Jeff Reed you're my hero!

I have to admit, I was worried.

Living in Pittsburgh, I am awash in Steeler fanaticism. Everyone, from checkout ladies to Catholic priests, wears a Steelers shirt the Friday before games. And they are not afraid to shout out at random cars "LET'S GO stilLERS!!" which is unnerving if you're trying not to run people over. So forgive me if I was a bit worried about the Bears having to play what I assumed to be an unstoppable juggernaut. After all, the Steelers came back and beat the Titans the week before, right? And the Titans are really good, right? Add to that all those Sulkypants interceptions against the Packers, and Urlacher's absence, and you've got what looked to be a recipe for disaster.

But I forgot something.

On Rosh Hashannah I pray. I pray HARD. Because if you only go to shul once a week, and spending most of those hours mentally undressing lady parishioners, you have to use the High Holy Days to build up some credit. And I took a bunch of crap from my in-laws about the impending blowout, so I was feeling especially uneasy about hearing how the Bears blew it for the next three years, until the two teams play again. So I used my time with the Lord to pray for a victory.

Here's how the conversation went:

Me: Oh Lord, Ruler of the Universe, great, mighty, and possessing fantastic mystical superpowers, please hear my prayer.

G-d: Yep, you've got the G-Man on the telephono.

Me: King of kings, verily I seek your beneficence.

G-d: Righto. What can I do you for, brosephus?

Me: Please guide the Chicago Bears to victory this very day against the Pittsburgh Steelers.

G-d: Dude, it's totally Rosh Hashish. You sure you want to use your lifeline on this? Because I gotta tell ya, you skate on thin ice as it is. You may need that favor for, oh, I don't know, that time in May when you lose your wallet at the Pirates game.

Me: I didn't lose my wallet at the Pirates game.

G-d: Man, you're talking to the Master of Disaster! Literally! You think I give a hoohaa about your idea of time? I'm talking NEXT May. The future, mano e mano. I totally blew your mind just now, didn't I?

Me: Truly I am in awe.

G-d: Bet your ass. So, what's the dilly-yo?

Me: I'm still going to have to pray for the Bears to whup the Steelers this afternoon.

G-d: Ya, I'm gonna say...nay. Sorry, bra.

Me: Come on! Just do me this one solid and I'll be all about the praising and the supplications this year.

G-d: You do realize I can tell when you're lying, right? Look, I'm not saying the Bears will lose, I'm just saying it won't be a blowout.

Me: I don't care. I just want Child to understand the glory of rooting for the Bears.

G-d: Right. I don't think you have to worry about that one being a football fan.

Me: What's that?

G-d: Uh, nothing. Forget it. So, one Bears victory, coming right up. Ooh, that reminds me about something I owe Jeff Reed...

Me: Oh, and can you throw in a Packers loss? A loss at home to the Bengals would be hilarious!

G-d: No problem, I fucking hate that team. Fat bastards, the lot of them. Plus, did you know that Aaron Rogers has a two inch penis? True story.

So there you have it. G-d loves the Fancypants, and hates Jeff Reed. Which is good enough for me. Oh, and

OK, fine: Jay Cutler, aka Crybaby Sulkypants, also played an instrumental role by taking what the defense gave him, and throwing 2 touchdown passes. Kudos, sir.