MITCH TRUBISKY Grows Up
THERE’S A MISCOMMUNICATION ON the route. The receiver is supposed to stop and face the quarterback, but he keeps running and the ball hits him on the side. The pass was a light toss — a real lollipop — but it lands with a smack. The wideout twists his face into a grimace, and the crowd holds its collective breath. Oh no, is he about to cry?
Chicago Bears quarterback Mitch Trubisky has been throwing passes for much of the morning with varying success. In his defense, the receivers have been all over the place. In their defense, they are children.
Trubisky is at Pilsen’s Harrison Park for Go Play Day, which isn’t a charity event per se but rather a branded Nike promotion encouraging kids to stay active. Trubisky is the center of attention. It’s hard for him not to be. He’s a massive dude, thick as a tractor tire and broad enough to shade a huddle of children from the mid-July sun.
The last time Chicago saw Trubisky was January’s wild-card game against the Eagles, when the second-year quarterback led the Bears into field goal range with a miraculous last-minute drive. Well, nearly miraculous. The infamous “double-doink” kick ended the team’s season, but the playoff beard Trubisky started growing remains. The effect is striking in an Amish sort of way. It’s as if he spent Rumspringa lifting weights and drinking protein shakes.
Trubisky is pushed and pulled around Harrison Park from the time he gets there. A burly Bears security official does his best to keep people away, but the pocket is easily breached and the quarterback is beset by requests for autographs and selfies. Trubisky obliges, remaining unflinchingly polite; I think I even hear him call a young teen “sir.” Meanwhile, two police officers are brought in to clear space around him — whoops, now they’re asking to take a photo, too.
The kids have been as patient and polite as Trubisky, though the same can’t be said for all of the adults. “He could sign autographs for everyone,” an exasperated man holding a football says to two children. “It would only take him 10 minutes.” The man paces around and returns to the kids.
