The Iron Man’s Final Battle: Steve “Mongo” McMichael’s Inspiring Journey Through Glory and Adversity
A life of extraordinary courage both on and off the field
The world of sports lost a true warrior on April 23, 2025. A man whose presence on the football field struck fear into opponents, whose charisma captivated fans across generations, and whose courage in the face of a devastating disease inspired millions. This is the story of Steve “Mongo” McMichael—a tale of triumph, resilience, and unwavering strength that reveals the true character of one of football’s most iconic figures.
The Call That Changed Everything
It was an ordinary spring afternoon when the phone rang at Chicago sports radio station WSCR. The host’s voice faltered as he delivered the news that would soon ripple through the sports world: Steve McMichael, the beloved Chicago Bears legend, had been admitted to hospice care. His condition, the host explained, had deteriorated significantly in recent days.
For those who had followed McMichael’s journey over the past few years, the news was devastating but not entirely unexpected. The football icon had been waging a fierce battle against amyotrophic lateral sclerosis (ALS), commonly known as Lou Gehrig’s disease, for nearly four years. Still, the finality that hospice care suggested sent shockwaves through the Bears community and beyond.
Just hours after that initial report, a somber update confirmed what many had feared: Steve “Mongo” McMichael had passed away at the age of 67, surrounded by his loved ones. The man who had seemed indestructible during his playing days had finally succumbed to an opponent that not even his legendary toughness could overcome.
But to understand the profound impact of this loss—and the remarkable legacy McMichael leaves behind—we must travel back in time to explore the journey that led him from the Texas plains to Chicago immortality, and ultimately, to his final battle with ALS.
From Texas to the NFL: The Making of a Legend
Long before he became a household name in Chicago, Steve McMichael was making a name for himself in Texas. Born on October 17, 1957, in Houston, McMichael’s early life was shaped by Texas values—hard work, determination, and an uncompromising spirit. These qualities would become the foundation of both his football career and his approach to life’s challenges.
McMichael’s formative years were spent in Freer, a small town where football wasn’t just a sport but a way of life. It was here that he first demonstrated the natural athletic ability and fierce competitiveness that would later define his professional career. By his high school years, it was clear to anyone who watched him play that McMichael was destined for bigger stages.
His talents earned him a scholarship to the University of Texas, where he quickly established himself as one of the most dominant defensive players in college football. As a Longhorn, McMichael’s combination of strength, agility, and football IQ set him apart from his peers. He was a two-time All-American and was inducted into the University of Texas Hall of Honor in 2010, a testament to his lasting impact on the program.
“Steve was always different,” recalls former Texas teammate Johnny “Lam” Jones. “Most guys that big aren’t supposed to move that fast. But Steve could do it all. And he played with this fire that you couldn’t teach. You either had it or you didn’t—and boy, did he have it.”
Despite his college success, McMichael’s path to the NFL wasn’t without obstacles. He was selected by the New England Patriots in the third round of the 1980 NFL Draft but played just one season with the team before being released. This early setback might have derailed a lesser man’s career, but for McMichael, it was merely a detour on the road to greatness.
In 1981, the Chicago Bears signed McMichael—a decision that would profoundly impact both the player and the franchise for decades to come. It was in Chicago that “Mongo” (a nickname inspired by the character from the film “Blazing Saddles”) would truly find his home and build his legacy.
The Heart of the Monsters of the Midway
When football historians discuss the greatest defenses of all time, the conversation inevitably turns to the 1985 Chicago Bears. This legendary unit, known as the “Monsters of the Midway,” redefined defensive excellence in the NFL, and Steve McMichael was at its very core.
Playing alongside fellow defensive linemen Richard Dent, Dan Hampton, and William “The Refrigerator” Perry, McMichael helped form what many consider the most fearsome front four in NFL history. While others on that defense may have received more headlines—the flamboyant Perry, the sack specialist Dent, or the charismatic linebacker Mike Singletary—it was McMichael who provided the unit’s heartbeat.
“Steve was our anchor,” reflects former Bears coach Mike Ditka. “You could always count on Mongo to be in the right place, making the right play. He wasn’t always the guy getting the glory, but he was always the guy doing the dirty work that made everyone else look good.”
