Chicago is a city built by the working class. Each week, countless people wake up early, don their work clothes, and head to jobs they often tolerate rather than enjoy. Besieged by monotony, Chicagoans brave the heat, the cold, and the storms to provide for themselves and their families. By Friday, they're rewarded with a weekend that feels all too brief. Saturday is spent unwinding—heading to your favorite bar, catching up with friends, and enjoying a well-deserved break. But Sunday? Sunday is sacred. In this city, it’s a day reserved for only two things: church and Chicago Bears football. In fact, it’s so sacred that you will find many pulpits of ministers in Bears jerseys, preaching as fast as they can, hoping to reach their TV in time to watch their beloved team.
While the preseason might lack the gravity of regular-season Sundays, that doesn’t diminish the importance of these games for Bears fans. Chicagoans still carve out time to watch, to hope, and to dream of a successful season. For them, the 2024 season represents more than just a series of games—it symbolizes the possibility of success, a promise that transcends the game and touches on something deeper: the desire to see their beloved Bears triumph before their time on this earth runs out.
So how much is a first down really worth? Everything. In a city that’s often divided, the Bears are the glue that binds people together, if only for one day a week. Outsiders may struggle to understand the almost religious reverence the Bears command here, but for those who’ve lived and breathed Chicago, it’s crystal clear.
Saturday’s preseason matchup against the Cincinnati Bengals encapsulated the Chicago sports experience—swinging between dreadful lows and ineffable highs. As I sit in the Soldier Field press box, with the echoes of today's game still fresh in my mind, I can't help but circle back to the question: How much is a first down really worth? For the Chicago Bears, it's more than just yards on the field—it’s a currency of hope, the price of possibility, and a measure of resilience in the face of relentless doubt. Every completed pass, every scramble for extra yards, every fleeting moment of success chips away at the fear and trauma that has plagued this franchise for decades. It’s in these moments, however small, that we find a reason to believe that maybe—just maybe—their destiny isn't carved in futility but in the pursuit of something greater. And that, to me, is worth every ounce of uncertainty that comes with watching this storied, yet beleaguered, team.
In fact, Sundays feel created just for this. For Bears fans, it’s impossible not to give in to that feeling of relentless hope, and I advise every fan to give into it. So, when it hits noon on a Sunday this season, toss on your favorite Bears jersey and turn your TV to Fox. Let the hope wash over you like a flood because, as the philosopher Randy Moss once said, “You can’t do nothing but get your roll on.”
