Why Men Can Only Do One Thing At A Time

 & Women Never Stop Talking

AKA “White Chick Talks Football”

   Yes, it’s June and yes, I’m just now writing about the travesty called Superbowl 07. I had to wait four months before I could think about writing.

 And still, with fingers on the keyboard, I feel a big “Wahhhh!” coming on. Or at least a clog in my throat. Probably it’s late spring allergies.

 Late spring allergies which attacked after I came out of a long hibernation. I finally peeked from my safe place in the closet to watch The Bears lose The Game.

I was told it was safe to watch. The Bears were coming out of the season 10:3. And, I was told, you have to see their defense – it’s back.

 Back from where?

 Certainly not from the twenty years ago golden time when the defense was impermeable. 

 My eyes mist from the memories of the early 80’s when the team consisted of, just to name a few, Mike Singletary, Dan Hampton, Steve McMichael, Walter Payton, the Refrigerator, and yes, I’m going to mention him, Jim McMahon (Back off! I liked him. I liked him when his arm was working and his butt wasn’t sore, that is. He was stellar when he was in his prime.) 

The team was a gathering of the gods and if you called me back then during a game, I didn’t answer the phone. I was dusting off my TV and pulling if from the closet to plug it in and watch the game. Undisturbed. I only answered it when my then boyfriend-now husband called and after getting so many single word answers (grunts) from me—okay, so maybe one time I set the phone down during a great McMahon-last- minute-save-the-game-play and I forgot to pick the phone back up when the play was over—my boyfriend got to the root of my distraction and has teased me about it ever since.

Not much to tease me about lately though. Ever since most of the ‘80’s defense retired and left the team with Tomczak, then Flutie, I hit for the closet and only peek at the standings every so often. I don’t look at all during really bad seasons.

But then the 06/07 season rolled in and The Bears made it to the Superbowl. Be still my heart—it was quivering with fear because The Bears, Lovie Smith, and Grossman were going up against Payton Manning. How strong was The Bears defense? I wasn’t convinced. While watching the last few games of the season, I saw holes. And as cruel as life is with its love of change, there will never be a defense like what The Bears had in the 80’s. Of course, the positive side to that is there will never be as bad a time as the period directly following the golden 80’s. It was then that, after watching more turnovers at the hands of Tomczak than was believable, I tucked the TV into the storage and did what all good womenfolk do—bake.

And life rolled along. I got married, had kids, and developed a newfound interest in the television again because it bought me an hour or two of down time while the kids paused to stare at the Teletubbies.

It was while passing through the living room when the TV was on that The Horrible Thing happened. Right before my eyes, one of The Bears gods fell off his pedestal, crashing into a million pieces and making a painful, deafening, splintering sound I’ll never forget.

Mike Ditka got on national TV and told the world about his…choke, cough, …erectile dysfunction problem. (Or E.D. for those of you big on acronyms.)

Lord almighty, nothing is sacred!

In my opinion, there are two people and only two people in the world Mike should have confessed this to: his physician and his wife. And probably not even his wife because action, or nonaction in his case, would be self-evident. 

What was he thinking? Remember when he took a wad of chewing gum out of his mouth and threw it at a sports heckler, hitting him in the face with it and then getting sued later?  Who would have guessed that a decade or so later, he’d have no problem with selling his soul in a commercial to talk about his, um, E.D..

How much did they pay him to be in that commercial? If it wasn’t over 10 million dollars, it wasn’t enough.

Because he effectively nailed his coaching career coffin shut and wrapped it with chains as far as I’m concerned.  Who in their right mind can see him in another locker room, in front of men the size of Angus bulls, trying to command their respect as he pushes his leadership when most of them are sitting there wondering if he can get it up yet? Bye-bye, tough guy image. Whoosh! goes the toilet.

But Mike’s personal limitations don’t concern The Bears. I just wish they’d concern themselves with getting a decent offense and a stronger defense.  Because I’m secretly an optimist, even when sitting through the painful Superbowl game, suffering along with Rex Grossman as he tried to figure out how to hang onto the ball during The Great Flood (who can forget the look on his face after the play where he effectively sacked himself in the pouring rain?), I think that some time before I die, the golden 80’s will happen again. 

Apparently not any time soon though. While flipping through a recent Sports Illustrated, I doubled back to Jeffri Chadiha’s article about draft choices. Then grouched to my husband afterward about what I’d read. Here’s Jeffri Chadiha’s grade for The Bears draft choice:

‘TE Greg Olsen of Miami should give QB Rex Grossman a much-needed receiver option , but the NFC champs could have used another playmaker.’

He gave them a grade of “C”.

“C” indeedy.

After more bitching and moaning from me, my husband says, “Okay, pretend you’re running the show and you have a choice between a top notch linebacker and a top notch quarterback—if you’re thinking like a Bear—who are you going to pick?”

“Quarterback.”

“You’re not thinking like a Bear.”

Probably not. Especially not when no matter how good The Bears defense is, and I greatly appreciate a good defense, there’s no way in tarnation they can clean house if they can’t score. I rest my case by saying “Tomczak.”

And after I say that…I’ll go back into the closet. I’ll peek somewhere around the next mid-season and see if it’s safe to come out, kind of like a groundhog does. If you see my shadow, it means I’m out, not answering the phone during game time, and things are looking up for The Bears.