I read today of the passing of former Chicago Bears player and head coach Mike Ditka. He’s a legend in Chicago, and I’m sure the local media will document that.

I met him once.

In 1985, I was working for Young Athlete magazine. It was a start-up in suburban Chicago and, every now and then, there were some pretty cool assignments. I got press passes to take pictures at Wrigley Field and Comiskey Park. I was able to meet some of the players.

But the coolest assignment ever—not just at Young Athlete, but for my entire career—came on a September afternoon when I walked into the publisher’s office.

“We’re going to feature Mike Ditka on the cover of the next issue,” he said. “I need you to go to Halas Hall, take some photos and interview him about the impact of youth sports.”

I nodded and calmly made some notes about what he wanted.

Inside, I was barely able to contain my excitement.

I was a huge Bears fan. The team made it to the NFC Championship Game the previous season and we were expecting big things that year. And the Bears delivered.

A 15-1 regular season.

The Super Bowl Shuffle.

Two playoff shutouts to earn them a trip to the Super Bowl.

A 46-10 trouncing of the Patriots in the Super Bowl.

The 1985 Bears were legendary and still revered in Chicago today.

I didn’t know it at the time, but I got to interview Coach Ditka during the season that would end with him being carried off the field on his players’ shoulders as a Super Bowl champion.

I was excited, but also very intimidated. Coach Ditka seemed like a no-nonsense guy who wouldn’t take kindly to some kid wasting his time. So I prepared as best I could, pretended to know what I was doing and, as a 22-year-old, less than a year out of college, walked into Halas Hall to interview the head coach of the Chicago Bears.

Coach Ditka couldn’t have been more accommodating. I was escorted into his office. He smiled and shook my hand.

It was the firm handshake you would expect from a football player.

For 30 minutes, he made me feel as if he had nothing more important to do than talk to me.

He posed for photos, listened to my questions, and gave thoughtful answers. His passion for football shone through as he remembered the game’s impact on his life.

I had no idea at age 22 what it must be like to be the head coach of an NFL team—the demands on your time, the constant media attention, the pressure to succeed, having to get the best from more than 50 players and a dozen coaches while carrying the expectations of the owners and perhaps millions of fans. It’s daunting, especially when you’re coaching perhaps the most storied franchise in the NFL.

I sensed none of that from Coach Ditka that day. He was just a guy happy to spend a few minutes talking about the sport he loved.

Mike Ditka had a tremendous career in the NFL. I’ll leave it to those more knowledgeable than me to expound upon that.

During our interview, Coach Ditka said, “If I can teach my players a little about football and a lot about life, that’s what is most important.”

In 30 minutes on a September afternoon, he taught me about respect, patience, and passion for what you love. That lesson has lasted more than 40 years.

Thanks, Coach.