Spin Moves

What happens when two North Carolina basketball players take a leap of faith? The criticism and judgment comes from all angles. That’s why Spin Moves columnist Dan Wiederer is here to offer you his bipolar judgment.

DUMB AND DUMBER

Oh.

My.

God.

Andrew Tyler Hansbrough! Robert John Frasor! What in heaven were you thinking?

Jumping off the second story of a fraternity house?

Into a 4-foot deep pool?

Who do you think you are? Johnny Knoxville and Steve-O? Bo and Luke Duke?

This is pure insanity.

What you two nincompoops did last week, leaping from the balcony of the Sigma Alpha Epsilon fraternity house wasn’t just brainless and dangerous. It was flat out irresponsible.

Sure Tyler, you may be the unanimous National Player of the Year in college basketball. But after a stunt like that it’s safe to say you won’t be winning any intelligence awards from MENSA.
At last check, you measured in at 6-foot-9 and 250 pounds. And yet somehow, in a moment of obvious indiscretion, you failed to consider that a couple thousand gallons of water might not be enough to cushion your cannonball run?

And Bobby – could you be any more immature? You missed 27 games last season after tearing the left anterior cruciate ligament in your left knee. You said over and again that it was both frustrating and heartbreaking to spend January and February and March watching UNC’s magical run to the Final Four from the bench wearing a suit. And yet now, as you aim to make your final season of college basketball the greatest of your entire life, you’re willing to throw three months of grueling rehab – not to mention a lifetime of dreams – out the window with one silly decision at a frat party?

This is purely conjecture here. But if I know anything about college, if I know anything about fraternity parties and if I know anything about crowd-pleasing balcony leaps, I can say with great confidence that your brains had to be a little cloudy at the time of your Rodney Dangerfield-esque Triple Lindys.

Usually such decisions are made with a little peer pressure and some of that old-fashioned nudging from bottled friends named Bud and Popov and Jack Daniels.

Don’t you kids understand the perils of drinking too much? Don’t you see the danger in what you did?

Tyler, what if you had messed up your leg or, worse, broken your neck? And Bobby, what if in the midst of your comeback from knee surgery, you wound up with two torn ACLs and all that regret?
That wouldn’t have been so funny now, would it?

Besides, you two had to know that this stunt was going to get out to the masses. With guys like you, there are cameras around every corner. Heck, don’t you still have that photo from a few years back where you stood side-by-side in a bar with Bobby flipping the bird? Don’t you remember the racket that caused?

You kids better start learning from your mistakes. These antics won’t be tolerated much longer.

Get your acts together. And the next time you’re at a party, stay on the first floor!

*****
WHO HASN’T THOUGHT ABOUT JUMPING OFF A BALCONY?

Tyler Hansbrough and Bobby Frasor aren’t idiots. They’re college kids.

It just so happens that a lot of college kids act like idiots. Especially at the end of the school year.

Simple as that.

Confession time: on my graduation morning 10 years ago in Champaign, Ill., I woke up in an eight-bedroom house that looked like Vince Vaughn and the entire cast of “Rock of Love” had blown through.

The front door was completely off its hinges. Half-eaten pieces of Tombstone pizza were on the floor and smeared on the couch. And my buddy, Tim, with Wite-Out smeared across his nipples was slowly waking up in the downstairs shower after falling asleep on the front porch.
How he got from Point A to Point B is still unclear. But hey, that’s just college.

Ridiculous things happen and sometimes there’s no reasonable way to explain them.

So we just blush the next morning, shake our heads at the stupidity and thank the good lord that our devilish antics didn’t turn out much, much worse.

So what if Hansbrough and Frasor suffered from a momentary lapse in judgment? It doesn’t mean they’re burrito-brained nitwits more reckless than David Blaine.

It just means that they’re 21- and 22-year old kids prone to very bad 21- and 22-year old decisions.

We’ve all been there. Maybe you once rode a friend down a staircase like a sled like I once ran down the street wearing only a Speedo and an afro wig.

It’s part of growing up.

Life certainly doesn’t let you get away with such shenanigans in your 30s, so Frasor and Hansbrough may as well get them out of their systems now.

The only difference here is that these two are stars on one of the nation’s most renowned college basketball programs. And they’re living their college lives in the age of I-Phones and You Tube where every last thing they do – from signing autographs to picking their nose in class to going Greg Louganis off the top of a frat house – has the potential to wind up in 2.5 million Inboxes the next morning.

Sure, it was a senseless decision that could have ended with very bad consequences. Sure, they took their own basketball careers and UNC’s 2009 Final Four hopes and put them in serious jeopardy for a cheap thrill and a few boisterous cheers.

But I can guarantee you that on April 25, 2008, the 2009 Final Four was the last thing on their college minds.

Unlike the rest of us, who are planning our lives well into the future, college is about living for the moment. Even if those moments are sometimes rowdy and dangerous and lead us to do a few things we wish we hadn’t done.

The Week 13 installment of Dan Wiederer’s Chicago Bears postgame review.

By Dan Wiederer

First down: ARRRRRRRUUUUUGGGGGGHHHH!!!!!!

I can’t explain it. But this loss made me angrier than any other loss this season. I was breathing fire. Think the Viking from that gas station Snickers commercial. Because I may very well have shotput a metal trash can across the bar Sunday afternoon had I had access to one.

I don’t know why this loss irritated me so much. All year long we’ve known the Bears are a coin-flip team: win one week, lose the next. And letting a game they had in control slip away probably just evens out the undeserved wins they pulled out against Philly and Denver.

It’s just that the NFC playoff race is so muddled and so mediocre and the difference between being a playoff team and an also-ran in a year like this is so minute. (Exhibit A: the Arizona Cardinals currently hold the advantage for the second NFC wild card position.)

Perhaps what’s so bothersome is that the Bears really seemed to dominate Sunday’s game for three quarters. Brian Urlacher intercepted Eli Manning just 2 minutes into the game and the Bears immediately capitalized with a precise nine-play, 79-yard touchdown drive with Rex Grossman going 5-for-5 for 71 yards and finishing it all with a 1-yard TD toss to Desmond Clark.

If there ever was a sign that this was going to be the Bears’ day, it was Grossman looking calm in the shotgun, reading the defense with a fighter pilot’s precision and zipping his passes as if they were barroom darts. Meanwhile, Eli was over on the other sideline with his whole dopey, mopey “I hate not being my brother” frown. It had the chance to be a blowout.

Still, this Bears team has a way of squandering opportunities worse than any other in recent memory. And when the score was 16-7 heading into the fourth quarter, I just knew the Giants would score twice and win the game. I said it out loud. It happened. It made me angrier than I’ve been all season.

Second down: About those squandered opportunities…

For the first time in two years, it’s probably safe to pile a good portion of the blame on the shoulders of Devin Hester. If you can catch him.

As we all know, the Bears’ hot start Sunday injected Soldier Field with a swagger we haven’t seen since the NFC Championship game 11 months ago. The fans were loud. The players were pumped. The defense, with Urlacher and Adewale Ogunleye and Mark Anderson and Charles Tillman making big plays, seemed like the vaunted, aggressive defense of old.

