Monday Night Madness

After bemoaning my lack of cable, I decided to take things into my own hands for the Vikings/Bears Monday Night game. I got together with a bunch of friends and headed to Buffalo Wild Wings for the game.

First thing to keep in mind. Central Illinois is all Bears fans. There are a few random fans for various other teams, but watching last night, you wouldn't have known it. (It's an interesting dynamic because when it comes to baseball there is an even split between Cardinals and Cubs fans. Football? I think there are ZERO Rams fans around here, especially this season). Since it's Bear country, the restaurant (henceforth called 'B-dubs') was packed for the Monday nighter. I got there 25 minutes before game time and was told my party of seven would have to wait 40 minutes or more. We sat down right before kickoff, thankful that the estimate was wrong.

By the way, it was crazy to see people bailing out in the waiting area. In the time I was there I saw at least two parties, both which arrived before me, fly the coop. A) If you're coming to watch the football game, what are you doing? B) If you're not coming to watch the football game, why did you come at all?

B-dubs, for those of you who don't know, is basically a sports bar, with less emphasis on the beer, and more focused attention on the TV's and wings. We sat down at our table and directly over the head of my friend sitting opposite me was a huge (6 feet at least) screen with the game projected on the wall. I could have spent the whole night pretending to converse with my friend, while nodding and really watching the game. If he had known this, it could have served him well. "So Pheaney, I hear you wanted to get me a Christmas present." (silent unfocused nod) "Pheaney, weren't you going to pay me a million dollars for being such a great guy." (nod again and think: 'Will this guy ever stop talking, I'm trying to watch the game!')

So the game started, and to my horror, the Vikings were kicking to Devin Hester. Why do we do this? I'm not sure. You'd think his performance in week 6, only negated by Peterson's 224 yards, would have been a lesson to us. He ended up not taking it to the house this game, but there were a few punts about which I was REAL worried. And as the Vikings fan grows more worried, the Bears fans grow louder and louder: Hester is about all they have to cheer about.

I do feel for the Bears this season. They expected so much and did so little. I'm liking the Vikings style of season: come in with no expectations, start out 3-5 so no one expects anything from you, lose your fifth game 34 to nil, and then rattle off five wins to hold the last wild card spot. The worst part for the Bears? How do you recover next season? Their RB situation is a mess, their QB situation is even worse. Their defense is still okay, but they have some questions. Special teams is about the one thing they can cling to, mostly in thanks to Hester.

And since the Bears playoffs hopes were officially buried with this game, can I ask Lovie Smith to try something? Why not give the ball to Hester every play? He's one of few players in the NFL that opposing teams (and fans) fear. I was seriously cringing every time they kicked to him. And Bears fans started cheering as soon as he caught the ball. So line up Hester in a punt formation. Long snap it to him, and see what happens. I'm guessing that in four downs he would average two tackles for losses, one first down conversion, and one touchdown. Don't the Bears owe it to their fans to try something exciting after Ron Turner's inept attempts at an offense?

I was thinking similar thoughts about the Vikings offense throughout the first half. Peterson couldn't run. Jackson couldn't throw (or he needed to be jumping to do so.) Both guys were turnover prone. I really don't know which is more frustrating: A) Watching your team consistently go 3 and out (Bears). or B) Watching your team drive 50+ yards and then give the ball away (Vikings). I'll go with C) Going 3 and out AND turning the ball over would be the worst.

By this time the eight people at our table have ordered and consumed at least 100 hot wings. B-dubs has 15 or so levels of hot sauces. The most I can stand is about 5 flavors from the hottest. After watching everyone eat I've developed a theory pertaining to hot wings and football games: "The perceived time of the game being watched increases as the hot wings grow spicier." Case in point: I downed all of my wings in the first quarter, which seemed to take forever. The second quarter seemed to fly by since my meal was done. My brother ate most of his wings in that quarter, after which he stated: "Didn't it seem that the first quarter went by fast, but this quarter took longer?"

At halftime I made a run to the rest room and made an amazing discovery about B-dubs. They have small flat panel TVs above the urinals! How cool is that! I didn't have the privilege of using this wonderful combination of technology and porcelain: Both urinals were taken. And for good reason. Once you set down in front of there to do your business, you might as well take your time. Here's a mental picture for you: A Bears fan urinating while watching Devin Hester return a kickoff for a touchdown. I'm thinking that guy comes out of there soaked in his own urine. How could it not happen?

Midway through the third quarter I decide to order dessert: Deep Dish Apple Pie. It should have been labeled 'Small Slice Deep Dish Apple Pie.' Don't get me wrong, it was good, but for $5, I expect a big piece of dessert.

The football highlight of the night (for me) was watching Darren Sharper seal the game with an interception. All night I had been taunting "Orton is good for at least one interception." It turns out I was right! Sharper saved the day, and the Vikings pulled out the win. Between you and me, I'm really not super excited about their chances to even make the playoffs. I'll take this five-game win streak for what it is: a five-game win streak. Let's hope it continues.

The real highlight of the night was catching up with friends. Two guys had been away at college and catching up on their dorm life was a blast. I hadn't watched a full game with my brother this season, and he was next to me for all 60 minutes. Football is fun. If you don't think so, you would have stopped reading by now. I challenge you to use the fun for something more: Go work on a friendship or two. (What have you got to lose? At worse you can walk out of B-dubs smirking at all the Bears fans.)