November, we were told, would be the month the bunch of bums currently calling themselves Chicago Bears would make their mettle. Far from pretenders, said bunch of bums would rise up against the best of the NFL and establish themselves on the mantle of the "elite."
But as Axl Rose once said, "it's hard to hold a candle in the cold November rain," and in dreary San Francisco, Bear fans holding a candle for a fraud of a team that had made its bones by beating up on tomato cans all year watched the flame flicker out. In a demoralizing, disgusting, and absolutely inexcusable display of ennui, the aforementioned bunch of bums came out and laid an egg the likes of which hadn't been seen since the Dave Wannstedt era in surrendering to the 49ers 32-to-7. And thus does the shoopster break it down . . .
. . . It starts, as always, with the quarterback, in this case the backup one at that, and yet another it seems the Bears braintrust - if you can call it that - badly misevaluated. Jason "Caleb" Campbell looked first disinterested, then mildly annoyed at having to exert himself, then frightened, and finally dazed and confused about his whereabouts in a performance for the ages. Campbell began the game warily, clearly not excited about the prospect of reviving his woebegone NFL career with a showcase start or two, and after the hits started coming, he folded, much like, of course, his predecessor, "Oh" Jay Cutler. As such, it will be tempting for apologists to blame the disinterest of Bear quarterbacks on the putrid offensive line, but nothing is further from the truth. Campbell, like Cutler, frightens easily, and he looked like a scared child out there last night. Scared most of all to throw the ball. Not trusting himself or his receivers, Campbell elected instead to hold onto the ball and allow his body - one admittedly more forgiving than the brittle Cutler's - to absorb the abuse. But even studs wilt over time. By the fourth quarter, Campbell was woozy, and rather than signal complete surrender by sending in Josh McC(l)own, the Bears kept him out there, perhaps as penance for the disinterest with which he opened the game. Campbell deserved it . . .
. . . Matt "Don't Call Me Fort, or Forty For That Matter" Forte ran alright, but just alright. The Bears never bothered trying to establish the run at the outset, or maybe they did but couldn't figure out how to do it - it was tough to tell what the offensive gameplan was. But it didn't feature Forte. His partner in grime, Michael "Bird in the Hand" Bush, continued to serve as living proof that the body atrophies with inactivity, looking slower than ever. Bush, like Campbell, has been a big-name, big-money disappointment. Put that on the offensive strategy all you want, but neither of these guys have lived up to their advance billing or their paycheck, and at some point, personal pride has to come into play. If, that is, one has any . . .
. . . Brandon Marshall didn't drop any passes this week, but then he only had four targets so it's not really his fault he didn't deliver on his weekly occurrence of flubbing a TD pass. He did catch one, and a fine catch it was. Then, the model teammate went to the sideline and began berating his teammates, as if four months and a couple of good games suddenly make him some sort of elder statesman. The cancer - implanted it should be noted by Cutler himself, who has refused to hold Marshall publicly the way he has his other offensive mates and chosen instead to pat Marshall on the head and giggle conspiratorily with him on the sideline after big-bust drops - is growing . . .
. . . In exchange for showing up and providing professional level offensive line play, the pride of "Meathead" Mike Tice rewarded with comic relief. Be in J'Marcus Webb whiffing on a blocker and having Forte confront him mid-huddle with palms upturned as if to say "huh?," Chilo "Chimichanga" Rachal's multiple holding penalties, or Gabe "Kaplan" Carimi looking like a little girl playing a strange game of backpedal-pattycake with whomever he was asked to try to block, the offensive line elicited not so much concern but laughter, the greatest of which came when the aforementioned Rachal located a Campbell fumble in the Bears endzone, didn't appear to know what to do, then picked up the ball to try to run the ball out to prevent a safety, only to have the ball swatted forward out of his hands by one of his fellow linemates. The comedy of errors was something even the referees had trouble figuring out what to do with before mercifully taking the ball away from the Bears and awarding the 49ers a safety.
This line, it can now be said after three years of Mike Tice's "expertise," is a failure, and that failure lies right at the feet of Mike Tice. He has picked these guys, he has shuffled them around out of position, and he has dug his heels in stubbornly on guys like Webb and Carimi, both of whom are clearly among the worst linemen in the NFL. No more can Mike Tice escape scrutiny for the woe he has wrought with this group. And yet, this isn't even Tice's biggest failure on this team . . .
