Hope; or - Who's Allowed to Be Happy?

 
The Chicago Bears walked into the locker room at the end of their first game with Ben Johnson as head coach after a loss to an NFC rival in the final moments of the one-score game to thunderous boos echoing through Soldier Field. Fans left in droves even before the clock ran out, leaving the stadium and feeling of the game as worryingly hollow.

The Chicago Bears walked into the locker room at the end of their final game of the season with Ben Johnson as head coach after a loss to an NFC rival in the final moments of the one-score game to thunderous cheers echoing through Soldier Field. Fans stayed long after the clock ran out, entire sections giving a roaring standing ovation of appreciation, leaving the stadium, and the season, with a feeling of hope.

But what makes this season so special, now that the lights are off and the door is shut, with the Bears' playoff wins over the past 15 years going from 0 to just 1? How did a fanbase go from booing their head coach in his first game to giving him and his team a standing ovation after a loss? In some ways, it's hard to explain. Was it the respectable 11 wins in the regular season, the most since 2018? Was it the passing offense with our second-year QB (in his first year in the system) putting up 27 touchdowns (4th in Bears history), over 3,900 yards (most in Bears history), and 1.2% interception rate (the most impressive of the three)?

Was it the frankly inspiring performance of the Bears defense to stare down the best offense in the NFL, helmed by a hall-of-fame offensive genius coach, a hall-of-fame QB, in the biggest moment of the past 15 years, and refuse to blink?

Was it the astonishing number of heroic fourth quarters totalling six game-winning fourth quarter comeback drives? (The NFL record is 8, guys, earned by that Hall of Fame QB we were facing in his 8th season). 

Something funny happens when the Bears are bad. Announcers and media folks who either too dumb to know better, or pretending to be, wave their hands and talk about how fans don't care about a Bears team this bad. It would be understandable not to care about a bears team. Advisible, even. But no. Bears fans don't pack a stadium and give thunderous boos because they don't care. Vitriol isn't the opposite of reverence - they're both flavors of obsession, the opposite of which is apathy. But despite their best efforts, despite the idiotic head coaching hires, despite forcing us to endure John Fox's croaking pet monkey stories, despite making us watch in horror as the reigns to the franchise are put in the hands of old football crank-in-chief Bill Polian, despite daring us to look away as they picked up the most talented player in the most important position in Bears history and handed him directly over to an out-of-his-depth, rambling gym teacher—

—despite all reason, Bears fans still care. We care so much, the moment things start to turn around for the team, the entire city unites in celebration.

Weiner Circle was handing out hot dogs, and this was a national news story. Mentions of shirtless Ben Johnson will be shared around dinner tables for decades to come. One decisive win against the Eagles, and folks are holding hands and signing with a unity that would make the Grinch have an aneurism.

No, this Bears season was greater than the sum of its parts. In the words of one of our cultures' most important critics—

“I think one of the worst things a franchise ending can do is make you feel kind of stupid and embarrassed for being so excited about it in the first place.”

And unfortunately, far too many times, for far too long, the Bears dared you to care before brazenly punishing you for doing so. They invited you to their birthday party before staring you in the eye and shitting on the cake. Despite all reason not to, us weirdos who love the Chicago Bears couldn't help but care, and the result is we felt kind of stupid and embarrassed for years at a time.

This season wasn't just about the impressive record, it wasn't about the passing stats, it wasn't about finally having players worth cheering for, or even the place in the record books for fourth quarter comeback wins. The Bears, finally, improbably, after all this time, are worth being excited about in the first place.

If the zeitgeist is any indication, from the Ice Man sculptures to the news segments to the literal pope drawing attention to this special, special era of Bears football, there are thousands, millions of people who, all this time later, still have hope - still can't can't help but care. 

And now, finally, the Bears are worth it.