WARNING: The following article breaks PCS protocol and ventures into scary territory. I’m going to use my column this week to wax poetic on SPORTSBALL. Gird your loins, nerds. 

I have just watched my beloved Chicago Bears lose to the Los Angeles Rams in overtime. As it’s been all season long, the Bears kept the game spicy down to the last play. It was an even affair for the entire game — with Matthew Stafford and his Rams trading points with Caleb Williams and the Bears pretty much all night. Pretty much… until Williams tossed an interception with wide receiver DJ Moore apparently not even knowing he was the intended receiver. With the ball back in their control, Stafford marched up the field well enough to allow for the go-ahead field goal for the win. Soldier’s Field deflated, and Chicago patted each other on the back for what we did accomplish.

Chicago, my home city (by way of the suburbs, I admit) is a proud city. We burnt ourselves to the ground and rebuilt stronger. Our sports teams have survived cursed billy goats, and championship droughts that have lasted decades. For those of us who Bear Down, we carry a very specific chip on our shoulder. In 1985, we held court with pop culture. The Super Bowl Shuffle music video was released seven weeks ahead of the Bears’ eventual win over the New England Patriots in Super Bowl XX. To showcase that level of hubris meant either we actually were that good, or we were just aiming to be the laughing stock of professional sports for all time. Luckily, we absolutely leveled the Pats, and took our shiny rings. The Bears wouldn’t see the big game again until 2007. And there, armed with the number one defense in the league… my wife’s Indianapolis Colts crushed us under their horseshoes. 

What followed from that mess was a team pratfalling into oblivion. Between 2008 and 2024, the Bears started 20 different quarterbacks, and had 5 different head coaches at the helm. Each year we found new and amazing ways to lose. As a fan? Deflating doesn’t come close to cutting it. We blamed everyone and everything. Our QBs, head coaches, general managers, the decrepit penny-pinching owners, the nacho bowl dropped into the stadium, not having better facilities, and just the city of Green Bay perhaps casting curses from across the tundra. But I digress. 

At the bottom of that well, Chicago took Caleb Williams as our quarterback in the 2024 NFL Draft. Citing many scouts who commented on his ability to run, pass, and outclass defenders, once again the city placed confidence on a new set of shoulders. Alas, under the tutelage of time-blind wet-blanket head coach Matt Eberflus, Williams looked like he lacked any of the intangibles that were supposed to make him stand out. The 2024 Chicago Bears lost 10 games in a row, and the fans themselves were proudly offering northwest Indiana the team in disgust. The ire finally reached the McCaskey family (owner of the Bears for over 100 years!), who begrudgingly opened their pocketbook and cut a deal with the wunderkind offensive coordinator for the never-better Detroit Lions and hired Ben Johnson as the new head coach for the 2025 season.

Ben Johnson from his very first presser was the kind of coach Chicago’s been dreaming of since Mike Ditka (love him or hate him… he couldn’t care less if he tried). He’s serious. He’s spicy. He’s gutsy. He’s methodical. Combine all those adjectives with a quick wink to the fans by way of an on-mic potshot at the dreaded Packers, and the city perked up. Over the NFL draft and off-season, we watched Johnson build a coaches room, and a team from the ground up. He replaced the box of used tissues that was our offensive line with fresh faces (some with Super Bowl pedigrees). He worked with General Manager Ryan Poles to pick interesting offensive players to give Caleb Williams real threats on the field. 

Reports came next that during training camp, Ben Johnson had a vision. He sent Caleb Williams into the film room with specific lessons (versus Eberflus who reportedly just let Caleb aimlessly wander through footage for inspiration…). He told the team in Ron Swansoneque terms what he was looking for. 

A team that plays for sixty minutes. That never doubts itself. That plays for each other — not for individual stat lines and contract negotiations. That wins matter. That losses matter more for lessons to be learned. He wasn’t demanding perfection. He was demanding attention. Belief.

When the season actually started (forgive me, I don’t put a lot of faith in preseason games), I personally had a few attainable goals in mind:

1. The Bears need to win more than they lose. In a standard NFL regular season, that means nine wins. Nine wins doesn’t mean playoffs, but again, as a downbeat fan, I wasn’t looking for more than that twinkle of hope. 
2. The Bears needed to beat the Green Bay Packers at least once. Sorry, not sorry. The rivalry is very real, and after living through the Brett Farve and Aaron Rogers era respectively… I needed to drink the tears of Wisconsinites.
3. I needed to see Ben Johnson’s fire with the team. A head coach that visibly cares, and connects with his players.

The season started and the Bears screwed the pooch. Twice. Division losses to the Minnesota Vikings, and then a complete undressing by coach Johnson’s former team, the Detroit Lions. We Bears fans sighed loudly, and tucked in for a long, sad season.

And then we won the next four games. I’m not entirely sure when the first viral video dropped… but soon enough we got footage of coach Johnson addressing his Bears after a win. He handed out game balls to the players most deserving — and gave them open time to thank teammates or say their peace. He then set up that it was only one win and there were many weeks of work ahead of them. Before calling it a day, Ben brought all the players in close.

GOOD. BETTER. BEST.
NEVER LET IT REST.
TILL YOUR GOOD GETS BETTER…
AND YOUR BETTER GETS BEST!

This mantra, shouted and repeated back, tied the team together. As fans, we saw something we had not seen in forty years. Players playing for each other. A team that believed not in single magical players, no. A team that believed in itself. This mantra would be shouted with every victory — including one where Ben Johnson removed his shirt in order to secure free hot dogs for the city. 

Over the course of the 2025 season, the Bears would win 11 games in the regular season, and make it to the playoffs. In the wild card game, we stood opposite the Green Bay Packers. By halftime of that game? The Bears were down 21 – 3. The city collectively sighed, but stayed glued to the field. Over the next 30 minutes, Caleb Williams led his team to a 31 – 27 victory. 

This past Sunday, the Bears hosted the Los Angeles Rams (as you know). All week, the city smirked and snickered. With a forecast in the low teens, and predicted wind and snow… the team led by the Iceman figured we had the edge over the Rams — especially given all the statisticians mulling over how “fair weather teams” buckle in the cold. In the back of my mind, all I figured was if we’re thinking weather is our weapon to win? We’re not quite ready for the big game. And we’re back to the beginning.

Admittedly, I’m not huge on many sports. Baseball is abysmally slow-paced to me. Basketball was fun while Michael Jordan played. Hockey is better as a comedy for my tastes. For whatever reason? Football has always been my milieu. With our season now at a conclusion, I am proud once again of being a Chicago Bears fan. We more than met my meager standards for the year… and it gives me genuine hope that we’ll improve that much more in year 2 of Ben Johnson’s tenure. Caleb Williams will be in his 3rd year, and now has that taste of big time attention enough to inspire better play. With all that said, I can’t wait for the Bears to return… in Avengers: Doomsday.

Bear down.