Week 3 Bears Recap: Powering Through
You don't drink keg beer in the mountains of Colorado and not feel the effects. The altitude adds about a dozen points to your hangover's degree of difficulty. So after a wedding weekend with college friends in Copper, Colorado I woke up Sunday morning feeling like Rex Grossman when he threw that horrible duck into the arms of a Vikings defender and put the Bears in a big hole: I wanted to take a couple of things back.
THE FIRST HALF
The trip did not start off smooth. A flat tire fifteen minutes after leaving Denver International Airport, a white-out blizzard once we got into the mountains, big rigs jack-knifing on the icy road in front of us and the HORRIBLE decision to drink two-buck chuck at two in the morning because there was no beer or power in the condo. "What the hell else are we going to do?" I think we were just happy to be alive.
Friday morning I awoke and immediately remembered why I hate the mountains. It's dry, it dehydrates you and you lose your breath going to the kitchen to get a glass of water. Ibuprofen is no match for plate tectonics.
The keg arrived at our condo Friday afternoon, as did a bunch of lawyers and business school graduates thirsty to relive the glory days. Obviously, everyone was in great shape by the time we arrived at the rehearsal dinner that night. But those who had to, put themselves to bed early, no aunt was hit on and all hot, underage cousins were left with their honor in tact. We had survived the first half of the weekend.
The Bears were lucky to end the first half down only 6-3. Missed tackles, a Grossman interception and MISSED TACKLES were the Bears' version of flat tires, blizzard driving and two-buck chuck. After each team opened with a nice drive, the defenses took over and things slowed down.
We couldn't run the ball, we couldn't get to Vikings quarterback Brad Johnson and Coach Lovie Smith wasted a huge timeout on a bad challenge. Things couldn't have gone much worse, yet they were in great position to win the game. Just like us idiots in Colorado, they could still make it a great Saturday night, sing along to Kenny Rogers' "The Gambler" and go home winners.
THE SECOND HALF
Chicago dominated the third quarter. The running game got going and we finally took the lead. Still, it was only a three-point lead and Grossman looked shaky.
Saturday afternoon showed promise. College football was on and I didn't have to leave the couch until after 4. But people were moving all around me. I felt like Grossman facing the Vikings blitz package. Why are people going to the gym and taking hikes and looking for places to lunch? Things were okay but I had the worst headache I've ever had. Damn these mountains.
Saturday night. Shower and shave. Squeeze into the ol' suit and then sit quietly while your friend gets married. Then BAM! You realize two and a half days of beer and pizza are going to make an appearance on the south lawn. All you can do is hope the khaki color of your pants doesn't change shades of brown.
My bowels potentially exploding during a young couple's nuptials = the Grossman interception returned for a touchdown. It wasn't pretty.
But like the Bears, I held strong and made it to cocktail hour unscathed. The Bears took a knockout blow, got their feet back underneath them and drove down the field, grabbed a field goal and cut the lead to one.
Unfortunately, Urlacher and Co. couldn't hold and the Vikings stretched the lead back to four, meaning a Bears tuddy was again necessary.
End of Saturday night, closing in on the two minute warning and things got a little hairy for our crew. The wedding was ending and the surly bartender didn't want to sell us a keg. We had very few late night options.
But we overcame adversity, bought the restaurant's last $200 in bottled beer before they kicked us out and got the revelers back to our place for a final hurrah.
Our last second beer-purchase was a lot like that sneaky Tommie Harris busting through the line in the fourth quarter and forcing the fumble to set up the Bears only touchdown drive of the day. That was the surprise, game-changing move (It also should be mentioned here that my friend Chris put the beer on his credit card. Thanks, Chris. I hope you know you'll never see a dime from any of us).
Sunday morning I again woke up cursing the mountains. I needed to get to Denver. My friend Ellis lived a short hour away from where I was currently groaning and he had DirecTV, Tivo the NFL package. I could see the whole game if I was on the road by 9 AM. So I got up, packed up and made the phone call to get my ride.
What did Grossman do when it came HIS final countdown? He shook off two terrible interceptions, two should've-been-picks and constant pocket pressure to lead the Bears down the short field for his first career fourth quarter touchdown pass and a Bears victory.
And where was I when the Rashied Davis caught that beautiful ball in the back of the end zone? Sitting quite comfortably (and screaming incoherently) on Ellis' couch. I had persevered. There were some bad calls (the two-buck chuck, the horse collar penalty on Alex Brown), but we got the job done. A successful wedding and a 3-0 record.