Early in the second quarter with a 7-0 lead, the Bears had a dagger in the air. It was in the form of an 81-yard Grossman touchdown bomb headed in the direction of Hester, who made no discernible move on the play yet still had the New York cornerback beat by 7 yards. Literally. It was disgusting.

I came 3 feet out of my chair and threw up both fists. It was about to be 14-0 Bears, Eli is pouting, the Giants are in late-season freefall and we’re about to watch Hester race us into position for a playoff berth. And then the ball hit the top half of the “3” on the left side of Hester’s jersey and fell to the ground. Incomplete pass.

So frozen with disbelief, the Bears took a delay of game penalty then a sack and punted their playoff hopes away.

Third down: When God was handing out brains, the Bears thought he said pains and asked for little ones.

Hester had help in the “Oops!” department. The runner-up for biggest brain fart of the game: offensive coordinator Ron Turner. A brilliant gameplan to start the afternoon in a no-huddle, hurry-up offense put the Giants on their heels and gave Grossman the requisite urgency that prevented him from thinking too much. The result: that nine-play, opening possession touchdown drive.

And then the Bears completely abandoned the strategy. It was like two weeks before in Seattle when Cedric Benson broke out for 66 yards in the first quarter, then touched the ball just seven times the rest of the game.

It’s as if Turner refuses to believe that something that works early in a game can continue to work later on. I’m not saying the Bears should have stayed in hurry-up for the rest of the game. But at least mix it in here and there. Give the Giants something to think about, something to possibly freak out over.

After the game, Lovie Smith said he thought the no-huddle attack was a gimmick that served its purpose early but would have lost its potency later in the game. All I know is that even an impotent no-huddle attack would have been able to match the Bears’ zero touchdowns in the game’s final 54 minutes.

But the biggest brain fart of the game came courtesy of offensive lineman Terrence Metcalf.

With the Bears leading 13-7 in the third quarter and deep in Giants territory thanks to an Ogunleye fumble recovery, the time was right to put another exclamation point stamp on the game. Then Metcalf went all David Beckham on us by kicking a Giant in the head after a second down Adrian Peterson run.

Nice work, Snoop.

Instead of facing a third-and-four at the Giants 7, the Bears were backed up into third-and-19 at the 22. Grossman took a sack on the next play and the Bears had to settle for three points instead of seven.

It was a penalty that was nothing short of stupid. In the NFL, minor mistakes often lose football games. Major mental blunders do.

With the way this season has gone, it’s official. I’m marketing the T-shirts: “We came all the way to red zone and all we got was this stupid Robbie Gould field goal.”

Fourth down: Keep 21 in your prayers tonight.

The Bears now get a Thursday night, NFL Network-sponsored date in Washington against the grieving ‘Skins.

I’m sorry. But am I the only one who thinks the coverage of Sean Taylor’s murder has been a bit excessive and heavy-handed?

Cut to Sunday morning’s Fox NFL pregame show. It starts out like every other week with this fast-paced action montage, blending clips of Will Smith’s new movie, “I am Legend,” with highlight reel plays from NFL stars like Tony Romo, Reggie Bush and Hester.

But there’s no easy segue to talk about Taylor. So they pan across the studio where Howie, Terry, Jimmy and Curt Menefee are sitting uncomfortably preparing to give their respective eulogies and analysis.

First though, comes the gentle piano music – you know, one of the eight canned melodies from the “Now That’s What I Call a Tragedy” soundtrack. Now all the NFL analysts have to act like they are crushed by Taylor’s death. Jimmy Johnson was trying his damndest to make his voice crack. You know, because we all have to be crushed by this.

Look, I understand it’s senseless and sad when a 24-year-old kid loses his life. But that doesn’t mean it has to have this profound impact on everyone who’s ever played or watched football.

Thank God the boys in the studio sent it over to Jay Glazer himself who provided this invaluable nugget of insight: “Guys, I spoke with Redskins officials this morning and they told me they don’t know what to expect, that there is no gameplan for dealing with this kind of tragedy.”

Really? There’s not? No gameplan? I thought you could just run a no-huddle and some sort of Cover 2 and that would perfectly account for tragedy. Thank God we have Jay Glazer to set the record straight.
I’m sure I sound pretty insensitive here. But I’m sorry, Sean Taylor wasn’t any sort of hero to me. I feel very badly for the close friends and teammates and family members and especially his 18-month-old daughter.

But to the majority of us, the guy was nothing more than a very good football player, an open-field missile who could blow you up if you weren’t looking – just ask Bills punter Brian Moorman – and a loutish thug whose temper might cause him to spit in your face – just ask Tampa Bay’s Michael Pittman.

As for these universal accounts that Taylor had turned his life around, sorry if I’m just a wee bit skeptical. Maybe he had made strides in his maturity and maybe the June 2006 birth of his daughter gave him a new perspective on life. But I’m not so sure any 24-year-old can wake up one day, figure life out in a blink and then change everything he does accordingly. I say this as a former wild 24-year-old and now as a more grounded 30-year-old who still has major difficulty ditching bad habits.

Again, it’s a shame Taylor lost his life. Those closest to him are justified in crying and grieving and treating this shock with the utmost sorrow. It just shouldn’t be an obligation for the rest of us.

I like this kind of party: Bears 37, Broncos 34 (OT)

The Week 12 installment of Dan Wiederer’s Chicago Bears postgame review.

By Dan Wiederer

First down: Miss, could you please hurry up with my sausage?

Just so you know, watching Devin Hester return punts for touchdowns live and in person is exactly the same as seeing it on TV. Early in the third quarter Sunday, yours truly was stuck in the Soldier Field concourse watching Hester’s game-changing punt return on a fuzzy 14-inch monitor as Tiffany, the friendly and pokey concession stand attendant, took her sweet ass time rounding up a couple Italian sausages.

“Uh, sweetie. This fat ass in front of me doesn’t need the extra cheese on his nachos. The Bears have got Denver in third-and-long here. If this dude does all need that glop, just give him the whole vat and he can take it back to his seat.”

So much for trying to take advantage of an uncharacteristically fast halftime bathroom line. Seriously. When you emerge from the men’s room with more than 10 minutes left on the halftime clock, there seems to be little danger in jumping in line for a bite to eat. The logic: even if the line moves slower than the Eisenhower at rush hour, you’ll only miss three plays. At most.

As it turns out, I missed four, watching Hester zip, dart and blur through the Denver punt coverage as good ol’ Tiffany slid my snack across the counter. It triggered the most bizarre touchdown celebration in the history of the NFL.

Trying to process what had just happened, I pounded my fist on the counter and yelled a disbelieving expletive – part ecstatic that the Bears had just tied the game and more infuriated that I had missed the moment in exchange for a lukewarm and rubbery piece of sausage.
At least Hester did me a favor no more than 20 minutes later by taking a kickoff back for a touchdown to become just the second player since 1970 to return both a punt and a kickoff for a score in the same quarter.

