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.

Mack signing a blockbuster game-changer for the Bears

When the city of Chicago woke up Saturday morning and pulled back its curtains and shades, a gloomy sky greeted it as rain steadily fell throughout the area for hours.

But you could have fooled Chicago Bears fans.

Their skies were beaming with sunshine during that time, as news their beloved team had just traded for superstar Oakland Raiders linebacker Khalil Mack swept through the sports world the same way a shockwave ripples through the ground during a powerful earthquake.

The bold move by Bears General Manager Ryan Pace, which is reported to include his team sending two future first-round draft picks to Oakland, was enough to make us all rub our sleepy eyes as we awoke to make sure we were, in fact, reading things right.

Stuff like this just doesn't happen in our city. That's where decades of post-1985 Bears glory will take you ... to a culture full of sarcasm, cynicism and perennial doubt.

I'm here to say, it's time to come off the ledge, Bears fans. You have yourself a football team again. One that is going to become must-watch TV this fall and winter.

I'm not saying you should break out your "Super Bowl Shuffle" VHS tapes and start dancing. But what I am saying is, the Bears will be better than they were a year ago, and not only that, I think they are talented enough, barring injuries, to push for a playoff spot.

Many of you sit there laughing as you read that last sentence. Don't. Instead, let the evidence speak for itself.

First, there's Mack, who is a freak of nature that has drawn comparisons to Lawrence Taylor by some top NFL analysts. In four seasons, Mack has tallied 40.5 sacks, 231 solo tackles, four forced fumbles, nine fumble recoveries, and in what is the most telling stat of all, has started all 16 games every season.

Add that to a defensive core that includes first-round pick Roquan Smith, Akiem Hicks, Leonard Floyd, Adrian Amos, Kyle Fuller, Eddie Jackson and Danny Trevathan, and suddenly, you have a group that may actually be worthy of the nickname "Monsters of the Midway."

In a league where offense is king, and fortunes change in the blink of an eye, having a top-tier defense still remains paramount. A year ago, only three NFC teams allowed fewer points than Chicago, and their names were Minnesota, which won the NFC North, Altanta, who went 10-6, and Philadelphia, which won some shiny Lombardi Trophy thing.

Not only do the Bears return most of their core defensive players from a season ago, they have their defensive coordinator, Vic Fangio back, meaning most of the guys will have a strong grasp of his schemes and concepts from the first snap against the Packers Week 1 at Lambeau Field.

Two of the three teams the Bears are chasing in the standings, Green Bay and Detroit, allowed 64 and 56 more points than they did in 2017, respectively.

Naysayers will point out that you need an offense to win. I will remind them the Bears have a running back in Jordan Howard who rushed for 1,122 yards a year ago, and another agile freak in Tarik Cohen, who can potentially break a play for a touchdown every time he touches the football.

Quarterback Mitchell Trubisky will certainly be better, too, thanks to the addition of receiver Allen Robinson, who, prior to missing all but one game in 2017, caught 20 TD passes in 2015 and 2016. Throw in rookie Anthony Miller, who looks like the real deal, at the slot receiver position, and suddenly, Nagy has options this team never imagined a season ago when it came to playcalling.

And I'm not the only one who's suddenly bullish on this squad's chances. When the news broke that the Bears signed Mack, Las Vegas oddsmakers dropped Chicago's odds to win the Super Bowl from 100-1 to 40-1 instantly.

That's not just a leap, that's a canyon-sized jump.

Perhaps the Bears will flail and crash and burn in spectacular fashion again in 2018, as we have been accustomed to.

But if there's one thing I've learned in my years covering football and other sports, it's this.

Most of the time, magical things happen when fans least expect them to. The Eagles and Rams are two examples of teams that went from also-rans to juggernauts a year ago seemingly overnight.

Suddenly, opening night against our hated rivals, the Green Bay Packers, just got a whole hell of a lot more interesting. And meaningful.

