Once and a while I'll dream about football. About 20% of the time it's my friends and I at a game, or random statistics, but maybe 80% of the time I'm playing quarterback. No other position, ever - I dreamed that after Favre "retired" that I was the starter for Green Bay, I've dreamed that I've played for my alma mater; heck, I think I've even sat on the bench next to Tom Brady a couple of times.
Anyway, after last night's depressing Bears/Falcons contest, my dream consisted of one long montage of the Bears losing to every team in the league. At the same time as this was happening, I had regressed to being ten years old, and thus became incapable of understanding anything else. Bits of my life flickered before me. While the Bears were losing to the Ravens, an attractive member of the opposite sex tried to talk with me, but I couldn't understand - I was ten and the Bears were losing. When the Bears were losing to the Chargers (which pretty much ran as a reel of the microscopic Garrett Wolfe being pancaked by Shawne Merriman), some big-shot in my field was trying to offer me a really good job, but I couldn't understand any of it.
The dream ended with me, sitting in my fifth grade class, surrounded by other depressed ten-year-olds in Bears regalia, all sobbing over why the Bears had blown it so badly. I woke up at about 5:30 AM thinking "Hey, we can beat Cincinnati, right?" And I didn't know whether to start crying or laughing, honestly.
Of course, the moral of this whole story (which is a good one for everyone) is to not get too worked up over the outcome of any sporting event, or you risk looking like a little kid throwing a tantrum. But I use it as a study in psychology - Amazing what a sucker-punch loss can temporarily do to a fan's subconscious, eh?*
News to come after the Monday night skirmish.
*And with this, my unbroken record of being nervous days before Chicago plays Atlanta will continue, no doubt.
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