The Chicago Bears.
They won the Super Bowl in 1986. Then years of heartache followed. For me it became an unhealthy relationship. Night-game losses to Green Bay hurt the most, ruined the night and the following day.
In 2007 the Bear’s Super Bowl defeat by the Colts was all I could take. I broke up with the Bears and eventually stopped watching football altogether.
A number of times since, the Bears reached the playoffs, but never the Super Bowl. It didn’t concern me because I didn’t watch. I put the free time into doing things other things, like writing.
Then January 2026 came and I learned soon the Bears would face the Packers. The winner would take the next step toward Super Bowl. They’d play on a Saturday night.
I weakened.
I came up with an excuse for watching that wouldn’t violate my principle. The game would make history no matter who won. I’d watch it without rooting for either team.
But my calendar was booked. Saturday evenings I join my parents at their place for pizza. They’re in their nineties and follow strict routines. One is, dinner’s in the dining room. Another, no TV while eating.
I thought of a way around the second one. It would be fun to watch the game while enjoying our pizza, an energizing change for the night.
I phoned and they were quick to agree. Dad’s a Bears fan. Mom is too. She mostly likes watching us–and providing color commentary that’s sometimes insightful and sometimes ridiculous.
Thus I created a way to watch the game yet not end my Bears breakup. I could say it was my parents who put the game on. I was just there as on any Saturday night.
But their TV’s anchored in the den. My plan required a screen in the dining room. I brought my laptop and streamed the game at the table.
Before kickoff my parents and I talked about the 1985 Bears, the parties and fun those games gave, especially watching McMahon, Payton, Perry, and the rest of the colorful team reach and win their Super Bowl.
That night they hoped for Chicago to defeat Green Bay, and I found myself hoping with them. As we progressed, though, through cocktails, dinner, and dessert we watched the Bears trail.
Before halftime my dad wrote off the Bears, noting their defense wasn’t good enough to enable a win. Around 10 PM we watched the Packers get 6 more points. 27 to 16 with only 6 minutes left? I tell Mom and Dad, “I’m taking my computer and going home.”
As I’m packing, my dad walks to his den and turns the TV on. He calls me, extends the remote and says, “find the game for me.” I press the mic, say “Bears game,” and it comes up 27 to 24. What? Somehow the Bears scored 8 points during the brief blackout I imposed.
So there we are, my dad and I standing shoulder to shoulder, and my mom’s now in the den too, in a chair that’s facing us rather than the TV, and she’s watching Dad and I standing and cheering for the Bears like we did so many decades ago.
We watch the Packers miss a field goal with less than 3 minutes left, watch the bears get a TD with less than 2 minutes left. Now the Bears are ahead and it’s 31 to 27. They hold the Packers and ultimately catch their pass to complete the win!
What a great time my dad, mom, and I had. Especially those last minutes of the game. It felt a bit like ’85.
Now I’m planning to watch the next game with them.
As for the Bears and me… Will I go back to being a fan? I’m telling myself to be strong. I’ve been hurt too many times. 😉
Jim's Writing 