Circles of Bears' Hell

Tuesday night, I was watching the 9 o’clock news as is my wont. About thirteen minutes in, the anchors shifted to sports with breaking news—the Bears had signed free-agent quarterback Andy Dalton to a one-year contract. A giant sinkhole that swallowed up the Cubs and White Sox would’ve gotten less attention. Such is the place I live in. The 33-year old Dalton is slated to make a base salary of $10 million, with another $3 million in incentives. I hope for Dalton’s sake he earns the extra cash because that means he performed better than expected. That either mollifies an unhappy fan base, or it gives Dalton more than enough cash to get out of town, fast. And here I thought I’d never feel bad for a millionaire. Nothing short of a deep, and I mean deep, run in the playoffs will protect Dalton and the people who signed him. A slow start, and the McCaskeys will probably invoke COVID protocols to empty out Soldier Field. I think it’s finally reached a point where Bears Nation is ready to give Philadelphia fans a run for the money as the most unforgiving boo-birds in all of sports. You had a chance to draft Patrick Mahomes, and now we end up with Andy Dalton? That is not a thought to still restless souls. On top of that comes news that Bears’ GM Ryan Pace really, really tried to get quarterback Russell Wilson from the Seahawks, offering a package that included three first-round draft choices and two starting players. Only problem was, the starting players had to come from the Bears, which is sort of like the mid-60s Mets. In other words, it was easy for Seattle to utter the two words that promise another season of mediocrity, or worse, along the shores of Lake Michigan—No thanks. I wouldn’t want to be Pace right now or anyone with the last name of McCaskey. If ever Chicago could shift (back?) to being a baseball town, it’s now. You can only hope that Jerry Reinsdorf and the Ricketts don’t go belly up in solidarity with a brother owner. This is one time you pray there’s no honor among thieves.