There are a ton of excuses that we can throw out for why our team has reached maximum sucktitude this season. Our QB's penchant for giving the ball away, our offensive line, our play-calling, our defensive scheme, our secondary, the lack of front-line pressure, our draft prowess, our head coach, et cetera, et cetera.

It's quite easy for us to get frustrated watching the current product that the Bears are putting on display each Sunday. And while I don't particularly live or die on the outcome of a game, I somewhat understand it when people do. That being said...

Can we, as fans - nay - as decent human beings, show some common decency on this board. Desiring for Lovie to get canned is one thing, have at it! However, seriously hoping for him to die so that you can feel happy about a game is simply uncalled for. And I used to think that I had seen it all when posters would wish injury on other players. I know it shouldn't, but people on the interwebs suprise me on the regular.

As someone said last night, WCG was (and still is to me) a breath of fresh air from the typical "my team iz btr than ur team, lolz" type of sport blog. I've learned a ton since becoming a member here, and have definitely raised my football IQ because of it. WCG is, without a doubt, the best damn Chicago Bears sports blog on the internet, I guess I'd just like to keep it that way.

I'll let Ron Burgandy sign us off...

I got into it - okay, maybe provoked - a bit of a picture/story war with one of the DN faithful and wanted to share a little with the folks over here. I hope you enjoy viewing as much as I enjoyed creating. Be sure to click the links (or Easter eggs as I like to refer to them)...

Twas the night before...

Twas the night before the big game, when all through the dome,
The Queens were all stirring, glad that this one was at home.

The mullet was combed with precision and care,
In trepidation that the Bears would soon be there.

Percy and friends were rolling J's in their beds,
While visions of Lance Briggs terrorized their heads.

And papa Chilly in his toupee, with his lucky coin,
Had just started dreaming of massaging Favre's groin.

When out on the lawn, there arose such a clatter,
So Brad zipped up to find out what's the matter.

Away to the window, he flew like a flash,
While Harvin and others threw away their stash.

When, what to their bloodshot eyes should appear,
A sight that induced all their worst fear.

Hester stepped out, so lively and quick,
Their stomachs grew uneasy, they began to feel sick.

And off the bus running, Lovie called them by name,
"Now, Knox! now Forte! now Cutler and Olsen!
On, Harris! on Brown! on, Briggs and on Tillman!

So on to the field, the giant men flew,
With a grudge on the shoulders, and nothing to lose.

And then, in the distance, they all heard Chilly say,
"Please Brett, please. Come and save the day!"

He put down the phone, and got up from where he laid.
Grabbed his walking cane, and put in his hearing aid.

If they lost this one, he knew he'd be the blame,
so he dressed in his wranglers and prepped for the game.

An arsenal of weapons he had at his back,
Much better than he'd ever had with the Pack.

His eyes -- how they wrinkled! His back how it ached!
The many retirements that he perfectly faked!

He knew the Bears defense, from the many games before,
the ones where he threw interceptions galore.

As he grabbed the Ben-Gay off the top shelf,
He imagined a victory, in spite of himself.

A blink of his eye put a thought in his head,
Urlacher's out, one thing less to dread.

A sigh of relief, as he went back to work,
But the tape of Afalava and Bowman gave him a jerk.

O-gun and Brown in his face every play,
No one could save him, not Rice nor All Day!

The game played out, just as he thought,
The Bears were victorious… and screw the rhyming - Favre is OLD!

And have no fear Bears fans - no matter of this games outcome, we'll still have our QB next season!

The eighth game of the Bears season has come and gone and left Bears fans with yet another bitter taste of blowout at the hands of the Arizona Cardinals. While not ALL's completely lost, this (below) is what I've taken from the NFL, week nine.

Chicago Bears Edition

> For his sake, I really hope that Lovie Smith doesn't have to prepare his own taxes.

> If a tree fell in the woods and no one were around to hear it, could somebody please stop Larry Fitzgerald?

> Tommie Harris punches like a girl. A girl that can punch... and likes to take cheap shots.

> On a related note, I think Tommie's figured out a way not to practice this week.

> It's bad, very bad. But hey, at least we didn't lose to the 1-7, Josh Freeman led, Buccaneers (silver lining?).

> Magical mushrooms make Forte run fast... wait... what?!?

Continue reading this post »

This is a tad bit late, but you know what they say...

With the trick that our beloved Bears played on us last weekend in the Cincy Jungle, the NFL has provided us with a treat this weekend by giving us the Cleveland Brownies in our house.

I wanna dedicate this thread to all things Halloween. So, let's talk:

Continue reading this post »

Jay Cutler is a bum!

I hope you've been doing some upper body lifting, Mr. Cutler, because this loss (along with every loss from here on out) will be on your shoulders. Throwing interceptions is inexcusable and will not be tolerated in our city, where god-like quarterback play has been a staple of our team for years.

Continue reading this post »