Next Sunday the Seahawks come to Soldier Field for Sunday Night Football. I'll be at home in Chicago and it should be a good game. My parents don't keep any two-buck chuck in the house.
THE FIRST HALF
The trip did not start off smooth. A flat tire fifteen minutes after leaving Denver International Airport, a white-out blizzard once we got into the mountains, big rigs jack-knifing on the icy road in front of us and the HORRIBLE decision to drink two-buck chuck at two in the morning because there was no beer or power in the condo. "What the hell else are we going to do?" I think we were just happy to be alive.
Friday morning I awoke and immediately remembered why I hate the mountains. It's dry, it dehydrates you and you lose your breath going to the kitchen to get a glass of water. Ibuprofen is no match for plate tectonics.
The keg arrived at our condo Friday afternoon, as did a bunch of lawyers and business school graduates thirsty to relive the glory days. Obviously, everyone was in great shape by the time we arrived at the rehearsal dinner that night. But those who had to, put themselves to bed early, no aunt was hit on and all hot, underage cousins were left with their honor in tact. We had survived the first half of the weekend.
The Bears were lucky to end the first half down only 6-3. Missed tackles, a Grossman interception and MISSED TACKLES were the Bears' version of flat tires, blizzard driving and two-buck chuck. After each team opened with a nice drive, the defenses took over and things slowed down.
We couldn't run the ball, we couldn't get to Vikings quarterback Brad Johnson and Coach Lovie Smith wasted a huge timeout on a bad challenge. Things couldn't have gone much worse, yet they were in great position to win the game. Just like us idiots in Colorado, they could still make it a great Saturday night, sing along to Kenny Rogers' "The Gambler" and go home winners.
THE SECOND HALF
Chicago dominated the third quarter. The running game got going and we finally took the lead. Still, it was only a three-point lead and Grossman looked shaky.
Saturday afternoon showed promise. College football was on and I didn't have to leave the couch until after 4. But people were moving all around me. I felt like Grossman facing the Vikings blitz package. Why are people going to the gym and taking hikes and looking for places to lunch? Things were okay but I had the worst headache I've ever had. Damn these mountains.
Saturday night. Shower and shave. Squeeze into the ol' suit and then sit quietly while your friend gets married. Then BAM! You realize two and a half days of beer and pizza are going to make an appearance on the south lawn. All you can do is hope the khaki color of your pants doesn't change shades of brown.
My bowels potentially exploding during a young couple's nuptials = the Grossman interception returned for a touchdown. It wasn't pretty.
But like the Bears, I held strong and made it to cocktail hour unscathed. The Bears took a knockout blow, got their feet back underneath them and drove down the field, grabbed a field goal and cut the lead to one.
Unfortunately, Urlacher and Co. couldn't hold and the Vikings stretched the lead back to four, meaning a Bears tuddy was again necessary.
End of Saturday night, closing in on the two minute warning and things got a little hairy for our crew. The wedding was ending and the surly bartender didn't want to sell us a keg. We had very few late night options.
But we overcame adversity, bought the restaurant's last $200 in bottled beer before they kicked us out and got the revelers back to our place for a final hurrah.
Our last second beer-purchase was a lot like that sneaky Tommie Harris busting through the line in the fourth quarter and forcing the fumble to set up the Bears only touchdown drive of the day. That was the surprise, game-changing move (It also should be mentioned here that my friend Chris put the beer on his credit card. Thanks, Chris. I hope you know you'll never see a dime from any of us).
Sunday morning I again woke up cursing the mountains. I needed to get to Denver. My friend Ellis lived a short hour away from where I was currently groaning and he had DirecTV, Tivo the NFL package. I could see the whole game if I was on the road by 9 AM. So I got up, packed up and made the phone call to get my ride.
What did Grossman do when it came HIS final countdown? He shook off two terrible interceptions, two should've-been-picks and constant pocket pressure to lead the Bears down the short field for his first career fourth quarter touchdown pass and a Bears victory.
And where was I when the Rashied Davis caught that beautiful ball in the back of the end zone? Sitting quite comfortably (and screaming incoherently) on Ellis' couch. I had persevered. There were some bad calls (the two-buck chuck, the horse collar penalty on Alex Brown), but we got the job done. A successful wedding and a 3-0 record.
Next Sunday the Seahawks come to Soldier Field for Sunday Night Football. I'll be at home in Chicago and it should be a good game. My parents don't keep any two-buck chuck in the house.
posted by David Stassen at 1:26 PM
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