Wooden Sharks and Lombardi Trophies

In 2001 my family and I traveled to Micronesia for a scuba diving vacation. To get from Hawaii to Micronesia you need to fly to Guam then take a short flight from Guam to your desired island. Pretty simple, except there are two vastly different ways to travel from Hawaii to Guam: a 7-hour direct flight to Guam International Airport or a 14-hour island hopping sojourn that stops at every borderline significant atoll large enough to warrant a 7-11 between Hawaii and the land of the brown tree snakes. (You can probably guess which flight we took.)

In our defense, we chose the island-hopper in large part because of my older brother's hyperbolic description of the Continental Airlines flying experience following his recent trip to New York:

Each seat has it's own TV with on demand movies and video games!!!

The lunch service makes Wolfgang Puck look like a hobo!!!

The flight attendants give out free pillows... and hand jobs!!!

The middle seats on the plane fold down, turning the cabin into a giant dance club with free champagne and a complimentary Puff Daddy performance!!!

None of us were huge Puff Daddy fans and free pillows are standard fare on airlines, but the allure of great food and non-stop on-demand movies and video games combined with the intrigue of stopping at various islands outweighed the additional seven hours of travel time and numerous take-offs and landings. Unfortunately, we were not aware that the island hopper used a smaller plane, which does not have individual TVs on each seat, and the constant take off and landings eliminate the need for substantive food service. Instead of a high-class non-stop dance party in the sky, we had 14 hours of Lifetime made for TV movies, cardboard flavored sandwiches befitting a vending machine, and small bags of Frito-Lays potato chips dating back to the mid-70s whose packages were mostly likely colored with lead-based paint. If the trip didn't kill us, the liver damage and kidney failure would. Awesome.

On the bright side, stopping at the individual islands provided an interesting glimpse into local culture and a great sense of the size and topography of the islands in the Western Pacific. I suppose that's like saying that the bright side to catching the flu is that you get to stay home and watch "The Price is Right" reruns in between bouts of vomiting and diarrhea; but after 14-hours on an airplane with only a few bits of cardboard, freeze dried turkey, potato chips and lead-based paint in your stomach, you start clinging to any ray of hope to delay cannibalism and outright anarchy.

After 12 hours of the Micronesian death march, when all hope seemed lost and we started openly debating the merits of eating my little brother, one stop made the entire trip worthwhile: Kosrae.

Kosrae is the final stop before Guam, a tiny, borderline insignificant island that wouldn't make anyone's list of Top 500 places to visit before you die. Tourists traveling to Micronesia go to Chuuk or Yap. No one visits Kosrae. There is nothing notable or interesting about the island except for one exceedingly cool local craft available for purchase in the airport: hand-carved wooden sharks. They range from one to three feet long, have exceptional detail, and real shark teeth, expertly affixed in the life-like jaw. They are the single coolest hand crafted item I have ever encountered in my travels and would look amazing sitting majestically atop my coffee table, boldly announcing to any that enter your home that you are a man who doesn't take any guff. You are an apex predator, a cold, icy killer with testicles anywhere from 25 to 200 percent larger than the average non-shark possessing male. Even better, the sharks weren't that expensive. They ranged in price from $20 for the smaller ones to $40 for the larger, more intricate carvings.

So, of course, we didn't buy one. We talked ourselves out of the purchase using contrived logic.

We don't want to carry it around in our luggage the entire trip

Only stupid tourists buy things in an airport

Clearly, they'll be available on the other islands

So, instead of plopping down $40 for a three foot long, gorgeous, hand-detailed Hammerhead shark, I kept my wallet in my pocket and got back on the plane. Worst. Decision. Ever. As we later learned, the wooden carvings are Kosrae's signature item and only available for purchase on the island.

I walked away from, hands-down, the most awesome, staggeringly bad-ass souvenir of my life because I didn't want to potentially regret spending an extra Hamilton. That is the reason why, ten years later, my coffee table lays bare instead of adorned by a fearsome virile totem to my masculinity. It is also why I am still so upset over the Chicago Bears losing the NFC Conference Championship game to the Packers this past Sunday.