That 1985 season culminated in one of the most dominant Super Bowl performances ever, with the Bears crushing the New England Patriots 46-10 in Super Bowl XX. McMichael’s contributions were essential, as the Bears defense held the Patriots to just seven rushing yards—still a Super Bowl record. It was the pinnacle of team achievement for McMichael, but far from the end of his individual excellence.
Throughout his 13 seasons with the Bears (1981-1993), McMichael established himself as one of the most durable and consistent players in franchise history. He appeared in 191 consecutive games—a Bears record that still stands today and earned him the nickname “Iron Mike.” During this remarkable stretch, McMichael accumulated 92.5 sacks, second in Bears history only to Richard Dent.
His statistical achievements tell only part of the story, however. It was McMichael’s leadership, toughness, and intelligence on the field that truly set him apart. Teammates often spoke of his ability to diagnose plays before they developed, a skill that made him seem almost psychic at times.
“Steve knew what play was coming before the quarterback did sometimes,” says former Bears safety Dave Duerson. “He had this uncanny ability to read offenses. He’d be telling us what was coming while the other team was still in the huddle.”
McMichael’s career achievements earned him two Pro Bowl selections and first-team All-Pro honors in 1985 and 1987. After his time with the Bears, he played one final NFL season with the Green Bay Packers in 1994—a move that initially shocked Bears fans but did little to diminish their affection for the player who had given so much to their franchise.
Beyond the Gridiron: McMichael’s Second Act
For many professional athletes, the transition to post-playing life proves challenging. The structure, purpose, and adulation that define their careers suddenly disappear, leaving a void that can be difficult to fill. McMichael, however, approached this new chapter with the same enthusiasm and versatility that characterized his play on the field.
After retiring from the NFL, McMichael embarked on several new ventures. Perhaps most notably, he entered the world of professional wrestling, joining World Championship Wrestling (WCW) in 1995. As a member of the legendary “Four Horsemen” stable alongside Ric Flair, McMichael embraced this new competitive arena with characteristic gusto.
“Wrestling was perfect for Steve,” explains former WCW announcer Tony Schiavone. “He already had the personality, the physical presence, and the ability to connect with a crowd. He was a natural entertainer who understood what fans wanted to see.”
While his wrestling career was relatively brief, it further cemented McMichael’s status as a larger-than-life figure in Chicago sports culture. At the same time, he maintained his connection to football through broadcasting, serving as a commentator for Bears games and making regular appearances on sports radio where his unfiltered opinions and colorful personality made him a fan favorite.
McMichael also dipped his toe into politics, running for mayor of Romeoville, Illinois, in 2013. Though unsuccessful, the campaign highlighted his deep connection to the Chicago area and his desire to give back to the community that had embraced him as one of its own.
Throughout these various endeavors, McMichael remained a beloved figure in Chicago. His gregarious personality, quotable interviews, and genuine appreciation for Bears fans ensured that “Mongo” would never be forgotten, even by generations too young to have seen him play.
“Steve never met a microphone he didn’t like,” laughs former teammate Jim McMahon. “But what made him special was that he was always authentically himself. Whether he was sacking a quarterback, doing commentary, or just meeting fans at an autograph signing, Steve was always Steve. No pretense, no filter—just Mongo being Mongo.”
This post-football phase of McMichael’s life also included one of his most important personal developments: his marriage to Misty in 1998. The couple would go on to welcome a daughter, Macy, in 2008. By all accounts, McMichael embraced fatherhood with the same passion he had brought to football, wrestling, and broadcasting.
“Being a dad changed Steve,” says longtime friend and former Bears teammate Keith Van Horne. “He was always a big teddy bear under that tough exterior, but with Macy, you really saw his gentle side. She was his world.”
It was this full, vibrant life that made the news of McMichael’s ALS diagnosis in early 2021 all the more devastating.
The Battle Begins: Confronting ALS
In January 2021, after months of unexplained symptoms, including weakness in his arms and difficulty with fine motor skills, McMichael received the diagnosis that would redefine the final chapter of his life: he had ALS.
