Super Bowlful of Friendship

Can we still be friends? It is a stretch, but I believe so.

I know my favorite team, the Packers, won Super Bowl XLV. And, the game before that they beat your favorite team, the Bears, in the NFC Championship. And, three games before that, the Packers beat the Bears in the final game of the regular season. I think you said, “The Bears let the Packers into the playoffs.” But, I had nothing to do with that. If it is the policy of the Bears to let certain teams into the playoffs, that is a matter for management to discuss.

After the last game of the season you e-mailed and confessed that you could not root for the Packers in the Super Bowl. You said, “I thought about it, but I just can’t do it. I’ll remain neutral.” I understand that hating the Packers is almost as high a priority for you as rooting for the Bears, but before that game you said you would root for the NFC North in the Super Bowl. I guess you changed your mind. If the Bears were in it, I told you, I would have rooted for the NFC North. Sadly, the Bears were not in the Super Bowl, so I had to root for the Packers. I sensed some bitterness about that on your part. Maybe you felt bad that you plastered the outside of my house and car with Bears paraphernalia before the NFC Championship game, then posted the pictures on Facebook. (At first, I thought maybe a garbage truck had overturned on my street and the contents had blown into my yard. Later I found out it was you.)

Then, at the Super Bowl party (your buffalo wings were good, by the way) I asked again who you were rooting for, to give you another chance to do the right thing. You said, “The Steelers.”

“You are rooting for Ben Rothlisberger, the criminal?”

“No, I am rooting for the Steelers.”

I guess you changed your mind again. Something about cheering for the enemy of your enemy. And, after the Packers won the Super Bowl, adding to their 12 World Championships, you left the party rather quickly. I understand that. People were excited and jumping up and down, like when good triumphs over evil in the movies. Or, in the Bible. It was probably too loud. It was nice, though, when your wife said, “Aren’t you going to congratulate your friend?” and you said, “Good game.” Or, something like that to me. I couldn’t really hear you as you pulled the door shut behind you. It’s hard, I know, but this shouldn’t ruin things.

My point is: I am not the Packers. And, you are not the Bears. We’re just old friends. And my team happened to win Super Bowl XLV. Please don’t be angry.

I like to think our friendship transcends trivial things, like sports. We have camped together, mountain biked together, travelled together, and served others together. Recently, you even called me to go to lunch, after I mentioned an argument with my wife. The argument was no big deal, but you took it as an opportunity to ask me about my marriage. Those kinds of friends are hard to come by. Let’s not allow the recent Packer Super Bowl Championship to get in the way of our relationship.

In fact, I take it back; you are the Bears, my friend. The 1985 Super Bowl Champion Bears. There’s no higher compliment I can give in northern Illinois; you are the ‘85 Bears. And, I am the 2010 Packers. We’re all good, right?