Don't get me wrong. The Packers were a better, more talented football team and deserved to win the game. The Bears skirted through the season on luck, pluck, and verve, avoiding significant injury and seemingly catching every opponent at the best possible time. They played Detroit without their starting quarterback. Twice. They beat Green Bay by a field goal after the Packers committed 18,000 penalties. They beat a Dolphins team starting their third string quarterback, one so bad he was cut the previous year by Kansas City. They played Minnesota without Brett Favre. They clinched a first round bye after Green Bay lost to Detroit and Philadelphia lost to a Minnesota team led by Joe Webb (whose name I had to Google). In the first round of the playoffs, they got to play a 7-9, hide-the-women-and-children dumpster fire Seahawks team after Seattle miraculously upset the heavily favored Saints and Green Bay beat Philadelphia on the road. They caught every break all season long and their luck finally ran out at the worst possible time.

At the beginning of the season, I thought the Bears would be lucky to finish 7-9. They had no offensive line, no wide receivers, a secondary with more holes than a Michael Bay script, and a quarterback with a specialized ability to target perfectly thrown passes to the other team. After their miraculous 4-1 start, my Dad and I agreed that we would consider getting to the playoffs a wildly successful season. After they improbably clinched the division and an 11-5 record, we concurred that a single playoff victory would make the entire season worthwhile. We had no delusions of grandeur with this team. But, that's not how I feel today.

An NFL team only gets a few chances to win a Super Bowl. Just ask Peyton Manning, who's been to the playoffs eleven times and only has one Super Bowl to show for it. Or ask Tom Brady, who won three Super Bowls in first five seasons, but fell short the following six years. In fact, neither Manning's nor Brady's best team ('05 Colts, '07 Patriots) won the Lombardi Trophy.

Football is a bizarre game of chance and circumstance. A contest played by twenty-somethings with a ball that doesn't bounce straight. Crazy things happen and the best team doesn't always win. When you have a chance to win it all you need to capitalize and, despite their numerous flaws, the Bears had a fantastic opportunity to win the Super Bowl this year. They won in an unorthodox fashion - incredible special teams, opportunistic defense, and an offense that did just enough to keep Bears fans from vomiting in their mouths - but with a rock solid defense, a coaching staff that boasted four members with previous NFL head coaching experience, and only two games between them and immortality, the time was now.

Yes, Jay Cutler got injured. Yes, the defense gave up early momentum to the Packers. Yes, Todd Collins played so poorly as Cutler's replacement that they pulled him with 37 seconds remaining in the third quarter, even though it meant that if emergency back-up Caleb Hanie left the game the Bears would have to start Devin Hester at quarterback. Yes, the Bears probably didn't even deserve to be in the game in the first place. The fact remains, the Bears squandered a golden opportunity to win a Super Bowl and who knows when they'll have another chance to win it all. Dan Marino led the Dolphins to the Super Bowl his rookie year and, through the course of his Hall-of-Fame career, never made it back.

It doesn't matter whether you're the best team or the most deserving. It doesn't matter whether the breaks go your way. It doesn't matter whether you should be happy just to get as far you do. It doesn't matter whether some of your starting offensive linemen couldn't crack the starting line up for the local high school teams. It doesn't matter whether your back-up quarterback is appropriately named after an alcoholic beverage since he drives you to drink. At the end of the day, when you find yourself in the Kosrae Airport of football games, you better damn well buy the shark. Otherwise, a decade later, you could be left with an empty coffee table and an ocean of regret.

I'm pretty sure this Bears team will retool the offensive line, add some weapons to the receiving core, and return better than ever, primed for a Super Bowl run. But, I was pretty sure I could get a hand-carved wooden shark in Chuuk and my coffee table is still noticeably bare.

What a trip to McDonald's can teach you about Bears football

I took my two year-old daughter, Haley, to McDonald's this weekend. Not because I wanted to go or because I somehow enjoy feeding my daughter deep friend assemblages of hoof, beak, cartilage, and cardboard, but because she learned that a magical establishment exists that rewards her with a toy for eating delicious finger "food", dipped in brightly colored high fructose corn syrup that she can request by name. "Daddy, can we go to McDonald's, pleeeeeeeeeeeease?". As a parent, I am extremely invested in the healthy development of my child and take immense pride in her burgeoning language skills. But, let me tell you, nothing takes your parental pride down a notch quite like the realization that you've taught your child how to ask for McDonald's. (Example #3,487,247 that parenting is impossibly difficult.)

