I would be crying in my beer … if I still drank beer
BEARS, 24-21
Are you as depressed as I am?
I'm always wrong. I haven't picked an NFL score right since going with Sid Luckman's Bears over Sammy Baugh's Redskins and giving the 72 points in the 1940 title game.
And now I get it right? If you scroll down to the prediction below, I said it would be 27-24 Chicago. But only because I knew I would be wrong. I always am.
And maybe I would have been if the NFL hadn't assigned my man Blue to referee the game, or if Mike Holmgren would call a quarterback sneak on third-and-one once in a while, or if Matt Hasselbeck hadn't re-gifted a Rex Grossman pick, or if … heck, I'm just nit-picking here – and being a sore loser.
The Hawks played well, probably better than they had a right to considering the number of key players that didn't play – in that vein, what happened to Mack Strong? Anyone know? He wasn't out there in the second half, which makes me wonder why Holmgren went with a fullback lead on fourth and one.
Did anyone else expect Grossman to self-destruct late and hand the Hawks the win? I kinda wanted Hasselbeck to win the overtime coin toss and say, "We want the Bears to have the ball. Rex will throw us a touchdown." But the much-maligned Bears quarterback made the key throw in OT – as Michael Boulware bit on the short receiver again – and led Chicago to the game-winner.
But still, are you as depressed as I am? What is it about sports that does that to us? Why is it when the team you are following, the team you want to win, fails, we want to claw our eyes out with a ball-peen hammer? Let me know your thoughts on the matter if you want. I'm trying to figure it out.
Whatever it is, I picked a bad week to give up Lloyd Bridges' movies.