A season of Monday Night Football draws to a close (pleasebeTK’slastpleasebeTK’slast) with another night of 10,000 Favre mentions and Tony Kornheiser raving about the existence of team songs. “YOU MEAN TO TELL ME EVERY TEAM HAS A SONG, JAWS?! WHAT TRULY BIZARRE RITUALS THESE FANS HAVE!” Trailing 17-10 in the 4th, the Bears were able to tie the game after a dubious-looking 4th down conversion by Matt Forte inside the Packers’ 5. Forte then then scored on the next play. Mason Crosby had a potentially winning kick blocked in the waning moments, then the coin flip caromed off Brian Urlacher’s helmet. The Bears then marched down the field to put a night of punts and interceptions to a close and piss off many a teased Vikings fan.
I know it’s the Bears and the Packers and therefore it’s sepia-toned gritball voiced by John Facenda, but goddamn do all of their fans brag about nothing else but their tolerance of cold weather? We get it, you’ve acclimated yourselves admirably to harsh weather conditions. Just shut the fuck up about it already.
Seriously? You brought a wall thermometer to the fucking game? That must have been a funny stroll through security. “No, no, I only have it so I can point it at the camera like a douche. Oh, and if it drops below six degrees, I explode into cancerous spores, so I gotta keep an eye on that.”
Good team, bad team, whatever. We don’t give a shit about football. We’re only a 60,000-plus member chapter of the Polar Bears, boisterously shaming the rest of the nation for not being dumbfucks out in the cold like us.
If it isn’t Tommy from Quinzee’s Windy City cousin, Eddie from [Chicago-area locality where douches breed, fill me in, I don’t know]
More shirtless cockwallets! More! This time carrying Sprite bottles no doubt filled with laced soda.
Wasn’t this guy punching chicks in Wicker Man?
Move over, John Wayne Gacy. Chicago’s got a new ultracreepy serial killer on the prowl. Holy hell, this fucker probably had an infant’s corpse concealed inside that bear costume.
See, that’s more like it. This guy’s no danger to anyone but himself. That and the person he probably keeled over onto in the 4th quarter, but only after exposing them to his basso profundo rendition of Bear Down, Chicago Bears.