On the John
A bit of the old ultraviolence
Originally completed October 25, 2010
If this were A Clockwork Orange, we would be at the scene where the man says,
“Choice! The boy has no real choice, has he? Self-interest. The fear of physical pain drove him to that grotesque act of pretending he does not care about the Chicago Bears. Its insincerity was clearly to be seen…”
Chaplain Charlie speaks the truth. We have no real choice in the matter. We’re paralyzed in our lives, unable to change brains or eyes or allegiances. Here I am on my couch with my team and my offensive line, yet could I not have been born in another city to another family, thus one day sitting on another couch where the professional football team of “choice” employs five large men who can pass block? Sure.
A quick scan of the big board clearly illustrates that Week 7 of the 2010 NFL season was one of High Scores and Big Plays, provided you were raised someplace other than Chicago. A boy born in Oakland in November of 1981, for instance, would approach his 29th birthday with the surprise of 59 points and a W over the hated Denver Broncos. I bet that was a really wonderful time.
In Atlanta, the Falcons scored 39 points while keeping their quarterback upright and conscious. In Tennessee, the victorious Titans scored 37 points, totaling four touchdowns, including, yes, three on offense. In Baltimore, the Ravens managed four offensive touchdowns of their own, plus another three field goals, including one in overtime that brought smiles to the faces of all those who happened to live in Baltimore.
Meanwhile, over in Kansas City, our pal Manky watched his football team pour in 42 points and a win over Jacksonville, where our other pal Thomas Jones was so washed-up and ineffective that he ran for 165 yards on 20 carries with a touchdown, despite being five years older than the youthful, full-of-promise Cedric Benson.
Ah, old bitterness. Let go of Super Bowl XLI, the voice tells me. So what if your team was cremated by a bunch of dome-sweet-dome carpet pansies on national television in America’s most famous sporting event? So what if Mr. Jones would have won that game, or at least made it respectable, had Mr. Turner given him the ball more than 15 freaking times? So the F what??
Control yourself. Repeat the mantra. It’s just a game… it’s just a game…
Right. It’s not your face getting smashed into the turf every time JaMedwin Robertolinouis Omiyaffer Williams misses an assignment. So why fret? Have another Snackwell, man!
The most mind-boggling stat of this 2010 Chicago Bears season is easily the team’s big, fat ofer on ten plays at the opponent’s one-yard line. That stretch of stagnation continued yesterday when Jay Cutler FUMBLED ON A QUARTERBACK SNEAK, pro football’s third least difficult play to execute properly after a spike to stop the clock and a kneel down.
However, the scariest stat of this 2010 Chicago Bears season continues to be the rate at which Big Jay is sacked. 51 sacks in 37 games as a Bronco, 62 sacks in 22 games as a Bear. When standing, Cutler is capable of throwing one of the strongest, prettiest, most accurate, most deadly balls in the league. He showed as much on his brilliant TD strike to Johnny Knox late in the second quarter, a drive in which Cutler completed all seven of his passes for 59 yards. He did this by standing on his Feet, scanning the field with his Eyes, and throwing the ball before the defense could knock him over.
Fortunately for Cutler, the four sacks he would endure on this day were behind him. Unfortunately, the four picks he would throw lay ahead. Cutler looked positively dazed and shell shocked throughout the game, a totally normal look in the eyes assuming you suffer from severe head injuries. Keep this up, and Cutler may soon be petitioning the NFL to wear his red “no contact” practice jersey to the games.
He didn’t worry much about that in Denver, no sir. The air might be thin, but the skies are blue and the linemen block and sixteen times a year the quarterback walks onto and off of the field under his own power. Nobody cares how green the grass looks from the other side when laying on it for the 62nd time in 22 games.
Jack M Silverstein is a freelance writer covering music, sports, and community in Chicago. His first book, “Our President,” is available at Amazon.com. Say hey at twitter/readjack or facebook/readjack.
COME BACK THE DAY AFTER EVERY 2010 BEARS GAME for a new column from Jack M Silverstein, right here at readjack.com
WEEK 1: Once a Bears fan…
WEEK 2: 2-0 and beyond the infinite
WEEK 4: Column canceled due to vicarious concussion
WEEK 5: Sacked, slimed, and feeling fine
WEEK 6: The blink of an eye