Football Friday from On Her Game - To the Bears' GM, Phil Emery: Here’s a Dictionary

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This post for Football Friday for On Her Game is a reflection of how worked up I was following yet another painful Bears game.   

As I sit here stewing over another atrocious Bears game, I find myself wondering why I continue to hold on to my allegiances. I live in my own house in Denver, with the mortgage to prove it, am married to a man with terrible allegiances (Colts and the Manning led Broncos), yet I still root for my Bears with a passion. By personal standards, I came late to the football party (around age eight), and I would always cheer for whomever my Dad was rooting for during a particular game. When we move to the Chicago-land area, he became a Bears fan, and so did I. Nearly 25 years later, I am still at it.

I recently came across a fantastic joke in the latest edition of Reader’s Digest:

 “Three fans were bemoaning the sorry state of their football team.

‘I blame the general manager,’ said the first fan.
‘If he signed better players, we’d be a great team.’

‘I blame the players,’ said the second fan. ‘If they made more of an effort,
we’d score more points.’

‘I blame my parents,’ said the third. ‘If I’d been born in Seattle,
I’d be supporting a decent team.’”

Now, to be clear, I don’t blame my Dad for teaching me to root for the Bears. He also taught me to be a White Sox fan rather than the Cubs, and I know I have a better life because of it. Plus I am an adult, who is now informed enough to make her own decisions on who I want to cheer for during a given game. That will not stop me, however, from blaming both the GM Phil Emery and the Bears players for their continual missteps on the field.

Let’s start with Phil Emery. This is the GM who followed Jerry Angelo, a man who drove Bears fan, namely me absolutely bonkers with mistake after mistake, most notably in the draft. Shall I regale you with tales of running back or quarterback woes? For the sake of my own sanity, I am going to skip the list. Let’s suffice it to say, a majority of them can no longer be found on any roster in the league. So in steps Emery, who appeared to make an immediate positive impact, until he did not; unless you want to count a negative impact? I believe in my heart Emery and I parted ways philosophically when he refused to resign Brian Urlacher. The man who led the defense that resurrected the “Monsters of the Midway,” and took the Bears to the Super Bowl; a championship they would have won if the offense had even a mediocre quarterback. No, Sexy Rexy (Rex Grossman) does not even meet the bar of mediocrity in my mind.

I got off the topic at hand, which is Emery. Instead of signing Urlacher, he decided to spend a majority of the Bears available salary cap monies on the offensive side of the ball. I am not disagreeing with the thought, with the exception that the pendulum swung wildly to the other side. There is no balance! At this point, the personnel on the offensive side of the ball have the potential to be one of the best in the league. Note that POTENTIAL is the operative word in that statement; whereas the defense, marred by injuries and suspect talent, is without a leader or an identity. No, Lance Briggs does not count as a leader, and I will spare myself the personal anguish of thinking about safety Chris Conte. Most every game I scream at the TV, put me in coach, I can play better than him! Yes, at 5’2”, 1—, female, and slow, I still contend I can be a better pro-safety than Chris Conte.

Back to my man Urlacher, a consensus future Hall of Fame linebacker, whom I still miss terribly, who had this to say on Jay Cutler, “Financially, he is one of the elite guys in the NFL ... he just hasn't produced like an elite quarterback. You look at the [Tom] Bradys, the [Peyton] Mannings, the [Aaron] Rodgers, the [Drew] Brees, those guys win every year, even with no one around them. Rodgers has no offensive line. He wins. Brady has no receivers. He wins.”

Fear not my fellow Bears fan; Phil is here to reassure us that Jay Cutler is an ELITE quarterback in salary and talent, “Emery: "Jay Cutler is a winning quarterback in this league and no matter how you analyze the history of quarterbacks in the NFL, if you have a winning record you are an elite player at that position.”

This would be the point in the article where I would call, bull sh*t.

