NOT SO GRATE
Jim McMahon said, "If you play hard for Chicago, they'll love you. And if you play hard and win, they'll love you forever."
The excitement and anticipation in my beautiful city was electrifying last night. I did not think anything was overdone. This is the 100 year anniversary of our Monsters of the Midway. The Chicago Tribune ran the 100 top players over 100 days. WGN aired Jared Payton's one hour tribute to his dad. The John Hancock was depicted as a cheese grater on our skyline. Statues of Walter Payton and Papa Hallas were unveiled. Meteorologists analyzed the effect a three degree drop in temp would have on our new kicker. Broadcasters dressed like old press reporters. Grant Park was transformed into a Chicago Bears arena with live performances by Meghan Trainor and Meek Mill. My sister, who works for Soldier Field, was sending us pictures of a jammed stadium enveloped in a beautiful September sky.
And none of it seemed over the top for me. I even got permission from my administration to wear my Urlacher jersey to school. If the Bears won, my students could bring coffee and candy to class. My students wrote original metaphors about the Bears-Packers rivalry.
And then . . .
The lamest game ended in a 10-3 snorefest. I read a few tweets and news snippets on who to blame: Nagy or Trubisky. Everyone at work felt the same way: we all sacrificed at least an hour of sleep to watch the game just to be devastated. Grumblings and pissed off nods were exchanged as we passed each other in the halls with our buckets of Dunkin Donuts coffee.
Is Jim right? We love our athletes for just playing hard? Or do they need to win?
My colleague Scott, clad in his GREEN BAY shirt today (a native Wisconsonian) explained that this is the new NFL: when none of the starters play during the pre-season, the opening games are going to stink. He encouraged me to keep my head up.
We have over a week to grieve and do it all over again.
The excitement and anticipation in my beautiful city was electrifying last night. I did not think anything was overdone. This is the 100 year anniversary of our Monsters of the Midway. The Chicago Tribune ran the 100 top players over 100 days. WGN aired Jared Payton's one hour tribute to his dad. The John Hancock was depicted as a cheese grater on our skyline. Statues of Walter Payton and Papa Hallas were unveiled. Meteorologists analyzed the effect a three degree drop in temp would have on our new kicker. Broadcasters dressed like old press reporters. Grant Park was transformed into a Chicago Bears arena with live performances by Meghan Trainor and Meek Mill. My sister, who works for Soldier Field, was sending us pictures of a jammed stadium enveloped in a beautiful September sky.
And none of it seemed over the top for me. I even got permission from my administration to wear my Urlacher jersey to school. If the Bears won, my students could bring coffee and candy to class. My students wrote original metaphors about the Bears-Packers rivalry.
And then . . .
The lamest game ended in a 10-3 snorefest. I read a few tweets and news snippets on who to blame: Nagy or Trubisky. Everyone at work felt the same way: we all sacrificed at least an hour of sleep to watch the game just to be devastated. Grumblings and pissed off nods were exchanged as we passed each other in the halls with our buckets of Dunkin Donuts coffee.
Is Jim right? We love our athletes for just playing hard? Or do they need to win?
My colleague Scott, clad in his GREEN BAY shirt today (a native Wisconsonian) explained that this is the new NFL: when none of the starters play during the pre-season, the opening games are going to stink. He encouraged me to keep my head up.
We have over a week to grieve and do it all over again.
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