And it's been a long, long time since we were able to use the words "Bears" and "meaningful," in the same sentence around here.

Why Corey Crawford May Be The Best Blackhawks Goalie Ever

I'll be the first to admit I haven't given Chicago Blackhawks netminder Corey Crawford a fair shake.

Maybe it's because I grew up at the tail end of the Tony Esposito era, which eventually ushered in the era of another legendary and charismatic Hawks goalie named Ed Belfour.

Both Esposito, who won 423 games in his storied career, and Belfour, who tallied 484 victories, are Hall of Famers. As is former Blackhawk Glenn Hall, who racked up 407 career wins.

Esposito's #35 hangs in the rafters of the United Center. So does Hall's #1. Neither number will ever be worn again by a Hawks player. Belfour's #30 does not, however, but that's another soapbox for me to tackle some other day.

The point being, the bar is set pretty high in this city when it comes to honoring our beloved backstops. So I decided to take a much closer look at how Crawford, at age 33, compares to some of these legends.  

What I discovered during my journey shocked me.

For starters, there have been 81 goalies to ever wear the Indian Head sweater in this city, which I capitalize out of respect. Any current or former player who has ever put on a Hawks jersey will tell you, you do so with a tremendous amount of pride and responsibility.  

Let's start with the statistic that, in my mind, matters most. Save percentage. Out of those 81 goalies, Crawford, who has appeared in 392 games, has the second-highest save percentage while wearing a Hawks sweater, at 91.9 percent. Chris Clifford (2 games), Sebastien Caron (1 game) and Ray LeBlanc (1 game) do not count, for obvious reasons. 

Only Scott Darling, who played 75 games here, had a higher save percentage at .923.

Esposito (.859) ranks 39th. Hall's save percentage is not listed, due in part to the era he played in. And Belfour (.903) is 13th in team history. 

Let's move to goals against average, known as the average number of goals a netminder allows per game.

Esposito's GAA while here was 2.93. Hall's was 2.60. Belfour checks in at 2.65 during his time in Chicago. Crawford, meanwhile, has a 2.36 career GAA.

Wins, you ask? Esposito checks in with 418 career victories in a Hawks uniform, specifically, which is most in team history. He played until age 40. Glenn Hall posted 275 wins here, and played until he was 39. Crawford, at age 33, is already third in team history, with 220 wins. Belfour, meanwhile, won 201 games while in Chicago, before playing for San Jose, Dallas and Toronto. 

Esposito won the Vezina Trophy, awarded to the NHL's best goaltender, three times. As did Hall. Belfour, meanwhile, was given this honor twice.

Charlie Gardiner, the only other Hawks goalie to win the Vezina, did so twice as well --- in 1931-32, and 1933-34 --- but only posted a 112-152-52 career record.

In 15 seasons in Chicago, Esposito tallied 30-plus wins eight times. But it took him 15 seasons. Belfour posted 30-plus wins just three times in Chicago, and nine times total --- but it took him 18 years to do so.

Hall posted 30-plus victories just six times in 18 seasons. 

Crawford, shockingly, has never finished better than fifth in the Vezina voting, despite posting 30-plus wins six times already in just seven full seasons (and parts of 10 total, not including this year).

Are your eyes open yet? Mine are.

When I was a child, my first experience at an NHL hockey game was going to the Old Chicago Stadium, A.K.A. the original 'Madhouse on Madison,' And boy, was it an absolute doozie.

April 20, 1983. Game 5 of the Norris Divison Finals between the Hawks and their rival, the Minnesota North Stars. Standing room only. My father pulled me out of my first grade class that day, told me we were going to a dentist appointment to appease my principal, and whisked me away with his friend into the back of a van and took me to this game, instead.

He gave me earplugs during the singing of the Star Spangled Banner by soloist Wayne Messmer. Much as it does today during Jim Cornelison's rendition, the rafters shook. Sound had feel in a way no 6-year old child ever expects to experience in their entire lifetime. I remember it clear as day.

