Nothing But Iron: Men In Navy Blue October 19, 2007 by Steven R. Lagman, M.D., C.A.S.W. There is a widely held belief by people like me that the Bears still suck. The preponderance of the evidence, however, suggests that they do not. We may not like it, but they play pretty good football, to the point of costing me some sleep last Monday night, when they miraculously emerged from the heat of the Arizona desert, fully hydrated without a trace of sunburn. Miracles, of course, are relative, and beating the Cardinals, even after a 20-point deficit, even in front of actual fans who were actually cheering for them, is about as miraculous as surviving the common sneeze. Nonetheless, we have to give Chicago credit for remembering it was a vastly better team just in time to prove it. Or do we? Could it be that some mysterious force is responsible for the apparent resurgence of a team that was recently so bad that its status as arch rival of the Green Bay Packers was downgraded to that of mere opponent? Could it be that some higher power has intervened? The answer, in case you have a hard time following obvious clues, is yes. Had I not been in Chicago last week, attending the American Society of Anesthesiologists annual meeting, I would surely have missed it, but there it was, as plain as the biceps on Brian Urlacher’s chin, perfectly framed in the window of a McCormick Place shuttle bus: New Soldier Field. For a moment I dismissed NSF as an architect’s worst seizure or acid trip or an offshoot of a new neoclassical design called Ofukit. It was an obscene juxtaposition of Old and New like when Woody Allen was messing around with his own step daughter. From the west, it looked as if a massive flying saucer had landed in the stadium. Then, like the backblast from a UFO, it hit me: A flying saucer had landed in the middle of the stadium. On that flying saucer were, of course, aliens. It is aliens who control the Bears. It is aliens who control the Bears’ opponents. Aliens were in Lambeau Field on September 10th (disguised, I am sure, as drunk, shirtless tailgaters) and they were in University of Phoenix (speaking of acid trips) Stadium on Monday. Go ahead and laugh, but it doesn’t stop there. Aliens control me too. They woke me up after I had drifted into a sound slumber with the Cardinals leading comfortably, 23-10, and they compelled me to watch as they compelled Neil Rackers to kick his field goal attempt just wide to seal the Bears’ victory. Why are aliens Bears fans? They did not tell me. Worst of all, in an act of ultimate control unlike any seen since the days when Pinocchio was just a puppet, Aliens are keeping me from hating the Bears. They still let me hate the Vikings. I can even close my eyes and quickly despise the Cowboys of the mid 1990's. I know I could hate the Lions, if they weren’t so pathetic. So why is that I have this unshakable, embarrassing, annoying feeling of respect and admiration for the Bears? Why is that I watched Brian Urlacher’s interview after an inspiring Monday night performance and thought class act instead of ass act? Why is it that I can’t muster much spite for Lovie Smith or Mike Brown or Rex Grossman. Aliens is the only plausible explanation. _______________ Nothing But Iron is an amateur sports column written by and for devout Packers fans at the behest of extraterrestrial beings. Because of the overwhelming influence of said extraterrestrials, the author is not responsible for potentially offensive content that appears in this article, such as expressions of respect and admiration for the Bears, or for the dirty dishes he left on his desk or for the empty McDonalds wrappers on the floor of his car. This article is dedicated to the author’s most favorite Packers fan ever, his wife Kelly, who celebrates yet another year of age without evidence of aging. ©2006 DrTM Enterprises, a subsidiary of Alien Control, Inc. All rights reserved.

Alien spacecraft lands in Soldier Field.  Aliens take control of Bears and their opponents.