. . . No, that would be the execution of his duties as offensive coordinator. Clearly confused, Tice has even less of a focus and a mission than "Madman" Mike Martz, who at least knew what he was trying to do. Tice does not. He appeared to want to establish the run early, though three quick stuffs of Matt Forte quickly dissuaded him. At that point, he had no idea what to do with Jason Campbell. There didn't appear to be one play drawn up to take advantage of anything Campbell can do, whatever it is that might be. Instead, Campbell looked uncomfortable all night as he was reduced to a pocket passer behind a **** poor line. Tice made no adjustments until the Bears were down by 20, when then laughably and in desperation he tried to reestablish the run. Jeremy Bates, for his part, appears to only be around to help Jay Cutler - his input as "passing coordinator" clearly was helping the meathead. In all, it was a defining performance by Tice, who was exposed as the fraud of an OC he is . . .
. . . Exposed as well was Lovie "Cancha See That Frown? I Might Not Get That Undeserved Extension After All If I Don't Figure This Out Quick, and Damned If I Know How to Figure Anything Out More Than Once Every Five Offseasons" Smith. His defense looked old and dated, coming out in a reactionary stance against Jim Harbaugh's masterful offense. Worse than that, and as usual, the defense made no adjustments. They just allowed themselves to get picked apart up and down the field, as they usually do in Lovie's "bend a whole lot and break only a little bit" Cover-"Few", but this time against a good team that knows how to take care of the ball, the panacea that covers up their ills - the turnover - was nowhere to be found. Tape of this game is spreading like wildfire throughout the league you can bet, and it is likely that the Bears' days of pick-six celebrations and "peanut-punch" bravado are over. From here on out, it will be up to Lovie and Rod Marinelli - he of the 0-and-16, so you know how good he is at adjustments - to find a new formula to remain competitive. We all know how well that always goes . . .
. . . Other notes: Julius "layin'" Peppers "& eggs" laid another one - completely invisible. Chris "Chilli con" Conte quite the opposite, with a whole lotta tv time of his backside chasing receivers who somehow got behind him down the field. "Father of the Year" Lance Briggs - completely manhandled. Brian "Hollywood" Urlacher, old, slow, a ghost. And Charles "Me-Nut" Tillman, still laughingly trying to punch balls out of receivers' hands rather than tying them up and bringing them to the turf . . .
. . . But special mention goes to one "Dumb" Devin Hester, who made a fool of himself all night on offense and special teams. On the former, upon catching 2 passes off poorly run routes, he immediately dove for the turf, whether or not a defender was near him. The "Devin Dive" did nothing so much as accentuate the fact that Hester never knows where he is on an NFL field, or who is around him. On the latter, amid MNF announcers noting that Hester is inconceivably not ranked in the Top 25 in either punt or kickoff returns, Hester took juking and jiving to a new level by literally fielding a fourth quarter punt and immediately taking five steps backward away from an onrush at least 7 yards upfield. After repeated losses on punt returns, Hester got his jayhole on and pouted his way back to the offensive huddle, where of course he mis-ran a few more routes, one resulting in a Campbell interception. In anointing Hester all sorts of duties he is ill-equiped to handle, the Bears have confused this simple, sensitive man and ruined him as an NFL player. It may be the single greatest failure of the Lovie Smith regime . . .
. . . but maybe, though, that failure will end up being the uninspired 3-and-3 or 2-and-4 this team in disarray is about to embark upon. Of course, Lovie will take to the podium toay as he did last night and erroneously claim that the Bears remain "atop the division," which they don't, and suggest that "we all" need to do better rather than taking a deserved look at the Hesters, the Carimis, the Webbs, the Campbells, the Contes, the - yes - the Urlachers, and determining whether the guys standing behind them could realistically do any worse. Accountability means nothing on this team, which of course is an edict that comes right from stupid, senile ol' Ginny McCaskey, the so-called "patriarch" of the NFL who'd no sooner change her Depends than the Head Coach who's gone to the playoffs, as he noted at the end of last season, "once in the last two years" (and of course nonce in the three years prior to that either) yet obediently follows her to mass every Sunday. Why should the players have pride in performance, one asks himself, when the Owner has made it clear the Head Coach doesn't have to? . . .