Jeff Pearlman’s detailed, thoroughly researched yet also thoroughly readable biography “Sweetness” makes eminently clear. Perfect athletes are perfect people only in adolescent biographies.
Jeff Pearlman is an American sportswriter who has wrote for Sports Illustrated and written multiple sports biography books. He seems to like writing about iconic teams and players, such as the 1986 Mets, The Lakers and Cowboys and players like Barry Bonds, Roger Clemens, and Brett Favre. I think he needs to update the Favre one. The current HBO show - Winning Time credits Pearlman’s book.
Sweetness: The Enigmatic Life of Walter Payton stands as one of the most engaging, thoroughly researched, and frank football books imaginable. Pearlman said he interviewed 678 people for the book, which he worked on for 2 ½ years. Sweetness chronicles Payton's life, from his childhood in segregated Mississippi, to his college years at Jackson State, to his 13-year NFL career and his post-Bears life.
The “Sweetness” nickname, interestingly, stemmed not from his outwardly sunny and playful personality, but from something that occurred during a practice for a college all-star team. While eluding a would-be tackler, he yelled out to the defender, “Your sweetness is your weakness!” So a rather uneventful creation of a nickname, but it did play into a persona that Walter wanted people to believe.
There are certain Chicago institutions that an outsider simply does not mess with. Walter Payton tops the list, not only as the quintessential Chicago Bear but also as the dependable, durable, tough-minded embodiment of how Chicagoans like to view themselves. Pearlman got a flack at the time this book was released.
Pearlman did not set out to expose Payton but to understand him, to identify and define the qualities that made him so appealing. He was a football-playing hero to millions, true, but he was also a human being of considerable complexity. There’s a story in how those two sides intersected, and a skilled biographer like Pearlman is, gets to that story.
He wasn’t the fastest or biggest running back, but Chicago fans learned he was the best all-around runner, blocker and receiver, and probably one of the best players, pound for pound, in the history of professional football.
Payton, a child of the South, grew up in the tumultuous era of civil rights and integration. In his senior year, his high school was integrated, and racial tensions divided the football team. Although he was an outstanding prospect, Payton’s path to major colleges was blocked by an unwritten racial quota. Instead, he attended Jackson State College, a traditional “black university.” After an outstanding college career, the Chicago Bears made him the fourth overall selection in the 1975 draft.
I grew up in Chicago in the 70’s. Walter Payton was the only sports poster I had in my room as a kid. Payton gained my admiration and almost all Bears fans because, he gained yardage behind offensive lines that were mediocre at best, his margin not just talent but a toughness fostered by his own grueling work ethic: He ran up hills and stadium stands in season and off and sprinted after each practice play. He embodied toughness. In Walter’s prime, he played for terrible Bears teams where defenses always zoned in on him, because he was the offense. Things started to change in the early 80’s when Mike Ditka became coach, and the Bears finally drafted a talented QB in Jim McMahon.
The 1985 Bears won the Super Bowl and are remembered as one of the most iconic teams in NFL history. They went 15 – 1 that year. After their only loss to Miami, Payton initially refused to participate with teammates in taping “The famous Super Bowl Shuffle” video. He later was taped against a blue screen and his image spliced into the smash-hit, rap song project, a natural for a guy who had once been a finalist in the national “Soul Train” dance competition while in college. What makes this such a fascinating read, even after growing up following Walter Payton, as a kid, time after time in this book I was learning new things about him, both good and bad.
Now for some of the bad. After the 46-10 Bears win over the New England Patriots, still the most one-sided Super Bowl game in history, represents the riddle that was Walter Payton. This championship should have been the pinnacle of his career. Instead, he ended the game in tears because he had not been given the opportunity to score a touchdown. Afterwards, his agent and friend, Bud Holmes, was forced to cajole him to appear before the media. He somehow did after Holmes talked him into it. The weird thing about the 1985 team, as far as pop culture at the time was that Walter was in 4th place behind Ditka, McMahon and The Fridge. This is not even counting Buddy Ryan and the 46 defense. What a team!
As for Payton's 23-year marriage to Connie, Pearlman says that "it was a union solely in name." Walter's extramarital dalliances were becoming common knowledge throughout Chicago. Says his longtime friend Ron Atlas, "Walter knew that if he left Connie, all the work he'd done to his image would go by the wayside."
In retirement without football, he became deeply depressed. “Payton found himself burdened by a realization that had struck thousands of ex-athletes before him: I am bored out of my mind,’ Pearlman writes. Walter loved to drive fast, and he took up race car driving and suffered a severe injury that scared his daughter Brittany.
Despite his apparent affability and often-gifted platform presence, he was often lonely; his close friends on the Bears were a short list, chiefly running back Roland Harper and, later, fullback Matt Suhey. We learn too that his marriage to Connie Payton was marred by his attraction to a succession of other women and that he was prone to pain killers and depression, made manifest in suicide threats unreported in the press.
It would have been more so if Payton hadn’t used painkillers to cope with the damage done to his body over 13 seasons of high-speed, never-back-down NFL collisions. And life after football had to be a letdown for anyone who had heard the cheers that Payton heard and felt the rush Payton felt Sunday after Sunday for those 13 years. It was never revealed if Walter suffered from concussions. All the people who saw him play would probably agree that if he had a concussion, he was not sitting down.
Payton was elected to the Pro Football Hall of Fame in 1993. At his Hall of Fame induction — which should have been a highlight in his life — his wife sat in the front row. And his flight attendant girlfriend sat in the second. His longtime assistant was in charge of keeping them apart. The last 10 years of Walter’s life, he lived apart from Connie. They were never divorced. It seems the main reason being is that Walter was marketed as a family man.
The last part of the book covers Payton’s rare illness. Payton had primary sclerosing cholangitis, a rare and deadly liver disease. The cause of it was unknown and so was the cure. The hardships he went through, the unrealized hope for a liver transplant that would never come, how he knew, deep inside, that he was going to die. Despite that, he kept going until he no longer could. He contacted old teammates and friends. He faced everything as he always did, with pride and determination. He died of bile duct cancer in 1999.
Pearlman claims his portrait of Payton is not meant to be exploitative, and that the 678 interviews he conducted were a reflection of his desire to tell a fascinating life story well. The end result: He came to love Payton, not for his insecurities and shortcomings, but for his sheer humanity. “I love what he overcame, I love what he accomplished, I love what he symbolized, and I love the nooks and crannies and complexities,” Pearlman concludes in the book’s final paragraph.
He had a reputation for being kind-hearted and caring and knew the names of ballboys and team interns ¬– and even where they went to school. The NFL has honored his memory by naming its annual player community service award the Walter Payton Man of the Year Award.
Off the field at his best, Walter understood celebrity and embraced its demands, going beyond mere autograph-signing to introduce himself to people on the street with a warm, “Hi, I’m Walter – Walter Payton.” He would lend support to those players who were unlikely to make the roster, giving them a kind word or a reassuring pep talk. He also spent many a day visiting children in hospitals and for the most part did it without publicity.
This is an extremely detailed and well researched book. Potential readers… regardless of their (fan) team affiliation should not hold it against the author for telling the truth. The writing style… even when describing Payton’s deep foibles is never done in a malicious “Hollywood” gossip column manner. Yes, Payton used drugs and committed adultery. He was not the perfect father or husband the media portrayed. But in that regard, he is no different from most professional athletes and indeed no different from most people.