Amyotrophic lateral sclerosis is a progressive neurodegenerative disease that affects nerve cells in the brain and spinal cord, leading to muscle weakness, paralysis, and eventually, respiratory failure. There is no cure, and the average life expectancy following diagnosis is just two to five years.
For someone who had built his identity around physical strength and resilience, the diagnosis represented a particularly cruel twist of fate. The body that had withstood thousands of violent collisions on the football field was now betraying him in the most fundamental ways.
When McMichael chose to make his diagnosis public in April 2021, the news sent shockwaves through the football community and beyond. Yet, in characteristic fashion, McMichael approached this devastating challenge with the same determination and courage that had defined his playing career.
“I’m not going to be out in public anymore,” McMichael told the Chicago Tribune when revealing his diagnosis, acknowledging the physical changes that were already becoming apparent. But he quickly added, with his trademark defiance: “I’m not going to be a public spectacle. I’m going to fight this damn disease. I’m going to beat the odds.”
The announcement triggered an outpouring of support from teammates, fans, and the broader sports world. Almost immediately, fundraising efforts began to help cover McMichael’s mounting medical expenses and support ALS research.
The Chicago Bears organization was quick to rally behind their former star. Team chairman George McCaskey issued a statement expressing the franchise’s support: “Steve McMichael has always been a fighter. From his days anchoring our defensive line to now, as he takes on this terrible disease, Mongo’s strength and determination continue to inspire all of us in the Bears family.”
As word of McMichael’s condition spread, tributes poured in from across the football landscape. Former opponents spoke of their respect for his toughness on the field and their admiration for how he was facing this new challenge. Fans shared memories of watching him dominate on the Soldier Field turf and expressed their heartbreak at seeing him confront such a devastating illness.
For the McMichael family, the diagnosis meant adjusting to a new reality—one defined by doctor’s appointments, specialized equipment, and the gradual loss of Steve’s physical capabilities. Misty McMichael, in particular, took on the role of primary caregiver, advocate, and spokesperson as her husband’s condition progressed.
“It’s been hard watching this happen to him,” Misty shared in an interview six months after the diagnosis. “This is a man who never sat still, who was always the life of the party. Now he can’t do so many of the things that brought him joy. But his spirit—that hasn’t changed. He still finds ways to make me laugh every day.”
Indeed, even as ALS took its toll on his body, McMichael’s mind remained sharp and his personality vibrant. Friends and family who visited him reported that despite his physical limitations, the classic “Mongo” wit and wisdom remained fully intact.
A Community Rallies: Support for McMichael
As news of McMichael’s diagnosis spread, the Chicago community—and the football world at large—mobilized to support one of its favorite sons. Former teammates organized fundraisers, fans contributed to medical expense funds, and the Bears organization ensured that McMichael’s needs were being met.
One of the most moving displays of support came in August 2022, when former members of the 1985 Bears championship team gathered for a benefit event called “MongoPalooza.” The event, held at a suburban Chicago venue, raised over $500,000 for McMichael’s care and ALS research.
“We take care of our own,” declared former Bears coach Mike Ditka at the event. “Steve was there for all of us during our playing days, and now it’s our turn to be there for him. That’s what teams do—they stick together, on the field and off.”
The support extended beyond financial assistance. As McMichael’s mobility decreased, special arrangements were made to ensure he could still participate in Bears-related events and maintain his connection to the team. When the Bears celebrated the 35th anniversary of their Super Bowl XX victory in late 2020 (shortly before his diagnosis became public), special accommodations were made so McMichael could attend and be honored alongside his teammates.
Support also came from unexpected quarters. Professional wrestlers who had worked with McMichael during his WCW days reached out with messages of encouragement. Political figures from across the spectrum expressed their admiration for his fighting spirit. Even longtime rivals from other NFL teams put aside old competitive grudges to offer their support.
Perhaps most significantly, McMichael’s battle helped raise awareness about ALS within the broader sports community. His willingness to share his story publicly put a familiar face on a disease that many people knew little about. ALS organizations reported increased donations and inquiries about volunteer opportunities in the months following McMichael’s announcement.
“Steve has turned his diagnosis into a platform for good,” noted Stacy Larson of the ALS Association’s Greater Chicago Chapter. “By being open about his journey, he’s helping countless others affected by this disease. That’s what makes him a true champion—his ability to think of others even while fighting his own battle.”
