Steve “Mongo” McMichael, a towering presence both on and off the football field, passed away on April 25, 2025, at the age of 67. His death marks the end of a courageous and public battle with ALS—Amyotrophic Lateral Sclerosis—that began in 2021. Known for his fierce play, larger-than-life personality, and undying love for the Chicago Bears, McMichael’s passing has left an indelible void in the hearts of football fans, friends, and family alike.
McMichael’s name is etched in the pantheon of NFL greats, not only as one of the most dominant defensive linemen of his era but also as a cultural icon who transcended the game. Over the course of his storied 15-year NFL career, 13 of which were spent with the Chicago Bears, McMichael became synonymous with toughness, tenacity, and unapologetic swagger. He was a cornerstone of the legendary 1985 Bears defense, a unit that is still widely regarded as one of the most ferocious and complete defenses in NFL history.
Born in Houston, Texas, in 1957, McMichael starred at the University of Texas, where he was a consensus All-American before being selected in the third round of the 1980 NFL Draft by the New England Patriots. After being waived in his rookie year, McMichael signed with the Chicago Bears—a move that changed the trajectory of his life and cemented his legacy. Under the guidance of defensive coordinator Buddy Ryan and head coach Mike Ditka, McMichael blossomed into one of the league’s most feared interior linemen. His ability to stuff the run, collapse the pocket, and play with relentless aggression made him a nightmare for opposing offenses.
Over the span of his career, McMichael appeared in 213 consecutive games, an extraordinary feat of durability and consistency for a defensive tackle. He finished with 95 sacks, ranking second in Bears history at the time of his retirement, and he was named to two Pro Bowls and five All-Pro teams. But beyond the stats and accolades, McMichael was beloved for his heart, humor, and unmatched charisma. His post-game interviews were legendary, his sideline antics unforgettable, and his presence in the locker room irreplaceable.
McMichael’s moment in the sun came during the Bears’ magical 1985 season. With one of the most dominant defenses ever assembled, Chicago stormed through the NFL with a 15-1 regular season record, culminating in a 46-10 demolition of the New England Patriots in Super Bowl XX. McMichael, nicknamed “Mongo” for his brute strength and Wild West personality, was at the heart of it all—literally and figuratively. He recorded key sacks, forced fumbles, and led with an unrelenting motor that embodied the spirit of that historic team.
Off the field, McMichael was just as electric. He parlayed his fame into a colorful career that included stints as a professional wrestler with WCW, a television personality, and even a brief run for mayor of Romeoville, Illinois. He was never far from the spotlight, and even when he wasn’t on the field, his presence commanded attention. Whether performing in front of thousands of fans in a wrestling ring or talking sports with local radio listeners, McMichael brought an intensity and candor that fans loved and respected.
Yet behind the boisterous persona was a man deeply committed to his family, his community, and his teammates. He remained active in charitable causes throughout his life, often donating his time and energy to veterans’ groups, children’s hospitals, and animal shelters. His love for Chicago was unwavering, and the city loved him back with equal fervor. For many Bears fans, McMichael wasn’t just a player—he was the beating heart of their football identity.
In 2021, McMichael announced that he had been diagnosed with ALS, also known as Lou Gehrig’s disease. The revelation sent shockwaves through the sports world. True to form, McMichael faced the diagnosis head-on, refusing to retreat from the public eye. As his condition progressed and he lost the ability to speak and move freely, his wife, Misty, became his primary caregiver and fiercest advocate. Together, they used their platform to raise awareness and support for ALS research, launching campaigns and appearing at fundraisers despite the physical and emotional toll the disease exacted.
The Chicago sports community rallied around McMichael in his time of need. From former teammates to current players, from front office executives to fans across the country, the outpouring of support was a testament to the profound impact he had on so many lives. In 2024, after years of grassroots campaigning and growing public support, McMichael was elected to the Pro Football Hall of Fame. Though physically unable to attend the enshrinement ceremony in person, his induction was one of the most emotional moments in recent NFL history. His former teammates, including Jim McMahon, Richard Dent, and Mike Singletary, honored him with stirring tributes that celebrated not only his achievements on the field but the spirit he embodied off it.
That moment in Canton was a long-overdue recognition of a player whose contributions had sometimes been overlooked in favor of flashier stars. But for those who watched him every Sunday, for those who lined Soldier Field in the biting cold to cheer on their team, McMichael was always a Hall of Famer. He was the guy who never took a play off, who picked up his teammates, who showed up and gave everything he had every single time he put on the pads.
His death leaves a hole not only in the Bears family but in the broader tapestry of professional football. Teammates and opponents alike respected him as a competitor, a warrior, and a man who lived life full throttle. In the coming days, tributes will pour in from across the sports world, each one a reflection of the unique place McMichael held in the hearts of those who knew him or watched him play.
For many, the image of McMichael they’ll remember is not of the man slowed by disease, but of the ferocious defensive tackle who bullied centers and guards, who roared in celebration after a sack, who stormed off the field with a grin and a swagger. They’ll remember the way he brought Chicago to its feet, the way he lit up every room, and the way he fought to the very end.
Steve McMichael’s life was defined by grit, laughter, resilience, and love. He lived as he played—boldly, with passion, and without fear. He gave everything he had to the game, to his city, and to the people he loved. And though ALS ultimately claimed his life, it never claimed his spirit. That remains untouchable, eternal.
He is survived by his wife Misty and their daughter Macy, who stood by his side through his most difficult years. In lieu of flowers, the McMichael family has asked that donations be made to Team Mongo and ALS research foundations in Steve’s honor.
As the sun sets on the life of a true Chicago icon, fans will gather, stories will be shared, and memories will be relived. Because legends never die—they live on in the hearts of those they inspired. And for Steve “Mongo” McMichael, that means generations of fans, players, and dreamers who will always carry a little piece of his fire with them.
Rest in peace, Mongo. You were one of a kind.