Not even Christmas morning can compare to the excitement a kid feels when he wakes up on Super Bowl Sunday, shakes off the exhaustion and remembers his team will be playing that night.
I was 16 years old when I finally experienced that feeling. It was Super Bowl XLI and my Chicago Bears were finally playing football in February against the Peyton Manning-led Indianapolis Colts.
Until 2006, the Bears had led an up-and-down existence in my lifetime. They were el stinko in the ‘90s, but I didn’t have to pay that any mind because that was in the thick of the Michael Jordan era and I had filled my quota of outrageously dominating athleticism for one decade. Still, I had always wished to see the Bears on Super Bowl Sunday. I could only coast on the past glory of the '85 Bears (the greatest football team ever, in case you were curious) for so long. I needed my own team.
The 2006 Bears certainly seemed like my generation’s version of that team. Like the ‘85 team, those Bears were fueled by a dominant defense, a powerful ground attack and an enigmatic rookie (kick returner Devin Hester was a much fitter William “The Refrigerator” Perry) that brought the entire city to its feet every time he got his hands on the ball.
As the game prepared to kick off, I threw on my newest piece of Bears paraphernalia - a brand new hat!- as a measure of support. I had my share of team merchandise in my lifetime, but I also felt that with the Super Bowl appearance being such a rarity, I needed to add a new dimension to my game-day wardrobe to give the squad an added boost. This is the kind of unhealthy superstition in sports fans that mothers hope will end with adulthood, yet without fail lasts until the nurses are changing your Bears-themed bedpan in the local retirement home.
Rain fell for the first time in Super Bowl history that evening, which may have goaded the Colts into kicking to Devin Hester on the game’s opening kickoff. The absurdity of kicking the ball to Devin Hester is something that still leaves me vexed after all these years but kudos to Tony Dungy for taking the gamble. I can say kudos because this happened.
After Hester’s 98-yard, rain-soaked touchdown scamper, Peyton Manning threw an interception on the Colts’ opening drive and at the end of the first quarter, Chicago was up 14-6. My lucky hat/new best friend was doing just what I’d paid him for.
And then Rex Grossman forgot how to play football. Okay, Grossman wasn’t fully to blame for the Bears loss, but he sure tried his best to make us all believe it was. The up-and-down quarterback, who in that season had passer ratings as high as 148 and as low as zero, completed three of five passes for one touchdown in the first quarter. After that, he turned the ball over three times, including a hideous game-deciding interception to Kelvin Hayden who returned it for a touchdown in the fourth quarter, giving the Colts the 29-17 victory.
Luckily, if you read my last sports memory, you will remember that I am emotionally dead inside. So although the sting of defeat was tough to swallow, I was able to compose myself relatively quickly and move on.
With that said, not all were spared from my wrath in the wake of the loss. That hat has not seen the light of day since. Damn jinx.