The Architects...Carried Off In Glory
Super Bowl XX was the last game I enjoyed as a resident of Chicago. A few weeks earlier my father had taken me to the Divisional Round playoff game versus LT and the New York Football Giants. It was windy...the Landetta Punt. It was cold...I'm missing three fingers below the second knuckle due to frostbite. Well that's not true but it was extremely cold. The Monsters of the Midway shut out Phil Simms and little Joe Morris 20-0.
Deep down inside I was frightened at the prospect of having to play the Dolphins and Dan Marino's 1985/'86 Perm. That thing was curly and boy could he sling the ball. We were 17-1 and getting ready for a Super Bowl which was sure to have, as its storyline: "Can the Bears avenge their only loss of the season?"
I couldn't imagine what a painfully long winter it would be knowing that we were at the brink of greatness but failed. Long winters become colder and darker when you ponder such things.
The Vengeance card would not be played. The Dolphins were miraculously upset by a Wild Card New England team that traveled to Miami, and in a torrential downpour, eked out a win.
I suppose as a little kid I was happy that our chances at winning a Super Bowl were exponentially increased by not having to face Dan Marino's perm. I mean what did I even know about the Patriots? They had two Quarterbacks: one from the University of Illinois and the other, a fossil who wore a neck brace. I knew who Craig James, Irving Fryar and Andre Tippett were....and I also knew there was no chance we would lose that game.
Deep down inside I was frightened at the prospect of having to play the Dolphins and Dan Marino's 1985/'86 Perm. That thing was curly and boy could he sling the ball. We were 17-1 and getting ready for a Super Bowl which was sure to have, as its storyline: "Can the Bears avenge their only loss of the season?"
The Vengeance card would not be played. The Dolphins were miraculously upset by a Wild Card New England team that traveled to Miami, and in a torrential downpour, eked out a win.
I suppose as a little kid I was happy that our chances at winning a Super Bowl were exponentially increased by not having to face Dan Marino's perm. I mean what did I even know about the Patriots? They had two Quarterbacks: one from the University of Illinois and the other, a fossil who wore a neck brace. I knew who Craig James, Irving Fryar and Andre Tippett were....and I also knew there was no chance we would lose that game.
We quickly found ourselves down, 0-3, and we collectively shit ourselves. Then the power went out so we went ahead and pissed ourselves. Our parents were at a Super Bowl party which left us to call up a friend's mom so we could be transported to the other side of town where the power was still on. When we arrived north of the tracks the Bears were ahead and they never looked back. I remember being euphoric but a little upset at the Patriots scoring that final TD. 46-3 had been looking so majestic...
Upon reflection, I not only keenly remember the fantastic feeling of being in a city with a Super Bowl Champ but I also find myself bitter. Bitter that the Bears did not have the opportunity to avenge their only defeat in 1985. We have the New England Patriots to blame for that...
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