Only Rick Telander thought the Bears would finish within a touchdown in this Super Bowl XLI rematch.
Meanwhile, the Tribsters have become completely obsessed with Kyle Orton's facial/neck hair when they're not too busy predicting that the Bears will not win more than eight games this season.
I'd like to go on record on this, the first official NFL Gameday Sunday of the season, and reiterate my unwavering, righteously indignant belief in the Bears this season. This is a franchise that thrives on lack of expectation and on-paper talent. It's a franchise that constantly challenges us all to rethink our notions of exactly how an NFL team should be run. It's a franchise that, yes, in the past has caused us to think twice about whether we want to spend time, emotion, energy and prayer on any sports team ... ever.
But we are Chicago.
We're not, as one Deadspin contributor who doesn't even live in the Midwest and grew up nowhere near the Chicago metro area so smugly dubbed us, the city of Shrugged Shoulders. We're Chicago. Which means that even if we don't win, we still win. We may not have invented the mustache, but we perfected it. We may not have invented encased meat, but we devour it with more reckless abandon than Austria and Germany combined. And we may not have invented losing, but we do it with more charm, style and gut-wrenching epicness than anyone in the world.
We win because we're nothing more than Chicago -- City of the Century, birthplace of grit. I'd take a thousand Cade McNowns over one Tom Brady if it meant that I never had to live anywhere else or root for any other team with the blind optimism of a gadfly.
With that, I offer this prognostication: Bears 32, Colts 24.