Start time now 4:15 ET.

And for those of us who believe football belongs in the snow, Sunday’s game just became memorable.

Next Year Has Arrived

From David Haugh:

“If that’s an issue, it shouldn’t be,” said Martz, the Rams’ head coach when Smith was his defensive coordinator. “There isn’t a better coach or man that I know than Lovie Smith. Ron Turner shouldn’t be in trouble either. If there is a problem there, it’s personnel and not with Lovie or Ron. He’s the same offensive coordinator that took them to the NFC championship game (and Super Bowl).”

I don’t believe anyone ever accused Mike Martz of campaigning, at least publicly, for the offensive coordinator position in Chicago.  But with Chicago’s offense a disaster and Martz’ past relationship with Lovie, it’s an obvious speculation.  If the organization decides to keep Smith, this is a sound move.

I could write a response today to Brad Biggs’ Trib column, outlining the number of penalties committed by the most unfocused Chicago Bears team of my lifetime.  I could write how vehemently I agree with Barry Rozner’s Daily Herald column, arguing that firing Ron Turner is essentially placing a band-aid on a corpse.  But while I’ll be staying focused on objective number one, the firing of Lovie Smith, I do not want this space to become redundant.

This is from Mike Mulligan in the Sun-Times:

Who makes the million-dollar decision if Smith has to go? Or is that the $10 million-plus decision? Who decides the fate of general manager Jerry Angelo or Phillips? The Bears can probably change coordinators and cast off some assistants without consultation, but when it comes to ultimate resolution, there’s still one voice that’s heard.
Virginia, Halas’ only daughter, still attends every game, home and away. She maintains an office at Halas Hall, although she doesn’t go to work on a daily or weekly basis. She is her father’s daughter in terms of being physically spry and spirited with a mind like a steel trap. She still addresses all the rookies and new players once a year, giving them her perspective on Bears history and the legacy of her father. She doesn’t let her children attend those meetings.

It is time for Virginia McCaskey to address Bears fans in the great city of Chicago and around the country.  If her true concern is for the health of the organization her father built with his bare hands, then she needs to make that concern public.  She doesn’t need to give a speech to the networks or sit down with Brad Biggs.  She can take a page out of George Steinbrenner’s book and release a missive, as long as that missive includes the words “this level of play will no longer be tolerated.”

Where oh where did Bears go?

By Mike Imrem | Daily Herald Columnist

Where are the Bears that a lot of us grew up with?

Where are the Monsters of the Midway, win or lose?

Where are the physical, aggressive, intense, tough and strong Bears?

Where’s the blocking?

Where’s the tackling?

Where are the Bears you had no reservations calling by
macho nicknames like Bulldog and Bronko, Super Crunch and Samurai,
Mongo and Danimal, Chico and Jimbo, the Galloping Ghost and the Kansas
Comet.

Where are the blood and sweat to go with the tears?

Where are the Bears who autumn after autumn made even the bad times good?

Where are the Bears that would beat opponents up if they couldn’t beat them?

Where is the tight end that runs over people and the running back that runs through people?

Where’s the hope, false or otherwise?

Where are the Bears who would be at least competitive with a bad quarterback instead of noncompetitive with a good one?

Where’s the head coach who speaks gibberish you want to hear instead of gibberish that drives you nuts?

Where is the head coach who terrorizes officials?

Where indeed is Papa Bear?

Where is Iron Mike?

Where is the draft part of draft and develop?

Where is the develop part of draft and develop?

Where’s Bear weather making a difference, really or mythically?

Where’s the kick returner who was the best ever before becoming an ordinary wide receiver?

Where’s the reckless defense with a supersized tackle called Fridge or Fat Freddy?

Where’s the ability to stop the run on defense and run the ball on offense?

Where’s the head coach with the audacity to clear out a deadbeat’s locker?

Where’s the Bears team that you could like in victory
and respect in defeat, rather than respect in neither and dislike in
either?

