I'm sure you're all relieved to find a Bears post that bitches about neither the Sex Cannon nor Cedric Benson. "Finally," you'll say, "how many different ways can he find to bitch about the eternal suck-itude of Grossman and Benson?" The answer is 74. But I'll leave them for another day.
The letter for today, kids, is D, as in "defense," or "decaying," or "decrepitude," or "dojo." Eli Manning is not the quarterback who should be carving up the Bears on two straight drives to come back and win a game. If it's going to be anyone, it may as well be Brett the Vicodin Man; we hate him enough already, and frankly, at this point we expect him to do it. But Little Bro Eli? Of the New York Football Giants? Unacceptable. How many passes can be completed in the middle of the field, where allegedly the defensive scheme places our fantastic linebackers, supposedly to cover receivers and tight ends between the hashmarks? In past years, I would say zero, and add a number of internally bleeding receivers with liver punctures as payment for their hubris.
Instead, what was going to be an awesome post about the Bears defense taking the offense behind the woodshed and tattooing the words "Greg Olsen" and "Devin Hester" into their
foreheads becomes yet another whiny rant about the entire team not getting it done.
Hell, even Kali himself dropped a sure touchdown on a surprisingly well-thrown deep ball by Rex.
I don't know what to do. It's a dark day in Chicago where the offense holds up its end of the bargain while the defense blows the game. I don't even know how to respond. Is this what it feels like to be a Texans fan? Maybe a 10-gallon hat will make me feel better.
UPDATED, 1:30 on 12/3: F—k! I Was THIS Close To Being Benched! Oh, those crazy Manning brothers.