I was scared shitless. Dad ... well he just smiled, put his arm around me, and the moment changed my life forever. The Hawks and North Stars hated each other so much, they probably would've gone out in the alley and beat each other senseless, then gouged each other's eyeballs out, if they could have.

It was nastier than any Bulls-Pistons rivalry. It was filled with more hate than even the dirtiest Bears-Packers game.

The Hawks went on to win that day, 5-2, and took the series, four games to one. In goal that day was a 39-year-old Esposito, in the twilight of his career. He stopped 37 of the 39 shots he faced. Chants of "To-ny-0, To-ny-0, To-ny-0," ripped through the Stadium with thunderous approval. 

If there's a better Chicago hockey baptism story out there, I'd love to hear it. Every day for the next week, daily, against his better judgement I'm guessing, my dad let me wear my red iron-on Hawks T-shirt we bought at the game. The sport consumed me and my thoughts the rest of my childhood.

And when Belfour played here in the 1990s, I can't forget the chants of "Ed-die, Ed-die, Ed-die," tearing through the rafters of the Old Barn, and later, the United Center. He was feisty, too, leading the league in penalty minutes by goalies for several seasons.

It makes me wonder.

Why is Crawford rarely treated with the same respect, and the same passion by fans? Is it how quiet he is? Is it because he goes about his business rarely showing emotion? Or is it because Esposito posted a ridiculous 74 shutouts as a Blackhawk, Belfour tallied 30 while here, and Hall had 51 of them in a Chicago jersey --- while Crawford has just 23? 

Crawford has won a pair of Stanley Cups (you know, the reason they play in the first place) here, something Esposito or Belfour never did while in Chicago, while Hall did just once.

This season, Crow looks better than I've ever seen him. He's square to shooters. He's not overplaying pucks. He's moving post-to-post with near perfection. He's aggressive and beyond confident. His 7-4-0 record, 1.75 GAA and ridiculous .945 save percentage is the main reason the Hawks have a winning record. He's posted back to back shutouts for the first time since late 2015.

Then, there's this.

In the playoffs, specifically, Esposito is 45-53 in his career as a Blackhawk, with a 3.07 GAA if you include all teams he played for. Hall was 31-38 while here, and has a 2.78 career GAA in the postseason. Belfour fares better, at 35-28 in the playoffs in a Hawks' sweater, and his 2.17 postseason GAA and .920 save percentage are outstanding.

The thing is, Crawford has more playoff wins while in Chicago, specifically, than all three of them. His 48-37 postseason mark, 2.29 GAA and .917 save percentage hold water against all three Hawks' legends.

Maybe --- just maybe --- we take Crawford for granted in a way no franchise's fan base ever should. Clearly, we are witnessing a goaltender in his prime, one who will still remain a factor for years to come.

Whether it's on social media, inside the United Center, or elsewhere, the venom some fans spit Crow's way runs rampant. I've openly been critical of him at times, but my criticisms came from more of a nitpicking standpoint, and minor fundamental details I saw. 

But there's a larger base of fans that genuinely dislikes like Crawford, or even wants him traded. 

To those fans, I say be careful what you wish for. In the two hours or so I studied the history of this franchise's netminders, I learned more than I ever could have imagined about how rare a breed Crawford truly is. He's lightning in a bottle. He's a once in a generation shooting star in this sport. His consistency, shutouts or not, masks his lack of flashiness, crazy soundbites, or other quirks that seem to accompany other NHL goalies.

After all, you have to be a little goofy to take pucks to the body and face for a living, right? But Crow is none of those things. He's the lunchpail 9 to 5 guy who shows up at work, does his job, and damn it, he succeeds, no matter what anyone thinks of him.

And when all is said and done, if he plays long enough, he may wind up being the best goalie to ever wear a Blackhawks jersey, whether you like it or not.

My hope, personally, is fans start letting him know they feel the same way a little bit more often during games here at home, with echoes of "Cor-ey, Co-rey" filling the air.

While we still can.