It is over; it is all over.
It is Thursday, Sept. 22, the Chicago Bears are 0-2 and I have given up all hope. At least I think I have.
Every year I go into the new NFL season with the highest hopes for the hometown Bears. I have honestly convinced my fickle mind that the Bears are going to somehow pull it together, but they somehow seem to always pull me right back down to the stiff reality they are not meant to be good. Until Mike Ditka and the 1985 Bears can shuffle through time and play again, I will continue to get my hopes up just to have them ripped back down again.
I woke up the morning after the Bears’ most recent loss on Monday Night Football with yet another realization that this will not be the year for the Bears. It is week three of the NFL season and I have already given up all hope.
So in my search for meaning in my life, where do I find myself? Where do I place myself in the infinite spectrum of my mental capacity of what is important in the sports world?
When I step back and think, examine and try not to look past the depressing glare in my mind, I really think that my life is not that bad. I remember that my sports future is as bright as it can be.
The start of the Bears season has blinded to me to what is to come in just a few short weeks. In a few weeks, the leaves will begin to change color and playoff baseball will be upon me. More importantly, postseason baseball for the Chicago Cubs will be here and that is a sight that will cure any troubles the Bears brought me.
Having the Cubs in the postseason is not a new memory, but being in the postseason with such high expectations is a new way of life. Last years the Cubs could do no wrong after making it into the Wild Card game during the 2015 season. There was zero expectations, there was only wonder and awe for whatever the team did.
But this year, I expect more. I am getting my hopes up and I am getting ready for a lengthy run. This hope has a different feeling than the any hope I have ever had for a Bears season.
This hope actually has real meaning behind it. This hope does not make me a hopelessly optimistic. Maybe I am being overly dramatic, but I’ll be more dramatic than a soap opera if that means filling the absence of hope in my life.
The Cubs are going to fix the ultimate fluxion of emotions in ultimately weak mind. I emotionally attach my brain and heart to any Chicago team that shows hope, but the Cubs have shown more than hope. The Cubs have legitimized the hopes and desires of fans in the city, including myself.
It really is not all over. It is a new day and I still have hope.