Yet, as much as I disapprove of providing my daughter access to consumable items - I refuse to call it food - that cause childhood obesity and ass cancer (Yes, I know it's called colon cancer. I just think ass cancer better encapsulates how much it sucks.), I do not want to unnecessarily elevate the status of junk food by turning it into some sort of forbidden fruit. A quarterly fast food foray is better than a twelve year-old with sexual fantasies about clowns, french fries, and chicken nuggets.

Generally, during our trips to the Golden Arches, I only buy food for Haley, but it had been three years since my last tryst with Ronald McDonald so I ordered a six-piece chicken nugget Happy Meal instead of the usual four piece meal, two extra shame nuggets for Dad.

Holy wave of nostalgia, Batman.

The nuggets tasted exactly like I remembered from my high school days, when I had the metabolism of a horny bull moose - for the record, that's approximately 47% greater than a regular bull moose - and could polish off a twenty-piece nuggets, large fries and a chocolate shake in a single sitting. A lightly crisped, toasty crust, surrounding a homogeneous, succulent, vaguely chicken-flavored chewy interior. A simple, guilty pleasure that satisfies both your hunger and inner child, provided you don't think about what actually constitutes a "McNugget".

As I watched Haley smile, play with her soon-to-be-forgotten fuzzy bear toy, and snack on french fries and nugs, I developed a grudging respect for the stalwart consistency of McDonald's. Haley doesn't know the food is bad for her. She just knows that it tastes good, she can eat it with her fingers, and she gets a cool toy. McDonald's may not be the apex of culinary arts, but they serve cheap, satisfying, reliable food, an experience that has not changed in any significant way in the past 50 years. You can malign the quality of the goods, but not the effectiveness of the product, much like the Chicago Bears.

The Chicago Bears are the McDonald's of the NFL: Never pretty and tough to swallow, but undeniably effective and staggeringly consistent. For the past 91 years, the Bears have won with a combination of defense, toughness, special teams, and rugged masculinity (I'm looking at you, Jim McMahon) that is effective, but both gut-wrenching and difficult to watch. Even the '85 Bears, the paragon of Chicago football and perhaps the greatest team of all-time, wouldn't crack any one's list of Top 25 most beautiful or exciting NFL teams.

Beauty is Montana to Rice. Beauty is Manning to Harrison. Beauty is Tom Brady to whoever-the-scrappy-white-guy-is-who-happens-to-be-catching-the-ball-today. Beauty is not running the ball 40 times a game, generating 5 turnovers, and winning 13-3. But, that's how they do it in Chicago. They win ugly.

This creates a problem of perspective, because winning ugly doesn't score you any bonus points with fans. When people think of great teams they reminisce about crisp passing offenses, flashy running plays, and high-flying wide receivers. They don't take into account the fact that a team with Devin Hester running back kicks will consistently start drives at their own 40 instead of their own 20 (or sometimes they won't even have to start drives at all when he runs the ball back for a touchdown). They don't factor in the ability of Charles Tillman to routinely punch the ball out of opposing wide receivers hands when he tackles them. But, whether we like to admit it or not, winning ugly is still winning.

Take, for example, Peyton Manning. Manning is the Whole Foods of the NFL, his offensive arsenal a buffet of delicious and nutritious local and organic options. Yet, despite his offensive wizardry, he has a 9-10 lifetime record in the post season and more home playoff losses (4) than any quarterback in NFL History. I love Peyton Manning and think he's more the victim of sub par coaching and defense than poor play, but fans and media consistently overrate Manning-led teams due to their aesthetically pleasing style of play. But, beautiful football can't compensate for sub par defense any more than offering organically grown, sustainably harvested broccoli can compensate for charging 17.95 for a floret.

Don't get me wrong, I'm not advocating for Bears football any more than I'd advocate for McDonald's. I'd far rather cheer for a team that put on a glorious, dominant display of offensive football than a team that squeaks out ridiculous, cover-your-eyes, hide-the-women-and-children wins with punt returns, tipped balls, and fumble recoveries. But I respect both for what they do and think neither gets the credit they deserve for consistently excelling because they do so in unorthodox fashion. It's time we gave the Bears and McDonald's their proper due, even if they do end in painful trips to the bathroom.