The Hall of Fame Campaign: Recognition Overdue
As McMichael’s health declined, a movement gained momentum among Bears fans, former players, and sports media: the push to get “Mongo” inducted into the Pro Football Hall of Fame while he could still enjoy the recognition.
Despite his impressive statistics, leadership on one of the NFL’s greatest defenses, and key role in a Super Bowl championship, McMichael had been consistently overlooked by Hall of Fame voters. Many attributed this to his no-nonsense playing style—McMichael wasn’t flashy or self-promoting, simply remarkably effective and consistent.
The campaign for McMichael’s induction took on new urgency after his ALS diagnosis. Petitions circulated online, former players spoke out about the injustice of his exclusion, and sports columnists across the country made the case for his worthiness.
“Steve McMichael belongs in Canton, and he belongs there now,” wrote veteran Chicago sports columnist Rick Telander in 2022. “His career numbers speak for themselves, but it’s more than that. He was the heart and soul of perhaps the greatest defense in NFL history. That the Hall of Fame voters haven’t recognized this is a profound oversight that needs to be corrected while Steve can still appreciate the honor.”
The groundswell of support produced results. In February 2024, McMichael was finally selected for induction into the Pro Football Hall of Fame as part of that year’s class. The announcement was met with jubilation from Bears fans and a sense of justice finally served among his former teammates.
By this time, McMichael’s condition had progressed significantly. He could no longer walk and had very limited ability to speak or move his arms. Nevertheless, he was determined to attend the induction ceremony in Canton, Ohio, that August.
The Hall of Fame made special arrangements to accommodate McMichael’s needs, and on August 3, 2024, surrounded by family, former teammates, and thousands of cheering fans, Steve McMichael was officially enshrined among football’s greatest players.
Unable to deliver a traditional acceptance speech due to his physical limitations, McMichael had prepared remarks that were read by his wife Misty, with their daughter Macy standing beside them:
“Football gave me everything in life,” the statement began. “It gave me purpose, it gave me brothers, it gave me a platform, and it gave me all of you amazing fans. I may not be able to tackle anymore, but with your support, I’m tackling this disease the same way I tackled running backs—with everything I’ve got.”
The ceremony represented a poignant moment of recognition and closure for McMichael. While his battle with ALS would continue, he had lived to see his professional legacy properly acknowledged at the highest level.
“That day meant everything to him,” Misty later shared. “Steve never played for individual accolades, but there was something special about seeing him take his rightful place alongside the all-time greats. I could see in his eyes how much it meant—how it validated everything he had given to the game.”
The Final Days: Dignity in the Face of Decline
In the months following his Hall of Fame induction, McMichael’s condition continued to deteriorate. The relentless progression of ALS meant that each day brought new challenges and further loss of function. By early 2025, he required round-the-clock care and relied on a ventilator to assist with breathing.
Throughout this difficult period, McMichael maintained the determined spirit that had characterized his life. Friends who visited reported that despite his physical limitations, his mind remained sharp and his sense of humor intact. Though speaking had become nearly impossible, he developed alternative ways to communicate, using eye movements and facial expressions to convey his thoughts.
“Even when he couldn’t talk, he was still Mongo,” recalls former teammate Jim Morrissey, who visited McMichael regularly during his final year. “He’d give you this look, and you knew exactly what he was thinking. Usually, it was something that would make you laugh or make you think—sometimes both.”
As April 2025 began, those closest to McMichael noticed a significant decline in his condition. Medical complications became more frequent, and his energy levels dropped noticeably. On April 20, after consulting with his medical team, the difficult decision was made to transfer him to a hospice facility in Joliet, Illinois, for end-of-life care.
In an emotional interview given shortly after this transition, Misty McMichael provided insight into these final, precious days: “As of today, Silver Cross Hospital in New Lenox has recommended to the family to transfer Steve into a Joliet hospice facility this afternoon,” she explained to Fox 32. Speaking through tears, she added, “I know he can hear me, and he can respond a little bit. He’s still my man. Twenty-four years married, 27 together. It’s hard to let him go. I don’t ever want to.”
