Bears' lack of killer instinct cost them in epic fashion

For 30 glorious minutes during Sunday night's Bears-Packers game, it was 1985 again.

First, the Bears forced a Green Bay punt on their opening drive. Then, there was a brilliant first quarter counter-drive that saw the Bears march down the field using seemingly everything in new head coach Matt Nagy's playbook, including a T-Wing formation with two running backs, a fullback, and a quarterback in the backfield, multiple five receiver sets, and more motion than a rocking sailboat on stormy seas.

That Bears' opening, 10-play, 86-yard march chewed up over six minutes of clock the way Mike Ditka used to chomp on bubble gum while stalking the sidelines, and before we knew it, it was 7-0 Bears.

The Bears then forced the Packers into a three-and-out punt situation, and responded with another nine-play, 60-yard gem that ended in a field goal, and a 10-0 Chicago lead early in the second quarter.

Out came the boo-birds at Lambeau Field, in what was an almost unfathomable start to a game for the visitors that only got better.

Enter recently-signed superhero/franchise savior-in-the-making Khalil Mack, who sacked Packers backup quarterback Deshone Kizer, forced a fumble, and recovered it, stalling a lengthy Packers drive that made Aaron Rodgers having to leave the game moments earlier with a leg injury almost a side note.

But Mack wasn't done. With 1:09 left in the first half, he picked off a Kizer pass in Green Bay territory, and with his left arm holding the ball out cockily, took it up the left sideline to the house for a score to put the Bears up 17-0 at halftime.

Things were going so well, in fact, even first-round draft pick Roquan Smith had a sack on his first NFL snap ever. Making matters worse for the home team, Chicago got the ball to start the third quarter, trotted down the field yet again, and added three more points.

Was any of this even real?

At the risk of sounding cliche, if Hollywood had been handed a script of what took place up to that point, they would have laughed, then threw it back in our collective faces.

Even after Rodgers returned from the locker room and decided to play hurt to start the second half, engineering a 12-play, 46-yard drive that ended in a field goal with 5:37 remaining in the third quarter, all of Chicago giggled, knowing the Bears still were ahead by 17, which is a three-score advantage they had no chance of blowing.

Except they did.

In such grandiose, spectacular fashion, it still almost defies logic half a day later.

All Rodgers, who just signed the most lucrative deal any QB has ever seen in league history, did, was proceed to score three fourth-quarter touchdowns, capped by a ridiculous defensive breakdown and 75-yard score by Randall Cobb with just over two minutes to go.

At that very moment, Cheesehead backers could hear the sound of Bears fans nationwide simultaneously emptying the contents of their stomachs everywhere.

For whatever reason, as good as Rodgers was --- and boy, was he ever --- Nagy put the training wheels back on his offense the last quarter and a half, turtled up, and tried to babysit his big lead. That's how you lose games. Ask the 1996 Chicago Bulls if they would have ever sat on a lead.

No, they went for the knockout punch every time, like they were the heavyweight champs.

Speaking of Jordan-related things, there were too many Jordan Howard runs up the middle when they needed Nagy to be the creative genuis he touted himself to be all preseason, most.

That was Followed by more Howard runs and draw plays up the middle, short screen passes to Taylor Gabriel, one pass to rookie Anthony Miller, which actually produced a first down, and several incomplete passes in the vicinity of tight end Trey Burton and Allen Robinson.

And when the Bears faced a huge 3rd and 1 deep in Green Bay territory with a chance to ice the game, Nagy inexplicably tried to get cute and go for the home run in the end zone with Tarik Cohen on a wheel route that failed miserably, rather than telling his linemen to man up, block someone, and get a single, lousy yard.

The same Tarik Cohen who is perhaps Nagy's biggest game-breaker and huge-play threat, yet for reasons we may never know, he was only on the field for two or three plays the entire fourth quarter.

It wasn't Nagy's first epic collapse. In fact, during last year's AFC playoffs against the Titans, he choked on a virtually identical double-digit lead in a stunning loss to Tennessee as offensive coordinator of the Chiefs.

But Nagy wasn't alone in the blame. The same Bears' defense that looked unstoppable early couldn't generate a pass rush on a hobbled Rodgers, and making matters worse, defensive coordinator Vic Fangio suddenly forgot the word "blitz" existed in his playbook.

There was also what would have been a game-ending, surefire pick-six drooped by top cornerback Kyle Fuller. There was Mitch Trubisky, who looked strong going 11 for 14 in the first half, looking like a deer caught in headlights down the stretch when his team needed him most.

Even after all that, when all Chicago needed was a field goal to win, and had the ball near midfield following a boneheaded personal foul by Packers linebacker Clay Matthews, the Bears still rolled over and played dead anyway.

It was the biggest fourth quarter comeback in Packers history. It also felt like the most epic collapse in Bears history, given the fact Chicago looked like the old Monsters of the Midway for more than half the game, and had a chance to send message so big on opening night with a victory, it even had LeBron James fired up and tweeting about them several times.

Forget the metaphors. Forget moral victories. Forget the fact this Bears team might actually be pretty darn good.

Someone let the air out of the Bears' balloon the same way Tom Brady allegedly let the air out of .... ahh, nevermind. I said no metaphors.

After all, metaphors don't win games. Playing smart, aggressive football for four quarters does. That's the only lesson here. Literally.

Somewhere, the ghost of the 1985 Bears was rolling over in its grave, wondering when we can finally, one day, move on from their three-decade-plus shadow.