The dude is flat ridiculous. What was even sweeter about Sunday’s explosion was that Hester gave us a pair of classic celebrations, first returning the punt to the end zone and racing into the tunnel ala Bo Jackson in 1987. Then on the kick return TD, he gave us a dash of Neon Deion, left hand on the back of his head as he sashayed into the end zone.

Hester now has six touchdowns this season, more than any other player on the Bears. In his career, now just 30 games old including the postseason, he has 12 touchdowns. That’s two more than good ol’ Cedric Benson has in his three years in the NFL.

Imagine if this guy sticks around for nine or 10 years. Someone get on the T-shirt ideas. There has to be money to be made here.

Second down: The Bears won because of Hester, Adrian Peterson, Bernard Berrian, Charles Tillman and two wonderfully timed penalty flags.

Need an example of just how thin the line between exhilarating victory and stunning defeat can be in the NFL? Consult Broncos coach Mike Shanahan, whose team committed five penalties for 28 yards Sunday. Two of those normally insignificant errors turned into major destruction. The first came with 7:37 to play and Denver leading 34-20. The game was all but over. All Todd Sauerbrun had to do was get off a decent punt away from Hester and the Broncos could put the Bears’ drowsy offense to sleep and yawn to victory.

Sauerbrun did his part with a perfect kick that pinned the Bears at their own 10. But Denver was flagged for an illegal formation on the play with too few men lined up on the line of scrimmage. So because one punt coverage gunner was a footstep back of the line of scrimmage, the Broncos had to kick again.

And here came Charles Tillman off the left side of the line to block Sauerbrun’s punt, the Bears’ hopes suddenly bounding forward toward the end zone. The Bears eventually recovered the ball at the Denver 18 – a full 72 yards closer to the goal line from where the ball had come to rest just 12 seconds earlier. Four plays later, Chicago had cut the score to 34-27 when Adrian Peterson and his offensive line plowed Denver’s defense into the house.

The punt block call by special teams coach Dave Toub was brilliant. With Denver so afraid of Hester – think about that, kicking to this guy is now more dangerous than getting a punt blocked – there was no way the Broncos were going to keep nine or 10 guys in to protect Sauerbrun.

But Toub’s genius call came only after he had one punt and a silly Denver penalty to think about it.

Later, the Broncos’ fatal gaffe came with 2:42 to play on a Bears fourth-and-9 play when Dre Bly bumped Muhsin Muhammad 20 yards from the line of scrimmage, drawing an illegal contact flag that allowed Chicago’s game-tying drive to continue.

Two things to note about that penalty: a) Bly’s bump was less violent than the nudges you give trying to squeeze your way through a crowded bar; and b) it let Muhammad off the hook for dropping what was a beautiful throw from the clutch-more-often-than-you-think Grossman.

Seriously. Look around the NFL and watch how most big time wide receivers catch passes like that, hands over head, falling backwards. But somehow Muhammad makes it look as if he’s trying to haul in a hot iron, clumsily letting the ball hit his hands, his helmet, the turf.

Of course, Grossman would have drawn the heat for that incompletion anyway. So let’s just get the whole team together at Halas Hall to chip in for a nice “Thank you” cake to send the Broncos for their well-timed penalties.

Third down: Berrian’s game-tying touchdown catch may have been one of the single greatest catches in NFL history.

It’s a damn shame the Bears are so mediocre and that in the grand scheme of things, Sunday’s win meant little more than a celebratory drive home. Had the Bears been what we thought they were back in August – say 9-2 and fighting with Dallas for home field advantage in the NFC – then Berrian’s 3-yard touchdown catch on fourth down with 28 seconds to play would have gone down in Bears lore as one of the most clutch and extraordinary grabs ever.

If you get a chance, watch the replay again. The play had to be executed perfectly. Not only was Berrian one-on-one with the NFL’s premier corner, Champ Bailey, but he had to make a wicked stop-cut back toward the right side of the end zone on a field that was slicker than Bill Clinton at a sorority mixer.

With a cold drizzle frosting Soldier Field all day long, dudes were falling down all over the place. They were falling down on 2-yard runs, falling down trying to make routine tackles, falling down just breaking the huddle.

Had they called that last play for me, it would have looked like one of those old Looney Tunes bits where Yosemite Sam goes horizontal after stepping on a banana peel.

But making the cut was only half the battle for Berrian. He then had to extend his long arms, snag a laser from Grossman, get a knee down in bounds and maintain possession of it the whole way through.

He did.

It’s truly incredible to watch. Gravity alone seems like it would cause the ball to move just a bit when Berrian slides out of bounds with Bailey on top of him. But nothing. The ball remained as still as Jimmy Johnson’s hair.

Touchdown Bears. Season still alive.

Fourth down: What’s the opposite of a silver lining?

Is there such thing? If not, we need to come up with one. I keep thinking “rain on your parade” would fit, but it reminds me too much of Alanis Morissette.

Anyway, the walk out of Soldier Field and back to the cheap, indoor parking garage at Jackson at Wabash was nothing short of euphoric, fans turning the pedestrian tunnel under Lake Shore Drive into a deafening cacophony of delight.

There were more man-on-man hugs down there than at half-price martini night at The Manhole.

Why? Because as the Fox graphics will tell you, the Bears are only one game out of a wildcard spot, in a cluster of mediocrity with Washington, Philadelphia, Minnesota and New Orleans.

Imagine if they could have just split with the freakin’ Lions.

But here comes the rain on your parade. The Bears are not a playoff team. Playoff teams don’t surrender an average of 356 yards per game. Playoff teams don’t turn the ball over four times in a big game, once after the defense gets a takeaway inside the red zone. Playoff teams don’t allow opponents to score 30 points or more as the Bears have done five times this season.

So don’t think for a minute that a team that hasn’t won back-to-back games all year is suddenly going to run off six straight wins to close the season with a porous defense, a feeble offensive line and a quarterback who is maddeningly inconsistent and fumble-prone.

Look, the Giants are coming to town this week. They lead the NFL in sacks with 38. They have 20 takeaways on the season. Translation: Rex is bound to take a beating.

So too will the Bears, who have proven that they are nothing more than a coin-flip team: win one week, lose the next. A 7-9 or 8-8 record is practically inevitable.

Accept that reality and enjoy the rest of the season for the entertainment value.

One more thing: since I was a kid, my dad has been vocal with his theory that the NFL, like professional wrestling, is fixed. He claims, only half-jokingly, that the bookies have their hand in everything, especially at this point in the season when trends seem obvious and it’s easy to lure people into tantalizing bets. How else do you explain undefeated New England, a 24-point favorite at home over an Eagles team the Bears beat, barely squeaking out a win?

My dad’s explanation: it’s fixed.

We joke about it all the time. But parts of that Bears-Broncos game sure seemed to lend credence to the theory. Not only were those two aforementioned penalties a bit suspicious in their timing. But take a look at Tillman’s blocked punt.

