da bears.
i cannot stop thinking about football season.
there is precious little in my life to be excited about these days, but even if there were, i know i would feel the same.
i've had my teddy bear since the day i was born, and when i was little, he used to look different to me than other objects... brighter, somehow. i'm not sure quite how to explain it, but in scanning a room, he would just stand out, as if he appeared in technicolor against everything else's more muted tones. that's how special he is. i think love causes certain objects or people to shine. teddy shines. andy shines. and football season shines.
i look forward to every sunday between september and january with unadulterated glee. and i get a little bit depressed when the game is over for another week. i get REALLY depressed when the season is over for another year. february through july appear bland and colorless by comparison. then comes august, training camp and exhibition games. in themselves, not exciting, but their portent is exciting.
the yelling, the beer, the convivial fan competition, the perennial conviction that THIS is the year. our year. a return to the glory of '85. anything is possible.
for my (yes, "my") team, the super bowl has been more or less (primarily more) out of reach for the last 19 years. since the last time. the glorious last time. i was 8. i remember NOTHING of the game. well, not nothing. i just remember no specific details. the details are post-remembered, thanks to NFL highlight reels. i do remember having to babysit my brother and two younger next door neighbors while my parents went next door to watch. i distinctly remember telling the kids to sit down and shut up, couldn't they see i was trying to watch the GAME?!
i was 8.
that is my first clear memory of bears fandom. i could have chosen a more likely team. after that near-perfect season (marred only by a loss to the dolphins, themselves being the only team in NFL history to complete a perfect season...you'd think they'd have understood), we never made it again. not even close, really. and sometimes depressingly far away...
chicago fans are special, though. loyal almost to a fault. and to be there in the stadium, to be counted among them...there is nothing like sharing in the roar of the crowd at a perfectly executed reception or a particularly well-thrown block. my first live bears game happened to be the last game ever played at old soldier field, and i count myself lucky to have been in attendance...
it is a fantasy of mine to someday hold season tickets...it saddens me that geographic and economic circumstances may prevent me from someday fulfilling my fantasy. bears' season tickets held by a resident of rural rwanda or costa rica (also fantasies of mine) don't fall under the category of 'most practical things you can do with your money'...what a great legacy to pass on, though...not only love of sport and team, but love of hard, cramped stadium seating, handed down from one generation to the next...i could wax poetic all day. i'd call it 'ode to portable grills, layered clothing and winter-bearded men in dayglo hunting gear.'
instead, i will stop and admit that the late hour is making me silly and romantic. i can cheer my bears to victory (or defeat) just fine from my own couch...but, man. if only.
i will sit on my couch (or, this year, in a bar, because north carolina doesn't see fit to broadcast bears games locally) and scream alternately with excitement and indignation, never swerving in my loyalty.
because the bears shine.
there is precious little in my life to be excited about these days, but even if there were, i know i would feel the same.
i've had my teddy bear since the day i was born, and when i was little, he used to look different to me than other objects... brighter, somehow. i'm not sure quite how to explain it, but in scanning a room, he would just stand out, as if he appeared in technicolor against everything else's more muted tones. that's how special he is. i think love causes certain objects or people to shine. teddy shines. andy shines. and football season shines.
i look forward to every sunday between september and january with unadulterated glee. and i get a little bit depressed when the game is over for another week. i get REALLY depressed when the season is over for another year. february through july appear bland and colorless by comparison. then comes august, training camp and exhibition games. in themselves, not exciting, but their portent is exciting.
the yelling, the beer, the convivial fan competition, the perennial conviction that THIS is the year. our year. a return to the glory of '85. anything is possible.
for my (yes, "my") team, the super bowl has been more or less (primarily more) out of reach for the last 19 years. since the last time. the glorious last time. i was 8. i remember NOTHING of the game. well, not nothing. i just remember no specific details. the details are post-remembered, thanks to NFL highlight reels. i do remember having to babysit my brother and two younger next door neighbors while my parents went next door to watch. i distinctly remember telling the kids to sit down and shut up, couldn't they see i was trying to watch the GAME?!
i was 8.
that is my first clear memory of bears fandom. i could have chosen a more likely team. after that near-perfect season (marred only by a loss to the dolphins, themselves being the only team in NFL history to complete a perfect season...you'd think they'd have understood), we never made it again. not even close, really. and sometimes depressingly far away...
chicago fans are special, though. loyal almost to a fault. and to be there in the stadium, to be counted among them...there is nothing like sharing in the roar of the crowd at a perfectly executed reception or a particularly well-thrown block. my first live bears game happened to be the last game ever played at old soldier field, and i count myself lucky to have been in attendance...
it is a fantasy of mine to someday hold season tickets...it saddens me that geographic and economic circumstances may prevent me from someday fulfilling my fantasy. bears' season tickets held by a resident of rural rwanda or costa rica (also fantasies of mine) don't fall under the category of 'most practical things you can do with your money'...what a great legacy to pass on, though...not only love of sport and team, but love of hard, cramped stadium seating, handed down from one generation to the next...i could wax poetic all day. i'd call it 'ode to portable grills, layered clothing and winter-bearded men in dayglo hunting gear.'
instead, i will stop and admit that the late hour is making me silly and romantic. i can cheer my bears to victory (or defeat) just fine from my own couch...but, man. if only.
i will sit on my couch (or, this year, in a bar, because north carolina doesn't see fit to broadcast bears games locally) and scream alternately with excitement and indignation, never swerving in my loyalty.
because the bears shine.