This week, I live in a city consumed. Only a game, you say? Tell it to the scamps who pitched themselves into Lake Michigan after dark on a day when the temperature did not exceed the freezing point. Aw, such an endearing waste of emergency resources! Every city loves a champion, but certain places embrace certain championship runs with special fervor and purpose. In Chicago, a championship run mounted by a defensive-minded Bears team is probably as heaven-sent as it gets, giving the real-life superfans a chance to flaunt their imperviousness to the elements and reaffirm solemn allegiance to smashmouth football.
My point is this: it may seem from the outside