What safe sex can teach us about the NFL

I'm going to start a new running feature on the JBorhood called Barguments. It will consist of a series of short posts, each highlighting a snippet of information designed to help you sound like a genius while discussing sports around the water cooler or win an argument at a bar, a bar argument, or bargument, if you will.

Don't get me wrong. You don't need the help. The mere fact that you're reading the JBorhood suggests you possess a mighty intellect and staggering good looks, however, I'm going to kick it up a notch (the intellect, not the looks; not that you need any help, you sexy beast). That way, you can devote more of your free time to your true pleasures, like go-cart racing, monkey jousting, and dispensing spirit tasting information while drinking vodka in the shower.

You can thank me later.

Today's topic: Does running the football more increase a team's likelyhood of winning?

The short answer? No.

The mere act of handing the ball to the running back again and again does nothing to help a team's chance of winning. In fact, the frequency of almost any event, except for scoring and turning over the ball, has virtually no effect on the probability of winning or losing. The effectiveness of each action, not the action itself, is the determinant of success in football.

The New England Patriots are streamrolling the entire NFL with an offense that views running the football the way I view getting a colonoscopy. Meanwhile, the Kansas City Chiefs are improbably leading the AFC West with an offense that passes the ball for the sole purpose of giving their running backs a breather. These offenses succeed through superior execution, not a devotion to a specific type of play.

This should be clear. But it's not.

Week after week, football commentators regurgitate the same misguided idea that struggling teams need to run the football more because, on average, winning teams average more rushing attempts than losing teams. And that's a legitimate truth. This year's top four teams in rushing attempts -- Kansas City, New York Jets, Jacksonville, and Atlanta -- are a combined 37-15. The bottom four -- Denver, Seattle, Washington and Arizona -- are a combined 18-34. And it's the same story every year. Winning teams rush the football more than losing teams. So it's understandable why people jump to the conclusion that teams should rush the ball more often if they want to win.

But this brings us to the idea of correlation vs. causation. Correlation is a relationship between two variables. When one changes, we see a corresponding change in the other. Causation goes a step further. It says that one of the variables is responsible for the change in the other.

For example, when I was in college, a strong correlation existed between my prophylactic use and the frequency with which I got laid. Clearly, my Trojan application was a direct result of getting lucky. When I got laid, I used protection. When I didn't, I wasn't strutting around my dorm room ready for action (as far as you know, anyway). But, if I'd been friends with an NFL announcer in college, they would have no doubt suggested that I start each day by putting on a Durex Pleasuremax (for the record, I had to Google that) before my boxers, since every day I used a condom I ended up with a lady in bed.

Now, think of NFL Teams winning as getting laid and running the football as the application of a prophylactic. Teams don't win the game because they wear protection, err... run the football. They run the football because they win games.

When a team is winning, it wants to take care of the football and run out the clock. The safest way to do that is to run the football. Running reduces the chance of turnovers and keeps the clock moving on every play. The more a team is ahead, the more they'll run. It's that simple.

Granted, there are certainly situations where teams need to run the ball more. Mike Martz tried to turn this year's Chicago Bears into the 1999 St. Louis Rams before realizing they had the offensive line of the 1999 St. Louis Crusaders (In fairness to the Crusaders, they had a better O-line). When he eventually called more running plays, it gave the offense more balance, slowed down the pass rush of the defense and gave Jay Cutler (some) time to throw the football.

But that's the exception, not the rule.

The next time someone tells you that their favorite team needs to run the ball more to win, tell them about correlation, tell them about causation, and tell them about how using more condoms won't help them get laid. On second though, maybe you should just stick to the statistics.

The Bear Essentials

Want to know the Super Bowl implications of the Bears signing Julius Peppers?

Want to know what the signing of Chester Taylor means for the Matt Forte era?

Are you just trying to figure out how to pronounce Manumaleuna?

Then, my friends, you've come to the right place. I sat down with JBorhood podcast regular Matt Kolsky this Wednesday to help sort through the biggest free agent signing period in Bears history. In the process, we touch on the Ben Roethelesburger (I don't know if I spelled that right and, frankly, I don't care) scandal, the state of the Arizona Cardinals, and Robert DeNiro's newest ESPN project.

So sit back, relax, and get your pod on.

