Yesterday, I came downstairs at halftime of the Bears game—with the Bears down 31-7 to the Arizona Cardinals—and announced, "I fucking hate football."
Of course, the Bears came back and made it interesting, before a Jay Cutler interception ripped my heart out again. The good news is, my eyes are open and my hope is officially crushed. No more thinking things might work out. My team officially sucks. I'll still watch, but now I can just sit back and be critical, which is much more entertaining than waiting for a crappy team to finally fulfill its crappy destiny.
In fact, last week, one of Tickle's friends, Grumpy Fog, said he was quitting the Bears completely. (Keep in mind this was after a 30-6 Bears win, which is why he's Grumpy Fog.) Grumpy Fog decided that life was too short to watch a football franchise that was not only headed in the wrong direction, but had been headed in the wrong direction for most of his life. This set off a round of discussion of what Fog would actually do on his Sundays—he didn't say—and a plea from our friend Smoke, who often can't see Bears games because he lives in Vegas. "Fog, don't do this. Where am I going to get my grumpy Bears news?"
The other good side is that grumpiness tends to fertilize comedy, and I find it much easier to write about the Bears when I'm mad. My latest blog post has Jay Cutler begging Denver to take him back.
It could be worse. I have been watching the Detroit Lions this year as well, with a friend who is a lifelong Lions fan. After the Bears debacle, I was happy for him as the Lions raced out to a 17-0 first-quarter lead at Seattle, before being outscored 32-3 in the next three quarters. He just kind of sat there and laughed it off, because, you know, it's the Lions. I sadly suspect I'm going to be in that same place for the next few years.