4th And 26 Why the Bears deserve pity, not scorn

4th And 26 is The A.V. Club's weekly Packers column, which will run every Friday for as long as the season lasts.

When it comes to the NFL, little is more fun, and more pointless, than pre-season predictions. In a sport where a salary cap is employed specifically to turn the league into the grayest bowl of 9-7, 8-8, and 7-9 porridge, that wearied old saw of “anything can happen” is always in play. So while it would be a whole lot of fun to discuss how the Packers left gigantic, smoking burn-holes on their first three pre-season opponents, or that it would have been literally impossible for Aaron Rodgers to play much better—147.9 passer rating out of a possible 158.3!—all of that isn’t worth any more than Brett Favre’s word until they lace 'em up for real.

No, what matters is that Week 1 the Bears and the Packers will square off for the 178th time since 1921. And since I’ve been living and dying with the Packers for well over 30 years, I know my birthright requires me to be frothing and rabid for each and every Bears game. But I’m not. Don’t get me wrong: I hope like hell we win, but a loss wouldn’t come anywhere close to producing the minefield of ulcers that starts sizzling after one of the Pack’s semi-regular thrashings in the Metrodome. And because I spend a good deal of time grinding on thoughts of little consequence—what’s less emasculating, ordering a mojito or a margarita?—dissecting why I don’t hate the Bears as much as I think I should hate the Bears seemed like the most productive thing I could do on the eve of the season’s start.

If there’s a god, he/she/it hates the Bears
The sports world is littered with some of the most despicable human beings on the planet, yet the Bears’ greatest player ever—Walter Payton—died at age 45 from a rare liver disease no one’s ever heard of called “primary sclerosing cholangitis.” Consider this: Rex Grossman’s and William Perry’s livers are still going strong, filtering whatever vile concoctions those two yahoos have spent their lives passing through them, while one of the most gracious, kind, and truly good athletes of this or any age is dead. Christopher Hitchens could have written a whole chapter on this phenomenon without ever having gotten around to Brian Piccolo.

Those sad, pathetic, awful quarterbacks
I realize us Packers fans are beyond lucky to have enjoyed 32 seasons of Hall Of Fame quarterbacking. (Would it be too much to hope for another 16 from Aaron Rodgers? Please?) But the Bears’ history of putridity at the most important position in all of sports defies logic. After Hall Of Famer Sid Luckman—who played during FDR’s presidency, mind you—you’d be hard pressed to come up with a better No. 2 than Jim McMahon. And McMahon is a player whose best season consisted of 15 TDs, 11 INTs and 2,392 yards. Ouch. (And no, Bears fan, George Blanda isn’t yours. He’s a Raider.) But hey, Erik Kramer’s snazzy 1995 season surely makes up for the Cade McNown, Peter Tom Willis, and Rick Mirer eras, right?

The Bears are really boring
From those drab, muted uniforms to the perpetually coal-gray Chicago skies, the Bears' dreariness is manifested in a grind-it-out offense that’d be better suited for the age when players spent the off-season selling insurance for rent money. I know Bears fans will say they like the team's traditionally old-timey style of play, and that it’s an embodiment of their blue-collar work ethic, and blah blah bullshit, but us Packers fans know better: Points are awesome, and scoring them in bunches is more fun to watch than three yards and a cloud of dust.

Bears fans are like that cute kid from middle school who wore the hockey helmet
Packers and Bears fans actually have a whole lot in common: We’re both passionate to a fault, drink way too much, and for some reason are prone to sporting un-ironic mustaches. And if not for the differing colors on the XXL jerseys we wear on Sundays, it’d be impossible to tell us apart in a police lineup. However, I have to give a healthy advantage in the gray-matter department to the folks from the Fox Valley. I know we’re not privy to a history filled with crappy quarterbacks, though even if we were, I’m quite sure we wouldn’t be excited about a new signal-caller like Jay Cutler who has never been to the playoffs (or a college bowl game), and in three short years has proven himself to be an immature ingrate who averages a pick a game. This spells Super Bowl, how?

Sorry, Halas, your chicanery didn’t work
Wisconsin’s proximity to Illinois, and that fact the Bears and Packers have been playing each other for almost 90 years has without a doubt ingrained a megaton of ill-will between the two teams, though the genesis of the feud can be found way back in 1921 when George Halas had the Packers kicked out of the league for totally bullshit reasons. Beyond this being a donkey move, it’s more than a little sad for him to have to resort to shenanigans like this in order to win. Since I’m not the bitter type, I’m going to extend an olive branch and speak for all Packers fans by telling the maggot-riddled corpse of George Halas, “We forgive you.” And while that meager proclamation probably won’t end the hostility, and it certainly won’t make Bears fans any less jealous that the Packers have more Super Bowl appearances, Super Bowl wins, and NFL Championships, I do think it’s a start. And I also understand when there’s this much emotion involved, it can be hard to cut through the white noise and think clearly. Then again, maybe it’s just the way the sun reflects off all of the Packers’ Super Bowl trophies that makes it so hard to see.