Taking care of your Chicago Bears fan mind, body and soul.

Sometimes the universe does not give you the quarterback you wanted. Sometimes it gives you the quarterback you need. So here we are. Case Keenum. Veteran quarterback. Emergency starter. Professional human being. Potential Monday Night Football legend.

Cicero is now convinced that the Chicago Bears have discovered an ancient offensive power hidden beneath Soldier Field, somewhere between the original sod and a forgotten Chicago parking ticket.

The Bears scored points with the enthusiasm of a teenager who just discovered the unlimited breadsticks a 1980’s Pizza Hut buffet. Cicero has consulted the Des Plaines River. The river spoke. It said: "MORE."

Cicero Bear has awakened. Not gently. Not peacefully. Not with the serene mindfulness of a woodland creature emerging from a long winter's sleep.

He exploded out of his den at approximately 6:17 this morning, screamed "BEAR DOWN" at the Des Plaines River, frightened three squirrels, startled a family of geese, and immediately began doing yoga.

There are moments in a bear's life when the forest calls. The Des Plaines River whispers. The leaves fall. The temperature drops. And eventually, Cicero enters his lair, curls into a magnificent ball of fur, and hibernates. Usually, this lasts several months. This year, however, there was a problem. I overslept.

This is advanced Bears fandom. Be grateful the team is relevant again. Be grateful games matter. Be grateful that hope returned without apology.

And still demand more. Gratitude is not complacency. It is energy conservation for future rage.

Cicero bows to the season for what it gave, not for what it promised.

The Rams are walking into a stadium that just watched its team spiritually bury its oldest enemy, and then calmly wipe its hands. That energy does not dissipate in a week. It compounds.

Cicero nods. The river flows. The message is clear. The Bears are done explaining themselves.

Close your eyes. See the line surge forward. Hear the crowd rise. Feel the weight of decades lift. This is not the underdog moment. This is the reckoning. On the ground. In the cold. With authority.

I sit in the Cook County Forest Preserve, watching the Des Plaines River move slowly beneath a skin of ice. Snow gathers on fallen branches. The forest is calm. Centered. A place where thoughts slow and truths reveal themselves. Winter has arrived. The regular season nears its end. And in the purest form of truth, the Bears are kings. Say it again. Kings. Of. The. North.