I don’t know what to say about the Bears loss in the Super Bowl, other than that it was a game they could have won. Unlike most years, the game wasn’t a blowout, and despite the numbers that kept accumulating to show a lopsided contest, they were only down 5 when Rex Grossman tossed the beachball down the sidelines that got picked off. Yeah, they got manhandled by the Colts, but the score was still close, and the defense still did OK in the Red Zone in spite of their seeming eagerness to get there.
So, without a doubt, they screwed a pooch they didn’t have to. And wait til next year? Sure, fine, whatever. It ain’t gonna happen. Between trades, injuries and other NFC teams likely to improve, the Bears can’t assume anything for the near future.
* Sure liked Prince and his Hattie-McDaniel-meets-Dick-Tracy-Gangster get up. Did he have a band or were those just stagehands back there? Like those Japanese stagehands that dress all in black so you are supposed to ignore them. And boy, didn’t his equipment look a lot bigger when that back-lit sheet went up?
* Thanks to the loss, I owe a friend of mine in Naptown a pizza. AND, I have to go down there to serve it. There must be a Godfather’s down there somewhere, right?
* My favorite crowd pic: David Spade in a baggy in the rain. If someone set that bag on an old man’s doorstep, lit it and rang the doorbell, it’d be Halloween again.
* Memo to CareerBuilder.com: the new commercials suck. Bring back the monkeys.
* Memo to Budweiser: Your best commercial last night was the one with the gorillas. By far. CareerBuilder, take note.
* In the past two postseasons, I’ve been lucky enough to watch my favorite teams exceed expectations. The White Sox won, the Bears lost, and the Tigers never bothered to show up.
* And now it’s only eight days until pitchers and catchers report to spring training. To get in the spirit, go here and join our Barry Bonds limerick contest. Winner gets the cream and the clear, but I won’t tell you where.