The Day After...

Since there will be two weeks of non-stop coverage for Super Bowl XLI and it seems entirely possible that it could drive me absolutely insane, I figured I’d just say a couple things now and just do my best to put it out of mind until Feburary 4th. So this is all I’m going to write about the Bears until then. I’m obviously excited. I’m obviously grateful. I’m also obviously going to grow a mustache for the Big Game. These are givens. But what seems just out of reach, what I can’t really wrap my mind around is how everything went down the way it did. The sack on Brees as the fumble squirted down the field. Robbie Gould making things count. Reggie Bush taunting Urlacher before leaping into the endzone. The Safety. The snow falling as it began to sink in. Bernard Berrian rolling backwards into a touchdown. Everything about it is crystalized in my memory. The most complete Sunday afternoon of them all.

I decided to watch the game over at Bauer’s place a couple of blocks away. I figured in the event that we lost, I could just turn my phone off and sulk back to my place, turn off the lights and remain in the fetal position for a few days. On Sunday morning, I woke up at 7:30am and just watched the snow fall for about an hour. Silent. It was possibly the most anxious I’ve ever felt when I didn’t have something important I was actually going to be doing (after all, I’d just be sitting and drinking for the lion’s share of the day). So even though I only got 5 hours of sleep, I felt good. Ready. As I brushed my teeth, I turned on the radio and I’m informed of these three facts: The Bears have practiced all week outdoors. The Saints have practiced all week indoors. It’s going to be 20 degrees at kickoff with high probabilities for snow and freezing rain. I watched my Bears 85 tape and did some breathing exercises. I played Madden. Virtual Grossman looked ready. That was a good enough sign for me.

To be honest, the actual game felt like a lucid dream. It felt like it took 30 minutes to play even though my mind knows it took much longer, the same way a dream plays with your ability to accurately recall time once you wake up. I was emotionally drained after the final seconds ticked off the clock. I spent the next hour flipping between the Pats/Colts game and the Bears Postgame show. Nothing seemed real. I had a head full of good beer and bourbon and a couch to myself. I melted into the moment. After Asante Samuel did a pick-6 to put the Patriots up 21-3 before the end of the half I began to nod off. I dreamt about a Super Bowl XX rematch and how great it would be to vanquish New England again. To roll them up again, a lot to a little. To stamp out the dynasty once and for all. To put an end to the well documented Brady/Belichick big game genius party. I woke up in the 4th quarter to a tie ballgame, rubbed my eyes and then watched the Colts finish ‘em off.

So here I am, a day later. Still not sure what to do with myself. And now I gotta grow a healthy aversion for Peyton Manning out of a pre-existing casual indifference. It’s really too bad. He seems like such a nice fella in all those commercials. Such is life.
Go Bears.