Redskins vs. Bears preview

(classic Bears fan)

As part of my ongoing series to try and find ways to psychically hate the Redskins opposition week after week, so as to really 100% GET INTO EVERY FUCKIN’ GAME with my entire emotional trainwreck of a brain (and soul, and heart), I got stoned as fuck last night and sat in the back yard, cold as it was, under the nearly full moon, and contemplated what it is I find annoying about the Chicago Bears. To be honest, I had a good start just on the walk from the house to the picnic table 200 feet from the house, because I am a guy who has been internetting for over a decade, and for some godawful reason, there are tons of goddamn 30-something hipster contrarian fuckfaces who make WACKY PHOTOSHOPZ and I CAN HAZ PODCASTS and generally waste their lives online in the similarly immature socially degenerate places I do who Chicago Bears fans. I never really understood why, so as I was wi-fi’d out my mind, I put some mental energy into the situation.
I mean, really, the Bears, in most all of our lifetimes, have only been good that one year they won the Super Bowl and did the Super Bowl Shuffle and had wacky dudes like Refrigerator Perry (now is an overweight black redneck who sells hunting gear) and Jim McMahon (now wears sunglasses all the time and rides a Rascal) and Mike Singletary (now mind rapes players in San Francisco of their manhood because he can’t win with them). Other than that, it’s been a whole lot of mehs over the years, other than the whole Da Bears comedy routine from Saturday Night Live, which has actually had better legs than Da Bears being good in the ‘80s did.
So I got to thinking about it, and it occurred to me that a perfect petri dish of cultural changes happened there in the mid-‘80s to incubate all these dork Bears fans. First off, we started having things like cable TV and video games pop up on the scene. Secondly, the sanctity of marriage started meaning far less to most folks, who started having casual babies more often, so that by the mid-‘90s, “baby mama” and “baby daddy” were actual functional terms. But for these bastard children of the ‘80s, who either were missing a parent, usually a father since most of us are tied to our mothers at birth umbilically, or because of Reaganomics stomping on the naïve dreams of the underclass (which made way for rampant lotteries run by government), the parents were always gone. Thus, there’s a whole generation of emotionally stunted manboys who were basically raised by pop culture. That void was filled with Super Tecmo Bowl and Sly Stallone movies and those crazy Bears shucking and jiving their way to crushing the Cincinnati Bengals in whatever stupid fucking Super Bowl it was they won. Might have even been the Patriots they beat, I’m not sure. I am a Redskins fan and my mind’s hard drive is too filled with wonderful memories of a storied and glorious franchise to really remember specifics about these assholes from Chicago.
So anyways, that’s why I’m figuring there’s so many Bears fans populating the interwebz and every city that is not Chicago anywhere in America. Unless of course that many people are bumrushing their way out of Chicago because the town sucks, which I can’t really see being the case. I went through there a year or so ago, and really unless you were in the brown or black part of town, which are well segregated for your safety, it’s really just like a giant open air Starbucks – very smooth jazzy and non-threatening.
The great hero to these people is Walter Payton, who has been remembered posthumously as a wonderful humanitarian mostly because he died of the cancer. Little is spoken of his lifetime of only dating white women and abusing them verbally always and physically sometimes. Unlike most men who used actual manufactured jheri curl juice for that particular hairstyle, Walter Payton, in his ridiculous fame, would only use the tears of his abused and conquested white women mixed with the pureed adrenalin glands of spider monkeys to keep his hair oiled up. Payton believed the spider monkey adrenaline/white woman tears gave him immediate healing powers against opposing defense’s violent tackles on him, which is why he would always spring up quickly and emphatically after a tackle. There are also theories that exposure to so much monkey adrenaline could have contributed to his susceptibility to cancer, but that is for the world of interventional radiologists, not the blogospheric ramblings of professional football fans. But needless to say, Walter Payton’s behind the scenes vile and disgusting nature has been glossed over with memories of a Great Humanitarian who once nobly held the NFL’s All-Time Rushing Leader title with pride. This jibes well with bastard retard Bears fan from that era who is now in their 30s and still trying to figure out what they want to do with their life, career-wise, because the denial of your inherent shitty drain on everyone and everything around you to pretend you are something Great and Noble and even maybe The Best Ever, well, you don’t need a master’s in clinical psychology to understand why a bunch of unemployable social miscreants would want to believe that.