Where are the Honey Bears you could both like and respect?

Where are Dougs like Atkins, Buffone and Plank?

Where’s the vim?

Where’s the vigor?

Where have you gone, Walter Payton, a city turns its lonely eyes to you?

Where are the players who symbolized people in seats instead of suites and standing room only instead of personal seat licenses?

Where have the days gone when Bears football was a game
where you could buy a ticket from a street scalper instead of a
business where you can buy one from an online broker?

Where’s the head coach with an appreciation of timeouts?

Where’s the Bears team that makes you feel proud and
privileged to sit in the stands with the wind blowing sleet in your
face just to cheer on their effort?

Where’s the Bears’ pride in anything these days?

Where’s the same page and the single heartbeat, for better or worse?

Where’s the fire?

Where’s the brimstone?

Where are the executives who will tell it like it is, or at least like they think it is, instead of trying to fool fans?

Where is the owner hesitant for whatever reason, financial or friendship, to fire the head coach or general manager?

Seriously, where are those Bears that we grew up with?

When the Dolphins were down, way down, they turned to Bill Parcells.  The Tuna, a Jersey guy who is inarguably the greatest evaluator of talent in the modern era, brought in his own general manager and dumped Cam Cameron after only one year.  (The Dolphins swallowed at least nine million dollars of Cameron’s contract.)  They hired Tony Sporano.  They coaxed Ricky Williams off Marijuana Mountain.  They exiled Twinkle Toes Taylor to D.C. – where star defensive linemen go to die.  The result?  A division title against an albeit light schedule.  Now, in the follow-up year, they’ve handled the loss of their most important player (Ronnie Brown) and remained in the hunt.  The Dolphins are back for good.

From David Haugh’s biting column in the Tribune:

Similarly, the better Devin Aromashodu looked catching his eight passes
for 76 yards and a TD against the NFL’s best cornerback, the more it
indicted Smith and the coaching staff for not playing him sooner. Is it
fair, Lovie, to wonder why Aromashodu didn’t become a factor earlier in
the season?

“No,” Smith said. “I don’t think you can look at it that way.”

Before I begin to question the decision, a few things should be pointed out.  The media sang Devin’s praises throughout training camp with Hub Arkush calling him the most accomplished receiver of the summer.  The fans, specifically myself, believed he earned a shot on the field.  The quarterback has been his biggest advocate.

What’s the reason it took so long for Aromashodu to play?  Devin Hester.  Lovie Smith and this coaching staff have hitched their wagon to the Hester Experiment since removing the most electric kick returner in league history from his natural position.  They knew – because of their vocal quarterback – that Aromashodu would draw the most attention from Jay Cutler and would subsequently cause them to look foolish.  Mark Anderson foolish.  Frank Omiyale foolish.

Devin Hester is not a number one receiver.  He’s a speedy number two.  Unfortunately the Bears found a better version of even that in this year’s draft.  So Hester – the pronounced top dog – has caused the coaching staff to create a series of bullshit plays.  Think about what we didn’t see this week.  What is that shitty bubble screen but a desperate attempt to prove that Hester is a receiver?  What is the dopey end around but a moronic way of proving us all wrong?  Didn’t see much of either this week, did you?  No.  Because they’re Hester-specific calls.

Jay Cutler has thrown too many interceptions.  They’ve been his fault.  They’ve been the fault of the receivers and the coaches.  But Sunday we saw the beginning of a relationship that should have begun in September.  We saw – for the first time all season – a consistent rapport between the man throwing the ball and a man catching it.  Hester is a good player and an exciting talent but he’s not a go-to option at receiver.  Lovie Smith was simply too stubborn to deviate from a misguided plan.      

I was deeply saddened by yesterday’s game.  I thought I could keep a safe distance emotionally and let the game play out in front of me.  I couldn’t.  the first quarter – that brutal first quarter wherein the Bears could have been done three touchdowns – took the life out of my Sunday.  Then something happened.