Besides saving Jim Harbaugh, the Bears must learn to conserve fuel, too.
This past weekend, they log about eight hours on a charter plane that travels from Chicago to Southern California and back. Yet, in some three hours at Anaheim Stadium Sunday, our Marshmallows of the Midway cannot complete even a round trip around the field against another mediocre football team.
In nautical terms, that means schlepping approximately 3,500 air miles to accumulate upon landing 163 yards, the Bears’ total offense, you should pardon the expression. Even at a time when the Fox Network fills NFL pockets with found money, this is heinous waste, like dumping precious gas. For 29 cents, the Bears can mail their game plan to the Los Angeles Rams and surrender.
The 20-6 loss is geographically fitting, for it occurs near Disneyland, cartoon capital of the universe. The Bears, masquerading as a playoff squad for much of the winter, sign off in appropriate fashion. P.T. Willis fires an interception on the last play and the Bears finish a sixth game out of 16 without a touchdown. Rarely has a season been so pointless. If the Bears do this as a collegiate outfit, at least they never get accused of cheating.
But recruiting players is what the Bears must do, and it must begin with quarterback. If Dave Wannstedt, the rookie coach, wants Harbaugh to return, you figure we would know by now. After Sunday’s seance, Wannstedt does the politically correct thing. He is asked about Harbaugh, and Wannstedt says he must look at the films. Wannstedt sees more bad movies lately than Siskel and Ebert, and they don’t serve popcorn in the Halas Hall darkroom. When coaches bring lunch there, the brown bags are for their heads.
The theory is that owner Michael McCaskey, who pays Harbaugh $5 million, will push to roll over the investment next season, when Harbaugh would earn only $3 million. But, in between field goals Sunday, McCaskey admits that the Bear attack is feeble. McCaskey also says he didn’t say what a tabloid headline said he said, that Harbaugh will be back. We know Harbaugh is not untouchable, because he is a sack waiting to happen, but is Harbaugh unhealthy at any price?
“Dave and I have had good success talking over everything,” McCaskey says. “If he wants to talk about the quarterback, we’ll talk about the quarterback.”
As a humanitarian gesture, what the Bears should do is free Harbaugh on his own recognizance. If he were a pinhead, lacking spirit or desire or bravery, it would be a non-decision. But by being a standup guy who happens to fall apart shortly after the huddle breaks, Harbaugh makes nothing easy. He is a terrific fellow and a spendid athlete. He just needs a new zip code. He can and will be serviceable somewhere, but the surest way he’ll come back to haunt the Bears is if he comes back next July.
Before they parole him, though, the Bears must apprehend a replacement. This is easier imagined than accomplished. Harbaugh, winning pitcher in all seven Bear victories, isn’t so maligned if he isn’t so durable. You don’t get booed in December if you’re wearing a body cast by October. Harbaugh lacks certain instincts, but self-survival isn’t among them. Asked what a more fragile soul might do in his job, Harbaugh responds, “Probably take a dive.” He smiles, but he speaks truth.
What good would a better quarterback do if not surrounded by better support? Some, until he is broken down into spare parts. Unless the Bears go for quantity, they should hire a chimpanzee to call signals. The annual late-season fade since the ancient Super Bowl XX dynasty is neither patented nor produced entirely by Harbaugh. Attrition wears no number, but it dominates those game films. Even the Bear defense bends at the end, probably out of frustration. On the field for all those minutes, and the only offense it can’t tee off on is Chicago’s.
But peace, Jim Harbaugh. Take a well-deserved vacation, and if it’s Iraq, you have our permission to overthrow Saddam, too.