JBorhood Podcast - Bears Talk - 03/08/2010

Jay Cutler Episode 1: The Phantom Menace

To this day, I have never anticipated the release of a movie more than when George Lucas released Star Wars Episode One: The Phantom Menace in May of 1999.

The movie was released on a Wednesday, but I was a senior in High School with only a few weeks left before graduation, so my buddies and I left school early to see the first showing. We waited in line for six hours. I won a pair of gold earrings in a Star Wars voice impersonation contest for my impression of Jabba the Hut. By the time we got our seats, the lights dimmed, the curtains raised, and the John Williams soundtrack came blasting through the speakers, I could have used a change of underwear.

But then the movie happened.
Little Anakin happened.
Jar Jar happened.

To put it bluntly, the movie sucked. It was a poorly acted, poorly edited, ill-contrived, turd of a film that bore little resemblance to its predecessors (or my expectations). I tried to justify and make excuses for the movie (“The pod racing sequence was mildly enjoyable.” “The five minutes of Darth Maul didn’t totally suck.” “Maybe Jar Jar gets eaten by a Rancor in the sequel.”), but I couldn’t escape the fact that it was a let down on virtually every level.

In fact, it was so bad that it completely soured me on the Star Wars Prequel Trilogy. I didn’t see Episode 2: Attack of the Clones until it came out on video. To this day, I still haven’t watched Episode 3: Last of the Bastard Children (paraphrased) despite insistence from all my friends that it is the best of the three. As far as I’m concerned, the prequels never happened (just like the second and third Matrix movies and Michael Jordan’s comeback with the Wizards).

Sadly, I’m beginning to feel that way about the 2009 Chicago Bears football season.

All summer long I had a fever, and the only prescription was more Cutler. I read every article I could get my hands on. I wrote a piece for the JBorhood that wavered between ecstatic and first-time-I-got-laid levels of excitement. I put a Google News alert on “Jay Cutler”. I even bought a new set of knives because they were Cutco. (Ok, not really, but I thought about it.) By the end of the pre-season, my obsessive devotion to all things Cutler would likely have qualified as grounds for a restraining order.

Suffice to say, I have never been more excited for a regular season Bears game than I was this past Sunday Night. First game of the season, in prime time, against the arch-rival Packers, with the Bears first legitimate starting quarterback since the Lincoln Administration, by the time the Bears kicked-off, I could have used a change of underwear.

But then the game happened.
Brian Urlacher happened.
Jay Cutler happened.

By the time Monday morning rolled around, the Bears were two games behind their main division rivals (by virtue of head to head tiebreaker), without their best defensive player for the season, and wondering if Jay Cutler is really just Rex Grossman with a diva complex. With the defending Super Bowl Champion Steelers coming to town on Sunday, Bears faithful are preparing to channel their inner Cub fan and “wait til next year”, less than two weeks into a season many thought would end in a Super Bowl.

Sigh.

I’m sure Bears fans won’t receive any sympathy from Patriots Nation, who lost Tom Brady to a season-ending knee injury in the first half of last year’s opening game.

I’m sure Lions fans would trade places with Bears fans in a heart beat as they wait for the Lions to break their current 18 game losing streak.

But, frankly, no other group of fans knows the pain that Bears fans are suffering today. Because, after 59 years of offensive ineptitude, 59 years of ignoring the most important position in all of sports, 59 years of embracing the forward pass like Kanye West embraces grace and dignity, the Bears were finally supposed to have a Quarterback.

And maybe they still do. Calling the Jay Cutler era a regrettable period after only one game is laughably premature even for me (and that’s saying something).

But Sunday was supposed to be the first day of the rest of our lives. The day we could finally sit at the big kids table. The day we could laugh at other teams’ Quarterback controversies. The day we could buy a Bears jersey for a player that didn’t play linebacker, running back, or return specialist. The day when the words “woefully inefficient” made us think of American automakers, instead of our beloved football team.

Instead, we’re left wondering whether our defense can rally around each other and overcome the loss of their physical and emotional leader and whether our franchise savior can throw the ball as effectively to our own team as he can the opposition.

For the record, I think they will.

The Bears defense is too deep and too talented to let the loss of one player, no matter how important, affect their ability to harass opposing offenses.