This leads us into the Brian Urlacher era of Chicago Bears football. To the Bears fan, Urlacher is an honorable warrior of a linebacker, and harkens back to the Bears glory days of punishing and scary white men roaming the middle of Soldier Field, long before black guys were accepted enough to dominate the rosters of NFL teams. There’s a certain degree of racism underlying this respect, to love a guy because he’s your star player AND he’s white, but we’ll let that slide. The real problem with Brian Urlacher is in attitude and look and mentality, he is the epitome of a State Trooper. Now there might be a lot of dumbasses in this world who are like, “Oh police officers serve and protect, they’re the best, putting their life on the line, blah blah fucking blah.” I am not cut from this pulled-over-your-eyes sheeps wool to believe that. The truth of the matter is there are two key factors that create State Trooper mentality in a full-grown man. First off, you have to be stupid as fuck. Not acting stupid, like you do dumb things, but just literally in your brain stupid. The options to go to college or carve out a good living for yourself using your own ingenuity just are not there. You are vastly limited by your own corrupted grey matter. Which is fine; many of my best friends are like this. Except they lack the second factor required to be cursed with State Trooper mentality – a complete and utter trust and respect for Law. State Trooper dudes are not only dumb as a fucking brick, but they actually believe that law and order is good and that government really does help us all. Because of this, they want to make sure everybody else appreciates the law and the government, and how great we all have it being born Americans. Of course, they are still stupid, so they start to create these habits of judgment where they know people who drive cars with rims or have brown skin or long hair or brake lights out or whatever, those are people who lack respect for laws or government. That’s why when these dumb fucking beasts in badges pull a solid dude like you or me over, they are automatically in the “Officer Fuckedfrombirth, Virginia State Police, can I see your government papers,” because you and me are their enemy. They don’t want to serve and protect us; they want us all in jail so they can have a quality world with nothing but hunting trips to Montana and roads without a single black mark on them from somebody doing a drunken burnout at 3 in the morning. Fuckers.
So that’s Brian Urlacher, except he took enough human growth hormones to get too big to just be a dumb fucking shithead New Mexico state trooper, and he got a free ride through college as a football player. I’m sure this took a lot of instruction to get him pointed in the right direction and learn how to add and subtract 7s and 3s on the scoreboard using his wristpad guide and fingers so as to “know” how far to play off the line in most situations. But somebody with a lot of patience somehow taught this jarhead how to do that. And he ended up in Chicago where a bastard fanbase desperate for anything to feel better about themselves and their shitty team run by halfwits that make Dan Snyder almost seem shrewd, because the fan thinks, “Haha, white guy crushes people. I’m a white guy, but I don’t crush anything except cans of soda until I finally get diabetes and then I’ll still crush soda just with fake sugar that’ll give me cancer instead of for-real sugar. Because I am a Bears fan and I will never quit (drinking soda)!”
So there’s your Bears fan, in a nutshell. I am proud that I am cut from a far more socialized stock, and I will wake up Sunday morning, have a fantastic breakfast spread with my lovely family, consisting of children and two complete parents (one man and one woman, we’re not Cowboys fans lolololol), and we’ll probably take the kids for an autumn hike that morning as well, get out and exercise and breath some fresh country air. Then we’ll come back to the house and I’ll settle down to nice warm cup of tea with maybe a splash of bourbon or two in it, and watch my beloved Redskins play these fucking shithead Chicago Bears, perhaps the worst 4-2 football team since Jim Zorn’s first year in Washington. At least we have accepted our mistakes and Jim Zorn has been banished from D.C. and Mike Shanahan is setting us on an inevitable return to glory, as opposed to the Bears, who have the same shitty management making the same stupid decisions, leaving the same fatherless retard fanbase to sit around and think about how awesome the ’85 Bears were, in perpetuity. Shit, someone should just go edit the Bears Wikipedia page to read “1985 was awesome.” and throw up a link to the youtube for “The Super Bowl Shuffle” and be done with the rest of it. Fucking jackasses.