During his final days, a steady stream of former teammates, coaches, and close friends came to pay their respects and say goodbye to the man who had meant so much to them. While these visits were private, those who participated described them as both heartbreaking and beautiful—a chance to express gratitude and love to a man who had impacted their lives profoundly.
On the morning of April 23, 2025, surrounded by his immediate family, Steve “Mongo” McMichael passed away peacefully. He was 67 years old.
The news of his death spread quickly, triggering an outpouring of tributes from across the sports world and beyond. The Bears organization released a statement expressing their profound grief: “Today, we lost not just a legendary Bears player, but a member of our family. Steve McMichael embodied everything that makes this franchise special—toughness, excellence, and an unwavering commitment to his team. Our hearts are with Misty, Macy, and all who loved him.”
NFL Commissioner Roger Goodell added his own tribute: “Steve McMichael’s impact on the game of football extends far beyond his impressive statistics or even his Hall of Fame induction. His courage in the face of ALS showed everyone the true meaning of strength. The entire NFL community mourns his loss and celebrates his remarkable life.”
A Legacy That Transcends Sports
In the days following McMichael’s death, as tributes continued to pour in from across the country, a clearer picture emerged of the true scope of his legacy. While his football achievements were certainly remarkable, it was his approach to life—both in triumph and adversity—that left the most lasting impression.
Former Bears safety Gary Fencik, who played alongside McMichael for years, perhaps expressed it best: “Steve was a great football player, no doubt about that. But he was an even better man. What I’ll remember most isn’t the sacks or the tackles—it’s his loyalty, his humor, his authenticity. And when ALS hit him, the dignity and courage he showed—that was Steve at his most inspirational.”
McMichael’s impact extended far beyond the football field. His four-year battle with ALS raised critical awareness about the disease and inspired countless others facing their own health challenges. The Steve McMichael ALS Research Fund, established after his diagnosis, had already raised over $2 million for research by the time of his death—a figure that increased substantially as memorial donations poured in.
For the Chicago community, McMichael represented something special—a link to one of the most beloved teams in the city’s rich sports history, but also an embodiment of Chicago’s self-image as tough, hardworking, and authentic. His roots may have been in Texas, but McMichael had become quintessentially Chicago in both his public persona and his values.
“There’s a reason Chicago embraced Steve so completely,” explained longtime Chicago sports radio host Dan Bernstein. “He wasn’t polished or politically correct. He was rough around the edges, unfiltered, and completely genuine. This city appreciates authenticity above almost anything else, and Steve was nothing if not authentic.”
In the weeks following his death, various tributes to McMichael’s memory were announced. The Bears revealed plans to retire his number 76 jersey during a ceremony at the 2025 season home opener. The city of Chicago approved the renaming of a street near Soldier Field as “Steve McMichael Way.” And the Pro Football Hall of Fame announced a special exhibition dedicated to McMichael’s career that would open later that year.
But perhaps the most meaningful tributes came from ordinary fans who had never met McMichael personally but felt a deep connection to him nonetheless. Thousands shared stories on social media about meeting McMichael at autograph signings or chance encounters, describing his generosity with his time and his genuine appreciation for their support.
“I met Steve at a mall signing when I was 10 years old,” wrote one fan. “He saw I was wearing a homemade Bears jersey with his number, and he spent extra time talking to me about football. He made me feel like I was the most important person there. I never forgot that moment, and it taught me something about how to treat people.”
Remembering the Man Behind the Myth
As the initial shock of McMichael’s passing gave way to reflection, those who knew him best shared deeper insights into the man behind the fearsome “Mongo” persona. These personal recollections revealed a more nuanced picture of McMichael—one that included not just his legendary toughness but also his intelligence, loyalty, and surprising sensitivity.
Dan Hampton, McMichael’s longtime teammate on the Bears’ defensive line, spoke about McMichael’s little-known intellectual side: “People who didn’t know Steve might have seen this wild, crazy character and assumed that’s all there was to him. But he was incredibly smart—a student of the game who could break down offenses like a coach. He read books constantly—history, philosophy, you name it. There was a real depth to him that many people never got to see.”