It couldn’t have been executed any better by Hollywood actors with Sauerbrun taking the snap, turning right toward the rushing cornerback and practically aiming his foot for the 3’s on Tillman’s jersey.

I’m not saying, I’m just saying.

And if that’s the case, the marketing machine that is the NFL just might have had something to gain from a New York-Chicago prime time match-up where both teams are still alive for the playoffs.

Just a random, stream-of-consciousness post on the Sean Taylor situation…

Often we treat our athletes like livestock. We put numbers on them. We evaluate them based on their usefulness to our teams. And we’ll send them away without much thought, unless they’re truly special.

This is especially true in football, where we even put helmets on these athletes to hide their faces, only further numbing our ability to see them as anything but numbers.

Sean Taylor, to me, has been No. 21. I don’t know him. Never cared to. I just wanted him lining up at safety for my Washington Redskins, because he was as good a talent as there is in the league.

He was shot Monday morning. He was near death all day. Apparently, it wasn’t an isolated incident, considering the fact that only last week, somebody broke into his Florida home and left a knife on a bed. Somebody had it out for him.

Things like this should give us pause. It should make us wonder about the person under the helmet. When Terrell Owens lit up the Redskins for four touchdowns two weekends ago, I cussed fate for letting Taylor injure his knee a week earlier against the Eagles. Surely, I thought, No. 21 wouldn’t have let that happen. And I’ve cussed him in the past for his involvement in dumb penalties and poor coverages.

But you just never know. You never know what’s going on in the head of the guy under the helmet. Taylor apparently had his life threatened before Monday night, before he grabbed a machete (yes, a machete) from underneath his bed to investigate a noise, before some intruder shot him in his leg, causing him to lose so much blood, he’s been on the verge of death for the last day.

By leaving a knife on his bed last week, I’m guessing (purely speculation) that somebody was leaving a cryptic message for the safety. And who’s to say this hadn’t been ongoing? And who am I to judge him based on his play on the field, if I never consider all of his other worries.

After spending the Thanksgiving holiday in Maryland with my family, my fiance and I drove back home to North Carolina on Sunday. We stopped in Richmond at 1 p.m. to watch the football games. I spent the rest of the drive cursing Jason Campbell’s name for throwing two fourth-quarter interceptions in a loss to Tampa Bay. I never considered – and why would I? – whether there was anything else going on with Campbell.

Clearly, now there is.

I don’t know Sean Taylor. I can’t speak as boldly as Michael Wilbon, who said in a live chat on washingtonpost.com today that he wasn’t surprised to hear Taylor was shot, and that he didn’t believe the Redskins organization’s public relations campaign portraying Taylor as a changed man after the birth of his daughter, Jackie, 18 months ago. I don’t know whether he’s always been intensely loyal to his family, including his police chief father, as has also been reported today.

I only knew him as No. 21.

But I’ve watched some of the interviews of the people who knew him, and he was much more than a number to somebody. At redskins.com, you can watch defensive coordinator Gregg Williams, one of the most expressionless men in football break down as he says he didn’t care whether Taylor ever played again.

“I just want him to be alright,” Williams said.

Taylor clearly meant something to somebody. That’s something we should always try to keep in mind when we’re watching our teams’ athletes … even if they do groove a fastball, even if they do throw an interception, even if they do clank a dunk.

We live in a media driven era. Make no mistake, we know more about athletes and celebrities than we have business knowing. For example, I am aware that Brittney Spears doesn’t like wearing panties and has to go to parental counseling. I know that O.J. wanted “Heat” for his memorabilia rescue mission and I know that that the odds that Marc Antony and J-Lo’s baby will be named Marco are 4-1.

That I know any of those facts is actually somewhat troubling, but even these things seem more newsworthy than this link I found on ESPN.com about the 6-0 Celtics chase for 70 wins. They are already starting 70-win talk? Seriously? Here is a list of the longest winning streaks in NBA history:

Rank	Team	Streak	Dates
1	Los Angeles Lakers	33	11/5/71- 1/7/72
2	Milwaukee	20	2/6/71-3/8/71
3	Los Angeles Lakers	19	2/4/99-3/13/00
T-4	Boston	18	2/24/82-3/26/82
T-4	Chicago	18	12/29/95-2/2/96
T-4	New York	18	10/24/69-11/28/69
T-7	Boston	17	11/28/59-12/30/59
T-7	San Antonio	17	2/29/96-3/31/96
T-9	Milwaukee	16	10/24/70-11/25/70
T-9	Los Angeles Lakers	16	12/11/99-1/12/00
T-9	Portland	16	3/20/91-4/19/91
T-9	Boston	16	12/19/64-1/22/65
T-9	Los Angeles Lakers	16	1/9/91-2/5/91

Out of 13 teams that have won more than 16 games in a row, or ten more than Celtics have currently played, a grand total of one of them has won 70 games. And ESPN thinks a team that is exactly three players deep and has played six games is enough of a threat to break 70 wins that they started a “tracker” feature? Give me a break.

Are we so starved for news that need to make up stories out of nothing? The impending BCS mess, continued Patriots hyperbole, and MLB free agency isn’t enough to fill the ESPN front page? I guess, as Chevrolet and John Mellencamp won’t let us forget, “This is our country” for better or for worse.

The Week 10 installment of Dan Wiederer’s Chicago Bears postgame review.

By Dan Wiederer

First down: Just so you know, this column is going to contain more sarcasm than a couple hours with House.

Wow. Just wow.

How do you put a game like that into words?

Well, here’s what I got out of my Sunday afternoon, holed up at a place called Woody’s in Cary, N.C. A $26 bar bill. A raging headache. Zero fulfillment. And charred lungs from the 24 pounds of second-hand smoke I inhaled.

Yuck.
Tell the truth. In the third quarter, with both the Bears and Raiders looking like a bunch of Pop Warner misfits, tell me you didn’t expect the game to go into overtime tied at 3 and end on a safety when Rex Grossman was flagged for intentional grounding in the end zone. That would have been the most fitting way to declare a winner.

But alas, the Bears found enough strength to pull out another late win and that in itself should be worth something, giving us the chance to see “Chicago” lumped on the second page of the NFC contenders list under the heading “Still marginally alive for a wild card berth.”

And all it took was the old Grossman to Bernard Berrian bomb, the same connection that sparked last year’s playoff wins over the Seahawks and Saints. As bad as the game was, at least that moment restored a little bit of happiness.

And then I get into my car immediately following the final gun to find
“I believe in miracles” by Hot Chocolate on the radio.

Coincidence? I think not.

This is a team of destiny, people.

Second down: Here’s how you know your football team is a total joke.

Let’s just say you’re in a bar 856 miles from downtown Chicago, surrounded (unfortunately) by a flock of the douchiest Cowboys fans who ever lived and your silly ass team has been relegated to the corner TV because, well, its Bears vs. Raiders and it may just be one of the 10 worst NFL games of the season.

And so you’re sitting there through a dreadful and mind-numbing 3-3 disaster when Devin Hester fields a punt at his own 10 and starts doing the whole Devin Hester thing. He finds a seam, gets to the edge and there he goes up the left sideline.

