Ditka, Destiny, and the Patriots at Soldier Field

The Invocation: The Universe Has a Mustache

Friends, fellow warriors of the Midway, and anyone who spent last Sunday screaming at a television in a state of spiritual ecstasy,

CALM YOUR MINDS. CLENCH YOUR PAWS. THE BEARS ARE BACK.

This Thursday, the football gods have arranged something so suspiciously poetic that even Cicero is setting aside his skepticism for a moment. Mike Ditka, the mustachioed embodiment of Chicago football stubbornness, will be honored at Soldier Field. And who arrives to face the Bears on this sacred occasion?

The New England Patriots.

Yes, those Patriots. The very same franchise that wandered into Super Bowl XX in January 1986 and left with a 46–10 loss to Ditka's magnificent Chicago Bears. A defeat so thorough that New England could have used the postgame film as a public service announcement about the dangers of challenging an angry grizzly.

Now, decades later, the Patriots return to Chicago on the night we honor the man who helped lead that legendary team. Coincidence? Perhaps. But Cicero has studied the pinecones, consulted the river spirits of the mighty Des Plaines, and performed three rounds of restorative yoga. The universe appears to be sending a message.

It is either a sign of destiny or an extraordinary scheduling department. Either way, I approve.

The Bear Awakens

After the Lambeau debacle sent our collective blood pressure into the stratosphere, Cicero retreated to the forest preserves. I meditated. I contemplated. I crushed several pinecones with my bare paws.

Then Caleb Williams returned. Thirty completions. 305 passing yards. A touchdown. No interceptions. The Bears marched into Atlanta, built a 31–7 lead, and reminded the football world that Chicago can, in fact, play offense without requiring an emergency wellness intervention.

The Falcons made things unnecessarily interesting late, because apparently even a comfortable Bears victory must include a complimentary cardiac stress test. But Kyler Gordon delivered the final dose of woodland justice, and Chicago escaped with a 31–23 victory.

The Bears are 4–2. The season is breathing. Atlanta's stadium briefly felt like a Chicago neighborhood where the local zoning board had approved an unreasonable number of Bears jerseys.

And Cicero has temporarily suspended his plans to hibernate until the Packers dissolve as an organization. Temporarily.

Thursday Night: Defend the Den

Now the Patriots come to Soldier Field, where the lake wind is preparing its seasonal personality disorder and the faithful are ready to roar. New England arrives at 4–2, riding its own momentum and presumably believing that a little Massachusetts confidence will carry it through the Windy City.

Adorable.

The Bears have Caleb back. The offense has rediscovered its rhythm. Luther Burden can turn a routine reception into a neighborhood disturbance. Colston Loveland is becoming a more utilized weapon. And the running game continues to find opportune times to fumble the football. Okay, so the offense is more rhythm and blues. AND PENALTIES.

We need pressure from someone besides our nickel defensive back. We need discipline. We need takeaways. We need eleven men flying to the football like Gene & Jude's just announced free hot dogs for life. No leaving the middle of the field more open than a Wisconsin tavern during a Packers bye week.

This is Soldier Field. Make them earn every blade of grass.

And for one evening, let the spirit of Ditka roam the sidelines. Let that glorious mustache hover over the stadium like a protective weather system. Let the Patriots remember what happened the last time Chicago welcomed them to a championship-sized argument.

We do not need to recreate Super Bowl XX. But if the universe insists, Cicero will not interfere.

Cicero's Thursday Night Meditation

Stand tall. Plant your feet. Breathe deeply.

Inhale confidence. Exhale the memory of Lambeau.

Inhale the roar of the Soldier Field faithful. Exhale the phrase, "Same old Bears."

Now visualize Caleb dropping back, surveying the field, and delivering a perfect strike.

Visualize the offensive line holding its ground.

Visualize the defense forcing a three-and-out.

Finally, visualize Mike Ditka's mustache glowing beneath the Soldier Field lights as the football gods whisper: "Bear Down."

Cicero may have made that last part up. But a wise bear knows that sometimes the universe speaks through history, sometimes through football, and sometimes through a mustache visible from low Earth orbit.

This is weaponized serenity.

The Oracle's Prediction

BEARS 46, PATRIOTS 17.

Because Tony Eason and Steve Grogan are not walking through that door! A hard-fought victory. A few defensive heart palpitations. At least one moment when Cicero must remind himself that throwing a television into Lake Michigan is not a recognized mindfulness practice.

And hopefully, a fourth-quarter performance that allows Chicago fans to finish their Italian beef without requiring emergency medical assistance.

Bear Down, Chicago.

Now somebody find me a pinecone. I have some remaining Packers-related feelings to process.