Bears chairman George McCaskey shared memories of McMichael’s generosity: “Whenever we asked Steve to visit a children’s hospital or attend a charity event, he was always the first to volunteer. And he didn’t just show up—he fully engaged, spent real time with people, made genuine connections. He understood the platform he had and used it to make a difference in countless lives.”
Misty McMichael offered perhaps the most intimate perspective, describing the husband and father behind the public figure: “Steve was the toughest man I ever knew on the field, but at home, he was so gentle, especially with Macy. He would have tea parties with her when she was little, let her paint his nails, whatever made her happy. That’s who Steve really was—this perfect balance of strength and tenderness that made him such a remarkable person.”
McMichael’s battle with ALS, while devastating, had also revealed aspects of his character that might otherwise have remained private. His grace in the face of such a debilitating condition, his determination to live each day fully despite his limitations, and his concern for others even as he fought his own battle—all spoke to a profound inner strength that transcended physical prowess.
“In some ways, I got to know Steve better during these last four years than in all our playing days together,” reflected former teammate Jim Covert. “When you’re stripped of everything physical—which for an athlete is so much of your identity—your true character shows. Steve never complained, never asked ‘why me?’ He just kept fighting, kept finding joy where he could, kept thinking of others. That takes a kind of courage that makes tackling running backs look easy in comparison.”
The Medical Legacy: McMichael’s Contribution to ALS Research
Beyond the personal and cultural impact of McMichael’s life and death, his experience with ALS has contributed to the ongoing search for better treatments and, ultimately, a cure for this devastating disease.
Throughout his illness, McMichael participated in several clinical trials and research studies, providing valuable data that researchers continue to analyze. His high profile as a former NFL player also brought renewed attention to the potential link between repeated head trauma in football and neurodegenerative diseases like ALS.
Dr. Robert Stern, director of clinical research at the Boston University CTE Center, commented on McMichael’s contribution: “When someone with Steve’s visibility chooses to participate in research and speak openly about their experience, it advances our understanding in ways that extend far beyond that individual case. His willingness to be a part of these studies might help us develop treatments that benefit countless future patients.”
In recognition of McMichael’s contributions to ALS research, the Les Turner ALS Foundation announced the establishment of the Steve McMichael Research Grant, which will provide annual funding for promising studies into the causes and potential treatments for the disease.
“Steve once told me that if his experience could help save even one person from going through what he did, then all his suffering would have meaning,” shared Dr. Lisa Wilson, McMichael’s neurologist. “That’s the kind of person he was—always thinking about the bigger picture, about how his journey might make a difference for others.”
View this post on Instagram
A Funeral Fit for a Legend
On April 30, 2025, a week after his passing, Chicago bid a final farewell to Steve McMichael with a funeral service that reflected both his outsized personality and his deep impact on the community. Held at Soldier Field—the stadium where McMichael had created so many memories—the service drew thousands of mourners from across the country.
The Bears organization, with the blessing of the McMichael family, opened the service to the public, allowing fans to join in celebrating the life of a man who had meant so much to so many. The result was a gathering that blended the solemnity of a memorial with the celebratory atmosphere of a Bears game day.
Former teammates served as pallbearers, carrying McMichael’s casket, draped in a Bears flag, to a central position on the field. A stage had been set up at the 50-yard line, where a series of speakers shared memories and reflections on McMichael’s life and legacy.
Mike Ditka, visibly emotional, spoke about McMichael’s contributions to the Bears’ success: “Steve wasn’t just a great player—he was the backbone of our defense, the guy who made everything else possible. He never sought the spotlight, never complained about doing the dirty work. He just showed up every day and gave everything he had. That’s why his teammates loved him, and that’s why he’ll never be forgotten.”
Richard Dent, who played alongside McMichael on the defensive line for years, recalled their friendly competition: “Steve and I used to bet on who would get more sacks each game. I won some, he won some, but the real winners were the Bears, because that competition made both of us better. That was Steve—always pushing himself and everyone around him to be their best.”
Misty McMichael, supported by daughter Macy, delivered a moving tribute to her husband: “Steve lived exactly as he wanted to live—fully, authentically, without regrets. Even when ALS took away his ability to move, to speak, to breathe on his own, it never took his spirit, his humor, or his love for his family and friends. He fought until the very end, just as he did on the football field, and he left this world knowing how deeply he was loved.”