So there you go bounding from your chair, screaming like a mad man and pumping your fist so wildly that all of those Dallas dorks are now looking at you wondering what just happened. So they poke their heads around to get a glimpse of the corner TV. And what are you cheering for? A 64-yard punt return that’s getting called back because of a Brendan Ayanbadejo hold.

So as you return to your seat feeling utterly embarrassed, it all sinks in. You just came out of your seat for what turned out to be a 5-yard penalty that gave the Bears first-and-10 at their own 5 in a dreadful and mind-numbing 3-3 disaster.

You laugh because it’s hard to imagine it getting any more upsetting than this. Except it does when literally 22 seconds later Tony Romo and Terrell Owens connect on a 25-yard touchdown pass that helps the Cowboys – a legitimate football team – beat the Giants 31-20.

Now Woody’s is brimming with Cowboy fan bluster and you’re watching Grossman chucking passes to his receivers as if he were trying to pitch around Albert Pujols. Low and away. High and outside.

So just to salvage an ounce of pride, you wait for a moment of quiet and shout with great passion: “Go Bears!”

Third down: Rex Grossman is the best clutch quarterback who’s ever lived.

I have to say, I wasn’t all too heartbroken when Brian Griese limped off the field Sunday and hopped right onto the John Deere cart. And I don’t say this just because I’m the world’s biggest Rex Grossman apologist and that sweet No. 8 jersey I bought 14 months ago just spiked 13 cents in value, all the way up to $1.17.

OK, that’s exactly why I was pleased. Because if Grossman is starting in two weeks when I go see the Bears live at Soldier Field, I can actually join my dad and brother in wearing our jerseys.
Butkus, Payton, Grossman.

Three Chicago legends.

Does Grossman deserve to start? Probably not. It should be noted that he couldn’t even take his first snap from Olin Kreutz without doing that whole “Oh, crap I just dropped the ball!” tumble. And take away that picture-perfect, game-winning bomb to Berrian and you’re looking at a typically uninspiring Grossman 6-for-13 for 83 yards performance.

But who knows? Maybe now that the Super Bowl hopes are obliterated and now that Rexy’s already lost his job once, maybe he’ll come back a little more relaxed, a little more confident. A little less panic stricken and unravled.

A little more Russell Crowe in “American Gangtser.” A little less Heather Donahue in “The Blair Witch Project.”

I wouldn’t count on it. But if you’re one of the 36 folks in the greater Chicago area who owns a Grossman jersey, I know you smell what I’m cookin’.

Fourth down: And just like that, the Bears are almost .500.

How many teams have the pluck to overcome a three-point deficit in the final 5 minutes? In the Black Hole, no less. Against a Raiders team that’s won 13 games over the last three-and-a-half seasons.

Truly incredible.

Then again, how many teams have the comeback components of Grossman and Cedric Benson to rally them?

I know the defense looked solid Sunday, allowing just six points and coming up with four sacks, three by Adewale Ogunleye, whose forced fumble also set up Benson’s clinching TD. Rookie Trumaine McBride also seemed to be all over the place on defense and special teams, even though my buddy Mike insisted on calling him Ken Mangum all afternoon because no one has worn that No. 26 jersey with more pride since John Mangum in the late 1990s. Only Mike keeps thinking his name was really Ken Mangum and because he’s made the mistake for four straight weeks, we’re just going with Ken now.

But before we get too excited about a defensive rebirth and the mere 80 passing yards the Bears allowed on Sunday, consider this: it was the freakin’ Raiders. And if you need more proof at just how void of talent the freakin’ Raiders are, here’s some perspective.

You can measure an offense’s potential by where its skill players were taken in a fantasy football draft. The Patriots and Colts for example have five or six fantasy weapons apiece on offense. The Raiders?
Sunday’s starting quarterback Josh McCown went undrafted in our fantasy league, was picked up in Week 2 and promptly dumped in Week 3. Running back Justin Fargas: also undrafted, became a Week 6 pickup, Week 8 drop and Week 9 pickup.

Sunday’s two leading wide receivers: Zach Miller and Jerry Porter? That sounds more like the kids who sat next to you in sophomore year chemistry lab.

So yeah, the Bears once again have a chance to get back to .500 next week with a trip to Seattle. And if we’ve learned anything from this season, we should know that they’re bound to be horrible and lose by 15 or 20 points.

But who really cares?

We pulled out a big win in Oakland that left everyone at Woody’s speechless. That’s really all that matters.

There are big games, and there are statement games. Ron Zook and his team made a statement Saturday night in Columbus. They screamed definitively, for the whole world to hear, “Fear the Illini”.

After a blistering start to the season Illinois had been forgotten. Sure they upset then #5 Wisconsin, but everybody thought the Badgers were overrated anyway. Mistake prone losses to Iowa and Michigan had allowed Illinois’ story to drift from hip to irrelevant.

Well, needless to say, the Illini are back in the national consciousness after a 28-21 victory over the undefeated and #1 ranked Ohio State Buckeyes. Perhaps more important than the win itself, was the poise the Illini showed after they established a lead early in the second half. By avoiding the mistakes that derailed their Big Ten title hopes they took a huge step forward.

In their two losses, at Iowa and to Michigan, the Illini were whistled for a combined 14 penalties, including an illegal formation that erased what would have been the winning touchdown against the Hawkeyes. The Ohio State game proved to be a stark contrast as they limited themselves to just one penalty.

Zook also managed Saturday’s game much better than either of the Illini’s losses. His reputation as a poor in-game coach looked well deserved when he accepted a holding penalty on third down during the Iowa game that resulted in a touchdown on the next play. He redeemed himself Saturday by making the right call on a game changing fourth and inches conversion. In fact, while Zook is known for his in-game snafus, it was Jim Tressel who erred by taking a timeout that allowed the Illni to reconsider their decision to punt the ball away.

Perhaps the most encouraging sight of all was the confidence filled performance of Illini Quarterback Juice Williams. The Juice cut loose four touchdown passes, two of which were deep balls that beat an Ohio State secondary matched up in single coverage for most of the game. Even more impressive was the 16-play 42 yard drive, which included repeated third down QB keepers, that Williams engineered to kill the final 8:09. Not to mention his Jimmy Chitwood (“I’ll make it”) impression with Ron Zook on the key fourth and inches that began that march.

Another very encouraging sight was the defense’s performance against the Buckeyes’ high octane offense. The Illini forced three key turnovers including an end zone interception that swung the momentum midway through the third quarter. The defense showed its depth as freshman Marcus Thomas, playing in relief of the injured Vontae Davis, contributed two huge plays by tipping the end zone interception and grabbing another himself. Their bread and butter, Linebacker J Leman, lived up to expectations by controlling the field sideline to sideline and matching his more heralded counterpart James Laurinaitis with 12 tackles to spearhead a solid team effort.

