who oversteps the code is merely stared down by a contemporary, a silent but effective peer pressure.
“In a way, that’s got to be the answer in professional sports,” Thomas says. “All the athletes who are making it onto the so-called `police blotter,’ you’ve got to get to their hearts. It’s like when somebody is smoking cigarettes and every other member of the family tells the smoker to quit. In the end, it’s still the smoker who has to do it.”
Thomas, a Notre Dame Academic All-American who joined the Bears in 1975, is worried about the game he still loves and the league he so respected. The NFL has been dubbed the National Felony League by some.
“I’ll tell you how drastically things have changed,” Thomas says. “Remember that long strike we had in 1982? If nothing else, it convinced us that football isn’t forever, that we had to prepare ourselves for when it’s over. During that time we had career counseling, because a lot of us without paychecks were worried about putting bread on the table for our wife and kids.
“At no time, though, no time, did we have counseling on what goes on now. Now it’s counseling on drug problems, spousal abuse, alcohol. And because the money is what it is, they don’t need to dwell on what to do after football. It’s about what you’re doing during football. Different.”
Thomas is mindful that two decades ago, the NBA’s image was tattered. The public was by no means hooked on pro basketball and what it represented. The NBA cleaned up its act and surged in popularity, though there is evidence it’s going in reverse.
“What might have happened in the ’80s is that the NBA realized it was in for economic hardship if it didn’t fix itself,” Thomas says. “Times are still good in the NFL, at least as far as money goes. I would hope it doesn’t take financial problems until the NFL does something, same as society must take a hard look before it’s too late.”
Thomas, a purist, signed for $27,000 and became the third-leading scorer in Bears history. He’d love to pull in $1 million or so that high-caliber kickers now reap. But, as a throwback, he’s convinced he played in a more joyful time.
“No matter how good or how bad the team was, you knew 90 percent of the players would be back the next year,” he says. “That created more a sense of family and loyalty. If you saw one of your teammates in trouble or straying, you knew him well enough to say something and be heard.
“With free agency now, guys don’t know each other that way, nor do the fans. Listen to what fans say at games. I got booed for missing field goals, but now some of the stuff you hear is nasty.”
Respect is down, accountability is out.
“As a judge the last few years, I’ve seen a lot of cases,” Thomas says. “We can’t sacrifice what is right in the name of tolerance, in society or in the NFL.”