And, Jay Cutler only has to make mild improvements to win the hearts and minds of Bears fans. It won’t take a miracle to make us forget about Rex Grossman. The Bears Quarterback legacy isn’t exactly Star Wars. If Jay Cutler’s touchdown to interception ratio resembles the number of times I’ve sworn I’ll never drink tequila again (two, as of last week Friday) instead of the percent of last week Friday I remember, he’ll look like Citizen Kane in comparison.

So I’m going to tune in to Sunday’s game against the Steelers. And I’ll watch the next week’s trip to Seattle. Hell, I’ll even stick around for the following game against the Lions (because it’s always fun to watch the Lions get thrown to the lions).

But if the Bears haven’t turned their season around by that point and Jay Cutler hasn’t stopped his noble attempt to honor the legacy of Rex Grossman, I’ll watch Star Wars Episode 3 before I watch another Bears game this season.

Cutlermania!

Holy shit! The Chicago Bears have a starting quarterback!

I was totally prepared to write a 2009 Major League Baseball Season Preview last Thursday, when the Bears dropped a bomb on my world. After 60 years of offensive ineptitude, the Bears finally stopped ignoring the most important position in football and traded for a twenty five year old franchise quarterback in a moment that was like my Birthday, Christmas, and the first time I got laid all rolled into one. (To be fair, the first time I got laid was a little uncomfortable and awkward for all involved, but it was still a great day.)

I tried to write a celebratory article, however, my mind was trapped in a football themed “Being John Malkovich” sequel, “Being Jay Cutler”, and the only thing I could say was “Jay Cutler”. Here’s the introduction to my first draft:

JAY CUTLER!!!!

Jay Cutler, Jay Cutlerjay Cutler. Jay Cutler! Jay cut lerJaycu tler JayCut ler, Jay!

Jay.

Cutler.

JAY CUTLERJAYCUTLERJAYCUTLER!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

(The article went on like this for 47 pages, culminating in seven straight pages of exclamation points. Like I said, I was fairly excited.)

When I regained my grip on reality, I got out of the ditch, washed off the blue and orange body paint, put on some clothes, apologized to Kahala Mall security, and started to come to terms with the fact that life as a Bears fan would never be the same. You see, Chicago sports fans accept a few unassailable facts:

• The White Sox are irrelevant.
• The Cubs always lose.
• The Bears never have a quarterback.
  

These things are not up for debate. They just are. Ask any Bears fan to tell you the last great Bears quarterback and they’ll almost invariably say, “Sid Luckman”. (Sorry, Jim McMahon fans. McMahon was a great character, a fabulous leader, and a bad ass mofo, but not a great quarterback. Sadly, the NFL does not award points due to one’s ability to rock a headband or don a sweet pair of shades.) But who the hell is Sid Luckman? Did anyone ever see Sid Luckman play? Did he really exist? For all I know, Sid Luckman is someone a couple drunk Bears fans made up at a bar one night after getting sick of the incessant teasing from Packer fans.

Packers Fan: “The Bears suck! They’ve never had a great quarterback and they never will!”

Drunken Bears Fan #1: “Oh, yeah? What about Sid Luckman???”

Drunken Bears Fan #2: “Sid Who?”

Drunken Bears Fan #1 (under his breath): “Shut up, dude. Just play along.”

Drunken Bears Fan #2: “Oh, Yeah! Sid Luckman is the greatest quarterback who ever lived!!! He could throw the ball 200 yards, cure cancer, and blow up sheep with mind bullets. If he were alive right now, he’d beat you to death with your own hands and distill Single Malt Scotch from your liver.”

Packers Fan: “Wow. I wish I was a Bears fan.”

Drunken Bears Fan #1: “At least you’re not a Lions fan.”

(Hearty laughter is shared by all.)