This big win lets the Illini look forward to a New Year that, while not quite rosey, is certainly exciting. Although, as they learned against Iowa, the Illini better show up ready to play when the Northwestern arrives in Champaign next week. Northwestern clinched bowl eligibility this week and will be angling to distinguish itself from the cluster of Big Ten team’s with six wins. If the Illini take care of business against the Wildcats, a trip to a New Year’s Day game should be all but guaranteed. Make no mistake, Illinois has arrived.

The Week 7 installment of Dan Wiederer’s Chicago Bears postgame review.

By Dan Wiederer

Note: This kind of party is becoming like the work party you have no interest in attending, but go to anyway just so you don’t miss anything memorable. And then 45 minutes into the party, you’re staring blankly out the windows, poking your eyes out with the cocktail stirrers and sneaking shots of Wild Turkey in the corner just to numb the pain.

First down: In Brian Griese’s defense, it was the vaunted Lions defense he was facing.

Few teams, if any, are going to have much success this season throwing the ball against a ferocious defense that has Stanley Wilson and Fernando Bryant starting in its secondary. The Lions, with seven interceptions in their two games against the Bears, might just have one of the most feared defensive units of all-time.

Oh, wait… This is the same Detroit defense that gave up 473 yards and 42 points in the first half of a loss in Philadelphia? This is the same Detroit defense that allowed Jason Campbell to complete 23 of 29 passes and allowed 34 points to the Redskins?

I take it back then. Maybe Sunday’s performance was more a product of the Bears’ ineptitude than anything else.

Holy Moses was that painful to watch!

Four Griese interceptions. One measly takeaway. Fox continually showing a football floating in Lake Michigan just to remind us that Devin Hester is rarely going to touch a kickoff or punt from now until 2017.

I’d tell you there’s still hope. But there’s not. For one thing, since 2000, only one NFL team has started a season 3-5 and rebounded to make the playoffs. Forty-two others have tried and failed.

So yeah, after Sunday’s loss the Bears’ season is in a coma. We can sit here and watch for the next eight weeks and hope that a pulse returns. But it’s really just a waste of time.

The good news: this Sunday is the Bears’ bye week. Do yourself a favor and get out of the house and do something more enjoyable than watching football. Perhaps you can go down to the park and pretend you’re Cedric Benson. Have your girlfriend or roommate or some random homeless dude hand you a football, take two tentative steps as if you’re trying to cross Michigan Avenue and then just fall over.

Second down: In Brian Griese’s defense, the weaponry around him is about as potent as Bob Dole sans Viagara.

I’m not about to let Griese off the hook for his four interceptions, three of them in the end zone. But let’s get something straight here. It’s the Bears’ entire offense that blows right now.

Benson is so bad he can’t even catch a pitch anymore. The offensive line is old and decrepit. And the receiving corps has Vaseline over its hands.

Bernard Berrian continued his season-long drop fest on Sunday letting passes hit him in the hands and then the numbers and still failing to grab control. Muhsin Muhammad (two catches, 23 yards) continued to run routes as if he was trying to tug a 747 behind him. Even the usually reliable Desmond Clark had an error-filled afternoon.

Yep, we’re halfway through what was supposed to be a championship season and the Bears’ confidence is obliterated. They’re 1-3 in the division, and worse, just 1-3 at Soldier Field.

As for that 3-5 record? Here are the other five NFL teams with three wins at this point: New Orleans, Philadelphia, Houston, Denver and Buffalo.

You do the math.

Third down: Brian Urlacher has an arthritic back.

And apparently it has the same side effects as the menstrual cycle.

Not only has the Pro Bowl linebacker been moving around the field like he’s Wilford Brimsley, but he’s been apprehensive about revealing the extent of his ailment and in turn it’s caused him to be testy and irritable with the media.

I respect Urlacher’s desire to not let a backache serve as his excuse for why he’s suddenly turned into a poor man’s Barry Minter. But it’s obvious that he’s a shell of his former self. And it’s also apparent that the Bears defense (now ranked 26th against the run and 24th against the pass) is deteriorating faster than Mark Prior’s rotator cuff.

Last year, it seemed like every time the Bears needed a tide-turning takeaway they got one. Remember that Arizona game where they overcame a 20-0 second-half deficit without scoring an offensive touchdown? Remember the last time they broke out those neon orange jerseys and had four takeaways and 41 points in the first half of a pre-Halloween slaughter of the 49ers?

Well, those days are long gone. This season the Bears have scored a total of 14 points off turnovers. That’s not a good recipe for success when your offense has less firepower than a cracked water pistol in the discount bin at Toys “R” Us.

Fourth down: The Patriots can go #$%^ themselves

I know this has absolutely nothing to do with the Bears. I just need to get it off my chest. Bill Belichick may be the most arrogant, smug, unsportsmanlike prick in the history of sports.

Picture this: New England’s up 38-0 with less than 10 minutes to play Sunday in Foxboro. The game’s out of reach. The Redskins are demoralized and tired. And still, the Patriots are attacking – ya know, because they need to make sure they’re offense is polished. Then when they’re finally stopped short on third-and-7, Belichick decides to go for it. Just to stick it up the Redskins’ behind.

So Tom Brady picks up the first down on a quarterback sneak and two plays later Wes Walker scores on a bullet pass from The Golden Boy. It was the ultimate “#$%^ you” touchdown and yet it’s hard to know what the Redskins did to deserve this.

On the Washington sideline, Joe Gibbs stared blankly across the field. Defensive coordinator Greg Phillips shook his head in disbelief as if to say, “Now why would you do that?”

This was the classic case of a conceited and insecure coach running up the score because he can. It’s what Belichick loves to do.

This is like the guy at your office with the six-figure salary and the smokin’ hot wife who can’t just be content with his hefty paychecks and sexy spouse. He has to rub it in your face. So every time you go to lunch, he’s pulling out C-notes, adjusting his Rolex and talking about the sensational foreplay he had that morning. Just so everyone knows he’s got a six-figure salary and a smokin’ hot wife.

Not only is it unnecessary. It’s annoying.

And yet everywhere I turn, all the analysts are defending New England.

This isn’t Pop Warner, they say. The Redskins don’t need their feeling spared. They’re grown men.

Yep that’s true.

If the Redskins were offended, they continue, then maybe they shouldn’t have given up 52 points. Also true.

But that’s neither here nor there when it comes to New England’s poor sportsmanship. There’s no other way to describe it. It’s poor sportsmanship.

What’s become perfectly clear is that Belichick wants everyone to know how great of a team he has and how he’s going to stick it in your face every chance he gets.

Is it illegal? No. Does it make you hope that Belichick gets undercut by a runaway wide receiver, blows out an ACL and gets a concussion when his head hits the metal drainage grate? Absolutely.

Just remember these four words all week: Let’s go Peyton Manning.

I like this kind of (surprise) party: Bears 19, Eagles 16

The Week 7 installment of Dan Wiederer’s Chicago Bears postgame review.

By Dan Wiederer

First down: Grie-se! Grie-se! Brian, can you hear me?