The service concluded with a video montage of McMichael’s career highlights, personal moments, and interviews, set to “Bear Down, Chicago Bears”—the team’s fight song that had played so many times during McMichael’s career. As the final notes faded, a flyover of fighter jets in the missing man formation provided a powerful symbol of a warrior’s final departure.
Following the public service, McMichael was laid to rest in a private ceremony attended only by family and closest friends. In accordance with his wishes, his Hall of Fame ring was buried with him—a fitting final tribute to the recognition he had received in his lifetime.
The Enduring Impact: How McMichael Continues to Inspire
In the months since McMichael’s passing, his influence continues to be felt in numerous ways. The Bears’ decision to wear “76” patches on their jerseys throughout the 2025 season ensures that his memory remains visible on the field he once dominated. The team also announced that all proceeds from sales of McMichael jerseys and merchandise would go to ALS research, generating over $3 million in the first six months after his death.
The Steve McMichael ALS Foundation, established shortly after his passing, has become a significant force in both patient support and research funding. Led by Misty McMichael and several of Steve’s former teammates, the foundation works to provide resources for families affected by ALS and to advance scientific understanding of the disease.
“Steve always said that if his struggle could help others, then it had purpose,” explains Misty, who serves as the foundation’s president. “Every day, we’re working to fulfill that mission—to transform his experience into hope for others facing this terrible disease.”
Beyond these formal initiatives, McMichael’s legacy lives on in countless personal ways. Coaches at all levels cite his example when teaching young players about determination and teamwork. People facing health challenges draw inspiration from his courage in confronting ALS. And Bears fans continue to share stories about the unforgettable player who embodied the team’s tough, no-nonsense identity.
Perhaps most importantly, McMichael’s journey reminds us all of what true strength looks like. In a culture that often equates strength with physical prowess or unyielding toughness, McMichael’s final years revealed a deeper kind of strength—the courage to face unimaginable challenges with grace, humor, and concern for others.
Former Bears quarterback Jim McMahon, who remained close to McMichael throughout his illness, put it this way: “Steve was always the strongest guy in the room during our playing days. But the real measure of his strength wasn’t how many quarterbacks he sacked or how many games he played through injury. It was how he handled ALS—with dignity, with courage, without self-pity. That’s the legacy that matters most.”
As the first anniversary of McMichael’s passing approaches, plans are underway for various commemorative events. The Bears have announced a “Steve McMichael Day” to be held at their home opener, featuring special tributes and fundraising initiatives for ALS research. The Pro Football Hall of Fame will unveil an enhanced exhibit dedicated to McMichael’s career and his fight against ALS. And in Chicago, a community foundation bearing his name will launch a scholarship program for young athletes who demonstrate exceptional character and determination.
These formal recognitions, while meaningful, represent just a fraction of McMichael’s lasting impact. His true legacy lies in the lives he touched, the standards he set, and the example he provided—both in his remarkable football career and in his brave battle with ALS.
Steve “Mongo” McMichael was many things during his 67 years: a football star, a colorful personality, a devoted husband and father, a Chicago icon. But perhaps his most important role was that of teacher—someone whose life showed us what it means to face both triumph and tragedy with equal measures of courage, humor, and grace.
In his final public statement, recorded shortly before his death and played at his Hall of Fame induction, McMichael offered words that now seem prophetic: “Football taught me that it’s not about how many times you get knocked down—it’s about whether you get back up. Life has knocked me down harder than any offensive lineman ever did, but with your support, I keep getting up, keep fighting. That’s the only way I know how to live.”
That fighting spirit, that refusal to surrender even in the face of overwhelming odds, remains Steve McMichael’s most enduring gift to all who knew him or followed his journey. It’s a legacy not of mere athletic achievement, but of profound human courage—one that will continue to inspire long after the echoes of cheering crowds have faded from Soldier Field.
As Chicago and the football world continue to mourn his loss, they also celebrate the extraordinary life of a man who gave his all on the field and showed even greater courage off it. Steve “Mongo” McMichael may be gone, but the impact of his indomitable spirit will endure for generations to come.