According to Sid Luckman’s Wikipedia page, which features a photo that looks like someone pasted Marlon Brando’s face on a football player’s body, Luckman retired in 1950. That means the Bears played without a legitimate starter at the game’s most important position for over 50 years!
During that time, Bears fans had to endure:

• Cade McNown, who was about 4 feet tall.
• Jim Miller, whose best attribute was his ability to grow a really sweet beard.
• Henry Burris, who, I kid you not, threw the ball with his eyes closed.
• Erik Kramer, who spells his name with a ‘k’ like a sissy girl, which tells you everything you need to know.
• Chad Hutchinson, who I truly believe came to Chicago because the coaching staff told him he could surf on Lake Michigan.
• Rex Grossman, about whom enough has been said.
• Craig Krenzel, whose GPA was approximately equal to his quarterback rating.
• Mike Tomczak, whose game was, comically, worse than his name.
• Peter Tom Willis, who has half as many names (three) as touchdowns thrown (six).
• Jonathan Quinn, whose only discernible skill was launching the ball 15 feet over a receiver’s head.
  

(And that’s just who I can remember off the top of my head…)

I’d say that Bears quarterbacks set offensive football back 50 years. But, apparently 50 years ago, the Bears had someone that could actually run an offense.

The sad fact is that I’ve never cheered for a good Bears quarterback in my entire life.
Until now…

Now, everything has changed. Rather than talking myself into the Kyle Orton era and championing the subtle sexiness of the neck beard, (Editor’s note: If you doubt the chick repelling power of the neck beard just threaten to grow one the next time you’re hanging around that trick you can’t seem to get rid of…problem solved.) I get to watch Jay Cutler fire 30-yard strikes to Devin Hester with his laser rocket arm. And all the Bears had to give up were two first round draft picks (2009, 2010), a third round draft pick (2009), and a Quarterback whose deep ball pales in comparison to his neck beard (Editor’s note: ha-ha, he said deep ball). (In all fairness, most things pale in comparison to his neck beard.)

Like any trade, certain pundits (read: morons) say the Bears “paid a high price” for Culter or “gave up too much” for Cutler, but that idea is, frankly, hilarious. Jay Cutler is a 25 year old franchise quarterback, coming off of a Pro-Bowl season. Players like that aren’t traded for draft picks. Players like that aren’t traded at all. If the Bears called the Broncos and offered two first round picks and a third round pick for Cutler a month ago, they would have heard five minutes of unabated laughter. Now, the only laughter you hear is coming from Chicago.

The Bears gave up two first round picks?

So. What.

Let’s review the Bears first round selections under current General Manager, Jerry Angelo.

2001 – David Terrell, WR, Michigan (Toss up whether he was a bigger bust or asshole.)

2002 – Marc Colombo, OT, Boston College (Started ten games before suffering a season ending injury, after which he started only two games for the Bears.)

2003 – Alex Haynes, DE, Penn State & Rex Grossman, QB, Florida (Or, as I like to call it, 2Busts 1Year.)

2004 – Tommie Harris, DT, Oklahoma (A legitimate All-Pro, who is now a broken shell of his former self after suffering a knee injury in 2006.)

2005 – Cedric Benson, RB, Texas (The heir apparent to Ricky Williams in every possible way.)

2006 – No pick (Hey, if you don’t pick, you can’t screw it up.)

2007 – Greg Olsen, TE, Miami (A solid offensive contributor.)

2008 – Chris Williams, OT, Vanderbilt (Injured before playing any games in 2008.)

To recap, that’s one Pro Bowl player, one legitimate offensive starter, and six abject failures in eight years. So, thank you very much, Denver. Enjoy the draft picks.

But I’m not done. In fact, I’m just getting started.

Let’s imagine, for argument’s sake, that Denver’s rookie General Manager, Brian Xanders, whose first move on the job was hiring a 32 year old head coach who immediately fired the offensive coordinator and alienated the Pro Bowl Quarterback from the NFL’s second ranked offense, might do a better job evaluating talent then the Bears. According to reports, Xanders is considering trading the Broncos and Bears 2009 first round picks to move up and select USC Quarterback Mark Sanchez.

Now, we can safely assume that the Broncos 2009 first round pick is worth more than the Bears 2010 first round pick. In fact, we can probably assume that it’s worth more than the Bears 2010 first round pick and 2009 third round pick combined.

What does this mean?

It means the Broncos are considering trading more for Mark Sanchez than they received for Jay Cutler.

Game. Set. Match.

Thanks for playing, Denver. Write if you find work.

So while the Broncos begin the search for the successor to the successor to John Elway, the Bears begin to learn what they’ve been missing all these years.

I suppose in a town that hasn’t won a World Series for 108 years, 50 years can be considered a victory.