Confession to make: duty called Sunday afternoon so I spent the first half of my Sunday at The Grandover Resort in Greensboro, N.C., talking college basketball with Roy Williams, Coach K and a bunch of other teenage players that few of you have ever heard of. (Harvey Hale, anyone?)

When my work was finished, I did what any devoted follower would have. I disobeyed every speed limit sign on I-40 and blurred east to get to a TV. I didn’t arrive at my destination until midway through the third quarter but from the sound of things I didn’t miss much.

Just some boring, turnover-free, touchdown-less football. Oh, and five field goals by David Akers and Robbie Gould.

So really, I was around for the only part of the game that mattered. The final 112 seconds.

Magical.

As critical as I’ve been of Brian Griese over the last two years, you have to hand it to him. That 97-yard touchdown drive to win Sunday’s game was nothing short of masterful.

Tell me the truth. With the Bears down four, without a touchdown all day and backed up to their own 3 yard line with less than 2 minutes to play and no timeouts left, did you really believe they were going to win? Not a chance.

The season was basically over. Falling to 2-5 would have been devastating. And yet with a simple pass to Desmond Clark on the right sideline, the resuscitation of the season began. Give Clark some props for absolutely mauling Eagles cornerback Lito Sheppard and stepping out of bounds on the play. It was the kind of “Get the f*@% off me” aggression that sets a tone for an entire drive.

Two plays later: a dump off to Adrian Peterson for nine yards. Then a strike to Devin Hester for nine more. One bite at a time.
With 9 seconds to play the 97-yard surgery ended with a beautiful lob touchdown pass from Griese to Muhsin Muhammad in the back of the end zone.

What may have been more impressive than Griese’s poise on the drive – he completed seven of his nine pass attempts with no communication in his helmet headset – was the swiftness with which the Bears offense sprinted to the line of scrimmage and was able to kill the clock twice without much time running off. You just don’t see that done often enough in the NFL.

Equally important was the confidence Griese showed in Hester, who came up with a pair of key receptions for 30 yards on the drive. This could make a huge difference to the offensive attack.

Any opponent who watched Hester burn past the Vikings secondary for a late-touchdown in Week 6 has to be petrified when No. 23 steps to the line of scrimmage – assuming he knows where to line up.

Here’s what seems to be happening. The cornerback gets all wide-eyed and dry-mouthed and panicky, like Rex Grossman on third-and-long. Then the safety starts getting all swivel-headed with visions of Hester sprinting alone toward the end zone. And suddenly the coverage is just a little looser, allowing guys like Clark and Greg Olsen and Muhammad and Bernard Berrian to find holes in the defense and make field-stretching plays.

So yeah, perhaps it’s time to abandon that whole predictable slip-screen play with Hester and allow him to do what he does best: freak people out in open space.

It’s also time to give Griese a round of applause. Assuming he can hear it through the malfunctioning headset.

Second down: Who was covering Muhammad on that last play – Heather Mills?

As nice as the TD ball that Griese lofted was and as clutch as Muhammad’s catch was, Eagles safety Sean Considine deserves a good old-fashioned Philly lashing today for that feeble defense.

Watch the play again. Muhammad didn’t make a single move. No jab step. Not even a head fake. He simply jogged to the back of the end zone and stopped in time to catch the ball and win the game. And somehow Considine looked like a 6-year-old trying to cover his dad in the backyard. He was three steps behind and never turned his head around. It was a horrible and unforgivable play given the circumstances.

Before I move on, there’s something else I just need to get off my chest. I was a little uncomfortable with Griese’s celebration, that whole wedding night leap-and-straddle of Ruben Brown. It just felt a little weird.

And then later, in the night, just I was ready to move on when Red Sox closer Jonathan Papelbon one-upped Griese on the Larry Craig-o-meter. After retiring Cleveland’s Casey Blake to clinch the American League pennant, Papelbon rifled his glove down, crouched into an appropriately wide stance, extended his hands and gave Jason Varitek the whole “Come here big boy” wave.

Varitek obliged with a Griese hug of the strapping pitcher. I wish I could erase the imagery.

Third down: A fumble is only a fumble if Ed Hochuli thinks it’s a fumble.

And if you don’t like it, then you can get a sneak preview of the angry ref’s gun show in the tunnel beneath Lincoln Financial Field.

The play in question: first-and-10 near midfield with 13:23 to play and the score tied 9-9.

What happened: Olin Kreutz snapped the ball along the ground and sideways, past Griese’s left ankle and bounding through the Bears backfield. Considine made a break and scooped the ball, racing toward the end zone. It’s the kind of play that should have effectively turned the momentum in Philly’s favor for good.

The ruling: because Griese was under center and the ball never even came close to his hands, it was somehow a false start.

WHAT?!?!?

This is the dumbest rule ever, surpassing the tuck rule, which states that a quarterback can throw an incomplete pass even if he’s not throwing the ball but instead fumbling with a forward moving arm.

Now this rule says that if you snap the ball so poorly that it looks like it’s from a Peanuts comic strip, then you get to try the play over.

Makes perfect sense. Let’s just go with it.

Fourth down: Playoffs?!?!? Playoffs?!?!?

Yes, that’s right. Once again these bipolar Bears have us thinking playoffs. It’s just like it was two weeks ago after that impressive come-from-behind win in Green Bay. (And then they laid a defensive stinker against the dismal Vikings.)

So what should we expect next week? Who the hell knows anymore? From the looks of things the Bears should be able to put a mini-run together. They host the Lions next weekend at Soldier Field, terrific news considering that Detroit has won in Chicago only once since 2000. Then following a bye week, a trip to Oakland (4-18 over the last two years) is on tap.

A year ago, we could have bet the house on two wins and a record over .500. This year? No one knows. But at the very least, Sunday’s mini-miracle keeps the season relevant.

For now.

It’s perfectly fine and logical to talk about the playoffs right now. But just to provide a reality check, the Super Bowl is still a pipe dream. Need proof? Just watch one quarter of a Patriots game at some point this season. Yeah… They’re in a little different class than the Bears are right now. It’s like comparing Megan Fox to Shelly Smith.

Keep that in perspective and keep your interest in the Bears at a slow boil.

The Week 6 installment of Dan Wiederer’s Chicago Bears postgame review.

By Dan Wiederer

Just to clarify: this kind of party is like most weekends from my early 20s. Wild and fun to watch. But something you’re probably better off forgetting the next day.

First down: The weekly gushing tribute to Devin Hester.

As the Bears game began Sunday, with Vikings kicker Ryan Longwell booting a high-arcing kickoff in the direction of Devin Hester, my buddy Mike rose from his bar stool and shouted with pure sincerity, “Bad idea! Big mistake!”

This is what it has come to.

Hester is so freaking ridiculous that opponents can’t even execute a traditional kickoff to start the game without drawing scathing criticism.

Sure, Hester only returned that kick 18 yards. But it wasn’t 30 minutes later that he fielded a punt at the 11 yard line, did his thumb-on-nose “You’ll never catch me” walk to the right, then NASA-launched through the Vikings’ punt coverage for an 89-yard touchdown.

