I was rudely awakened this morning by a rough rocking motion of my van. I pulled the new floral print curtains aside to see what was going on. The Chicago River had a strange fog shrouding it due to the sub zero temperature. My homeless buddies were out there rocking my van to wake me up. They were wild-eyed and jabbing there fingers towards the sky.
Squinting skyward through the mist and dirty window I beheld an incredible sight...it was Saint Ditka. He was smiling down upon Chicago with a polish sausage in one hand and a football in the other. I stumbled out of the van to get a better look.
Someone in the throng screamed, "Lo, he speaketh!" A deep rumbling ensued, akin to thunder. There were flashes of lightning arcing from His Holy eyes. Seated at his right side was Saint Walter and on his left, Saint Singletary.
In unison they bellowed, "DA.....Bearz, da Bearz, da Bearz.......DA....Bearz, da Bearz, da Bearz..."
The hypnotic chanting continued as Chicago citizens, awakened from their frigid slumber, crawled from the warmth and safety of their cocoons with waddling toddlers in tow and began singing as one, "Bear down Chicago Bears..."
Meanwhile, 200 miles to the south great storm clouds had gathered over a once-proud city in Indiana. The frightened citizens looked skyward and agonized as they witnessed a certain Peyton Manning crawling on hands and knees through a gauntlet of the '85 Bears team and being paddled mercilessly.
There was great wailing and gnashing of teeth that could be heard throughout the countryside. Grown men were crying as they realized their foolish mistake of picking the Colts and giving the Bears 7 points.Happy Super Bowl Sunday, everyone!!!