Bears Blitz

Published by Max Kienzler on May 17, 2009
Article Source: Bleacher Report - Chicago Bears

In 2001, I was a sophomore in high school…wait, that isn’t the beginning. I should start earlier.

My name is Max and I was born on Feb. 28, 1986—a month, a mere 30 days, after the Chicago Bears won Super Bowl XX. My father is a Bears fan. My older brother is a Bears fan. As I grew, I based how much I liked a person on whether or not he was a Bears fan.

Throughout my grade school days, Sundays were pretty much a model of consistency: wake up, get dressed, and head into town for church. (If we were early, we would get to go to Mel-O-Cream donuts before.)

After church, we would go home and turn on the Bears game at noon. I would then argue with my parents about doing homework vs. watching the Bears, compromise, and then pretend to do homework in the kitchen while I covertly watched the game. (I think my old man still knew.)

And every year it seemed in the ’90s, the Bears were miserable. They went through a laundry list of quarterbacks.

I remember the first time I saw the “immortal” Rick Mirer in his only season with the Bears in ’97.

He came in during the fourth quarter of a game that was already out of reach and led a touchdown drive with some nice passes. And I remember sitting at my kitchen table thinking, “Hey, this guy actually looks alright. Maybe there is some hope.”

Of course, he was miserable from that point forward and I curse his name still today, but that was when my fan view went from interested to fanatic.

I watched the Bears before, but not with nearly as much passion. Before then, I did not know every player on the team. I didn’t preview next week matchups or review the previous week’s breakdowns.

But from that day forward, it became an obsession.

And then 2001 came. I still remember it like it was last season. Shane Matthews, the man who couldn’t throw a ball accurately past 10 yards. Jim Miller, a good QB but never healthy. Marty Booker and David Terrell (ugh), the A-Train’s rookie year and James Allen as his back up. 

The linebacker trio of Holdman, Urlacher, and Colvin. Azumah and Walt Harris. Tony Parrish. Ted Washington. Keith Traylor. Corkscrewer Paul Edinger. And my two favorite Bear players of all time: Mike Brown and James “Big Cat” Williams.

It was incredible. Every game was memorable. An unreal 13-3 record, seemingly out of nowhere. And no Bears fan will ever, ever forget weeks seven and eight.

After losing the opening game to the Ravens, the Bears rattled off four wins with a bye week smooshed in between. With all this momentum, they welcomed the San Francisco 49ers to town. Led by Jeff Garcia, Terrell Owens, and comeback player of the year Garrison Hearst, the 49ers were also 4-1.

And while the first three quarters were good, the fourth was magical, as the Bears scored 15 unanswered to tie the game (yes, I said 15 points). With 0:26 left, Shane Matthews hit David Terrell (ugh) for a four-yard touchdown pass and the A-Train converted the two-point conversion. That was Matthews’ third TD pass of the game and Terrell’s (ugh) second TD catch.

That led to overtime. The 49ers won the toss, received, and started out with the ball on the 20-yard-line. The first play from scrimmage, Garcia fades back and makes a pretty slant pass to Owens. Owens catches it, bobbles it, gets leveled by Urlacher, and basically leaves the ball at the perfect height for Mike Brown to snag it, almost in stride, and takes it 30-plus yards back for the winning touchdown.

The Mike Brown Miracle. I was screaming. It was like a religious moment except with more cursing. I had never been happier in my life…

Then the next week happened.

I arrived in the middle of the fourth quarter after playing in a soccer game and immediately I am angered by the fact the Bears are down 21-7 to the Cleveland Browns. I mean it is the Browns. The Browns!

Their quarterback was Tim Couch for crying out loud and we are losing by two freaking touchdowns. Are you kidding me? 

But as I sat there, pissed off and sweaty, the Bears rallied to score a touchdown with 0:28 left on a Shane Matthews to Marty Booker TD pass. The Bears then somehow recovered the ensuing onsides kick (Paul Edinger=money) and after a couple wasted plays, Matthews throws up a hail mary that somehow, someway James Allen comes down with in the end zone and we went to overtime.

In OT, the Bears won the toss, got the ball, and promptly went three-and-out. Again, I felt the rage, knowing that the Bears offense seemed completely inept, and I started believing we would lose this game even after making such an improbable comeback.

The Browns started out at their own eight yard line after a beautiful punt by Brad Maynard. On their third play of the drive, Couch passed left and Bryan Robinson got his hand on it, batting it up at the line of scrimmage. 

Now, as I watched this occur on my television, the ball goes so high that the camera doesn’t pick it up and none of the players see it either, with the exception of one. Mike Brown was starring at the heavens and timed it perfectly as he ran right underneath it and the ball dropped into his arms, allowing him to waltz into the end zone, again.

I was stunned. I jumped up and down, hugged my dad, and was amazed at one simple fact: Walter Payton really must have been God because there had to be some divine intervention happening.

What are the odds, honestly, that in back-to-back weeks, a team rallies in the fourth quarter and then wins when the same player intercepts another pass and takes it back for a touchdown? It had to have been a miracle.

The rest of the season was a blur leading up to the NFC Central title!

We were the No. 2 seed in the playoffs. After a first round bye, we welcomed the Eagles into Soldier Field, and well…they basically spanked us.

And we could see it coming, even though we were only down six points at half. The Eagles had dominated the entire game so far and the only bright spot was near the end of the second quarter when Ahmad Merritt took a reverse for a touchdown…

Yeah, Ahmad Merritt. That’s how bad it was. Jim Miller left with an injury (the man had no luck, I swear) and that was all she wrote. Final: Eagles 33 Bears 19.

While that ended the season, it also was the start of my new religion. And like many religions, it has since called for great sacrifices, terrible suffering, and more pain than you expected when you signed up.

Yet, it is still satisfying. It still has me believing and it has been fulfilling.

(When Hester took the opening kick back against the Colts, I thought that I could die happy.)

That 2001 season, one with a plethora of memorable moments: Mike Brown and his pick six’s, Big Cat and his massive paws blocking field goals, A-Train’s 188 yard outburst against the Bengals, David Terrell (ugh) before I really got to hating him, Urlacher’s just incredible season.

Marty and his dinner plate sized hands. Marcus Robinson’s knee getting bent in a way that no leg should ever bend. And Ahmad Merritt’s reverse touchdown run in the playoffs. All of those, they changed my complexion as a Bears fan.

And while I may not always agree with the direction the Bears go, after the ’01 season, I realized that nothing they do could ever diminish my love for them.

In the name of the Halas, the Ditka, and the Walter Payton, amen.