It was his 10th touchdown return in 25 NFL games.

Now he’s being labeled, almost unanimously, as the best kick returner in the history of the NFL. And there is no one anywhere who can even think of a counter-argument.

It’s 100 percent mind-boggling and it’s leading to crazy things like these:
• After the game, a 30-year-old emergency room doctor in my circle of friends was calling dibs on the name Devin for his first son. His e-mail didn’t have an ounce of sarcasm to it.
• My 4-year-old niece was talking with my dad via Web cam Sunday morning. She was wearing her favorite Bears shirt, sans number. My dad wondered why no number. She responded by declaring that if she were to get a real jersey, “it would definitely be Devin Hester.” Four years old, less football acumen than Andrea Kremer and she already understands that Hester is the most electrifying player in pro football.
• This debate was had with great earnestness at the bar Sunday afternoon. The premise: A race to the goal line, Hester starts at the opposite goal line, where would you have to start to beat him?
Think about that. I initially believed I would need a 40-yard head start. Then, after watching Hester burn down the right sideline on that 81-yard touchdown reception in the final 2 minutes, I seriously think I might need to start at the other 30. And even that might produce a photo finish.

Insane. The guy is now making hyperbole obsolete.

Second down: I can’t wait for the rematch Dec. 17.
Say what you want about the Bears’ overall performance Sunday. Three adjectives come to mind: sloppy, flat, uninspired. But there is no question that the game itself was wildly entertaining.

Why? Because Hester wasn’t the only electric playmaker at Soldier Field. Vikings running back Adrian Peterson was everywhere. He had three touchdowns runs and his 35-yarder was the shortest. By far.

Wowsers.

Dude’s on pace for more than 2,500 total yards.

Yeah, Peterson is bananas. B-a-n-a-n-a-s.

And if Minnesota coach Brad Childress ever gets a clue, the speedy tailback may be a legitimate MVP candidate.

As of this minute, he leads the NFL in rushing yards (121.4 per game) and the next closest competitor, reigning MVP LaDainian Tomlinson, is more than 33 yards per game behind.

Like Hester, Peterson is a threat to score every time he touches the ball. And yet somehow, Childress has been reluctant for five games to make AP his featured back. In Minnesota’s last game, Peterson had 108 yards at halftime and got two carries in the second half.

At halftime on Sunday, Peterson had eight carries while Chester Taylor had 11. Peterson was averaging 13.1 yards per run, Taylor 3.6. And yet Childress kept sending Taylor back into the huddle.

WHAT?!?!?

This is like Lovie Smith only sending Hester back to field kicks half the time and letting Adam Arhchuleta try his hand six times a game.

If I was the Vikings’ owner, I would have been up Childress’ ass in the locker room at halftime, threatening to fire him if Peterson didn’t get 20 carries.

Eventually, of course, Peterson did. And he finished with a per carry average of 11.2 yards and touchdown runs of 67, 73 and 35 yards.

Third down: The Bears aren’t who we thought they were.

Pop quiz: Name the big plays Brian Urlacher made Sunday.

Time’s up. And if your answer was “Sorry, there were none,” you just won yourself the rights to Cubs World Series tickets.

The official NFL stats had Urlacher down for five tackles, his worst outing of the season. My dad’s convinced it was a byproduct of Lovie Smith and defensive coordinator Bob Babich formulating a game-plan that was too conservative.

He thinks Urlacher and Lance Briggs weren’t shooting gaps and rifling into the backfield with the same aggressiveness they did in Week 1 against Tomlinson and the Chargers.

That was the Bears defense at its best. Sunday was the Bears defense at its worst.

And whether it seems logical or not, this is all about Mike Brown. I don’t know what it is, but the veteran safety just added a whole different dimension to the run defense.

He was sort of like a great shot-blocker in basketball. When you know there’s a second line of defense to erase mistakes, you can be more aggressive and attack up front and be confident that the star behind you has your back.

Without Brown, the Bears are in trouble.

Did you see Archuleta, Danieal Manning and Brandon McGowan trying to tackle Peterson in the open field? They looked like a bunch of fifth-graders trying to catch a squirrel in the park.

Consider this: Peterson averaged 11.2 yards per carry without even a moderate threat of a Minnesota passing game. The Vikings scored 34 points and won with Tavaris Jackson completing just nine passes for 136 yards.

On one third-down play, Tony Richardson was so wide open that Jackson could have thrown a pop up toward the sideline and no defender would have gotten there in time. Instead, he sailed a pass about 17 yards over Richardson’s head.

From that play on, the Bears could have put eight men in the box, called a flurry of run blitzes and tried to turn Peterson into pudding. But without Brown in the second level – or maybe more importantly with the shoddy tackling Archuleta, Manning and McGowan back there – they couldn’t take risks and they couldn’t bring anyone down in the open field with more whiffs than a Sammy Sosa April.

Yep. The run defense is atrocious. Over the last four games, it’s allowing an average of 164.5 yards per contest, right on par with the winless Dolphins.

As for Urlacher, I used the old DVR Monday morning to track his whereabouts on Peterson’s touchdown runs.

On the first, he was blown off the ball by left tackle Chase Johnson then steamrolled by Jim Kleinsasser. There was never a gap for him to hit. He looked like a Looney Tunes character, tied into a pretzel with his own limbs.

On the second TD run, Steve Hutchinson plowed Urlacher 7 yards backward, took him toward the sideline and then Peterson did what Cedric Benson is incapable of: he saw the designed hole close in front on him and cut back into open space. From there, it was all over.

On the final TD, Anthony Herrera cut Urlacher low right off the snap and as Peterson rushed down the sidelines, Manning refused to push him out of bounds instead pansy-slapping at him like A-Rod whacking at Bronson Arroyo in the 2004 ALCS.

Ladies and gentlemen, your Chicago Bears defense.

Fourth down: Super Bears. Super Bad.

Sometimes the window for winning a Super Bowl slams shut without warning. That appears to be the case now with the Bears, who squandered about 17 opportunities in XLI in January and are now nothing more than a middling also-ran in the parity-driven NFL.

I know you don’t want to hear it, but the Bears are done. Not only are they not a Super Bowl contender any longer. They’re a longshot to even make the playoffs. Sorry, but if you can’t stop the run (26th in the NFL) and have no running game yourself (27th), there’s not much that’s going to save you.

So don’t kid yourself into thinking the Bears defense will again emerge as dominant. On Sunday, against a hideous quarterback, they had one sack (by Alex Brown) and zero takeaways.

On offense, Muhsin Muhammad continued to run routes as if he were Rue McLanahan. And the Bears lost at home to the team that was widely considered the doormat of the NFC North.

Six weeks into the season, they already have as many division losses as they had in the previous two seasons combined. And I really don’t see how they’re going to muster up enough fortitude to slow down Donovan McNabb and Brian Westbrook in Philly next weekend.

Simply put: it was fun while it lasted. But those Super Bowl dreams are cruel hallucinations. At least Hester figures to touch the ball about 60-70 more times this season, right?