I want to see the Bears’ front office, led right now by Phil Emery to consider how they are delegating their resources. There needs to be an acknowledgement that signing Cutler to a lucrative contract came at the expense of the defensive side of the ball. And until the Bears start consistently winning, or at least playing up to the offensive potential, I am going to send Emery a dictionary so that he can consult it for the definition of the word ‘elite.’ 

For those of you keeping track at home, Dictionary.com defines it this way:

noun
1. (often used with a plural verb) the choice or best of anything considered collectively, as of a group or class of persons.

2. (used with a plural verb) persons of the highest class: Only the elite were there.

adjective

1. representing the most choice or select; best: an elite group of authors.

The recent play of Jay Cutler does not warrant the support from his General Manager, but there is little doubt that his paycheck certainly does.

I Wear his Shirts; I Hear her Voice

Throughout my undergraduate education at Indiana University (HOOSIERS!), I took a few rock 'n' roll history courses. During the first day of one of those classes the professor asked us to raise our hands in order to identify what part of the music we each listened to, as we tend to fall in to one of two groups: the beat/instrumental or the lyrics. I am in the latter category, which is part of why I enjoy some country music. I take flack for it, but I do enjoy songs that tell stories or have something to say. For the record, talk of tractors, drinking on planes, or alcohol in general do not qualify. 

Anyway, to my point of "outing myself as something of a country music fan," I really like a song by Lee Brice called, "I Drive Your Truck." It is about a guy whose brother was killed in combat. Rather than going to visit his brother's grave, he feels close to him by driving his truck. 

Ever since I lost my Grandpop earlier this year, I have found myself thinking a lot about the process of grieving. Not just the loss of my paternal grandfather, but also my maternal grandmother as these are two losses that have had a profound impact on my life. Just like the guy in the song, I do not feel close to either of them at their graves, but rather in other ways.

My maternal grandmother (my Mom-Mom) passed away when I was in high school. When I think of her I think of buttons, the beach, Disney World, a really comfortable chair with an ottoman, and this one very distinct conversation. I have this larger than life chair and ottoman that I refuse to part with even though it does not really fit in my house anymore, I think in large part because it reminds me of sitting in her apartment in Baltimore in that chair with my feet propped up. There was also that conversation. I was just starting to reach the age where it was fun and cool to really chat with your grandparents, and I was telling her about this English teacher that I had in high school who was really giving me fits (Highland alums - think Junior Year with Mrs. Berg). This teacher really made me feel less than; and my Mom-Mom's response, "you don't have to take that from her!" It was the sassiest thing I had ever heard Dorothy Poist say, and it has stuck with me! 

I have this bulldozer in my life, a person who drives me absolutely crazy, and I have recently realized that I can apply what Mom-Mom said to me then, "I don't have to take that from her!" And you know what, I am not going to anymore. 

Grandpop, my paternal grandfather, was the only grandfather I grew up with as my Pop-Pop (maternal grandfather) passed away when I was around 4 1/2. His loss has been very difficult for our family, but we keep him close in many ways including wearing his flannel shirts. He had a quality collection of flannel shirts, and everyone went home with one. I also have a scratchy wool sweater that I wear at times when I really miss him. Yes, it's real love if you are willing to wear an itchy wool sweater that gives off a Mr. Rogers vibe. 

I am still caught off guard at times by my feelings of grief. I will be minding my own business, and a thought will float in to my mind, and I will just be overcome with emotion. I have been thinking about him a lot during the baseball playoffs. He would have been especially impressed by the play of many of the outfielders as he always appreciated a good throw to the plate. I also taught Danny to keep score at a game, just like Grandpop taught me. 

I have also been thinking a lot about my going to my grandparents' house in November for Thanksgiving. He won't be there to greet me with a "HiYa!" and a kiss on the cheek. My Grandmom will be there, however, and I cannot wait to give her a big hug. She is so tiny, I am always afraid I will break her, but I know she understands my need to hold her tight.

Please hold on tight to those you love, we only have a finite amount of time together, and it's never enough. Until I am reconnected with my Mom-Mom and Pop-Pop, along with my Grandpop, I am going to continue to wear his shirts, and hear her voice.