Jan. 08--Pro football has arrived, as it invariably does, at that part of the year known as the NMB playoffs. That, of course, stands for No More Bears, a time of serenity and comfort. While other poor souls agonize and fret, Bears fans put their feet up, loosen their belts, open another cold one and relax.
The pain is gone. Nothing worse can happen. No more lies to be told, no more rays of hope to be chased, no more straws to be clutched.
Let others fret, the anxious of Houston, the restless of Minnesota, the uneasy of Arizona, the hopeful of Washington. Chicago can but smile at their discomfort, for Bears fans have at rare moments been there, too, awaiting the looming grief, as inevitable as ice.
How much more restful is the quiet of failure, how much more reassuring is early disappointment (for the Bears usually October) than is late regret, dreams smashed, hopes shattered, the cruel lament of what might have been.
Better the agony come soon than late. Easier on the soul.
Pity poor Cincinnati, full of faith, and tardy Pittsburgh, sheepish but positive. Even Denver and New England, expectations met, frustration to follow.
Here's the happy situation at the bottom of the NFC North. Things aren't as bad as they were, but not good enough to cause alarm.
As it turns out, this Bears season was fine, if familiar is fine. The Bears' grasp probably exceeded their reach. They are a young -- well youngish -- team. They are an injured team. They are a work in progress. Half of them will be gone next season.
They finished as afterthoughts, but shouldn't shrug off a pat on the back. And here it is. Good job. Considering.
The beauty of low expectations is that when expectations are reached they appear so much higher, so when some of us suggested -- let's see, I have it here somewhere -- "the Bears may be the worst team in the NFL", and they turn out to be only another part of the stink pile, well, let's concede progress has been made.
Not forgetting that this Bears team was not a team built to win as much as a team built to save a place in line, which it did, finishing no further behind nor ahead than it had been.
Still there is no reason for a marching band and balloons. No votes for John Fox as coach of the year for losing less awfully than the last guy. A little scratching of the head maybe for how the offensive and defensive coordinators of a 6-10 team became head coaching prospects, but who knows the mind of an NFL owner and his toys?
As the season unfurled, made of parts luck, deeds and misdeeds, there was more the notion that it matters less now than it will tomorrow. This is what an uncertain team does, plays well, plays poorly, takes the blows, gets the scars, and one day soon it will turn into the Patriots. Oh, sure.
The Bears have the quarterback (we once again are expected to believe), they have the coach, they have the ambition. It has to happen.
But not soon. Not soon enough to disrupt a nap. The next Bears playoff team will not have Jay Cutler at quarterback. There's nothing that can be done about that. There is no amazing Cam Newton waiting to fall into the lap of the Bears, no remarkable Russell Wilson.
In all the post-mortem gibberish from general manager Ryan Pace and Fox, the most comforting is the endorsement of Cutler as the centerpiece of whatever happens next. Ah, old Jay. Fooled 'em again.
Think of the annual, he's great, he's good enough, he's not as bad as I thought, pronouncements on Cutler from others before Pace and Fox and it is like marking the passing of days on the wall of a jail cell.
There will be an end to it, the Cutler calendar, but there is, too, pleasure in expecting the worst and getting a bit better from time to time.
Not too much. Not too often. Best all around to leave the Bears unstirred.
Ah, peace. Ain't it wonderful?
Bernie Lincicome is a special contributor to the Chicago Tribune.
