More Grated Cheese: House Money and California Dreaming
Bears 31, Packers 27
Last week I said Saturday night was the moment of truth.
We were finally going to find out if this team was for real… or just full of shit.
Four quarters later, the verdict is clear:
The Chicago Bears are for real.
And the Green Bay Packers are—officially—full of shit.
I still can’t believe we fucking won. Even Al Michaels thought this shit was over.
I watched the whole thing at my buddy’s Bears bar, Overlook, in Midtown NYC, and the place was absolutely lit. Hugging strangers. Yelling at TVs. Losing voices. It felt unreal. Like a dream where you finally get to punch back.
For one night on a Saturday in Chicago, this felt like the biggest Bears game since the Super Bowl run in ’85. And somehow, you could feel that energy all 2,000+ miles away here in New York.
A Tale of Two Halves (And My Receding Hairline)
Let’s not sugarcoat it.
The first half was a nightmare.
Jordan Love was carving our defense apart like a Thanksgiving turkey.
21–3.
Easy throws. Easy yards. Packers laughing on the sideline like this shit was practice.
You could see it on the fans’ faces on TV.
You could feel it at the bar.
That familiar, sinking feeling.
Here we go again.
Even my mom texted me:
“Like… what the fuck, bro?”
That’s when Ben Johnson happened.
Once again, he rallied the fucking troops. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: this man is worth every penny. After the Eagles game, limping into the playoffs, and now this? He should be dipped in bronze like a pair of Sears baby shoes and cherished forever.
Whatever he said in that locker room worked.
Because the second half felt like the Bears finally saying:
“I’ve had enough of this fucking shit.”
They locked in.
They settled down.
They chipped away.
The offensive line played their asses off.
Ozzy Trapillo—feel better, man. We’re gonna miss you.
And the young guys?
They didn’t blink.
The New Kids on the Block (And Me Eating Crow)
I’ll own this one.
I didn’t want Colston Loveland.
I wanted a pass rusher. I wanted Tyler Warren.
I was wrong.
Loveland looks like the second coming of Travis Kelce. Like it or not, that’s what it is. He’s real, he’s clutch, and he shows up when it matters.
And then there’s Caleb Williams.
I was a Penix guy.
I was a Jayden Daniels guy.
I thought Caleb was all painted nails, matcha lattes, and Denmark trips.
But Ben Johnson sat him down and gave him the Good Will Hunting treatment.
Jason Whitlock nailed it: Ben Johnson was Robin Williams. Caleb was Matt Damon. Tough love. Discipline. Channeling raw talent instead of letting it run wild.
The growth is a full 180°.
Last year under Eberlose versus now? Night and fucking day.
After that early interception, Caleb didn’t spiral. He went to the bench like, “Not on my watch. Let’s screw this shit on straight.”
From the pocket? Calm.
Fourth-and-eight? HAM!
The dimes to DJ Moore? Unreal.
And DJ?
He’s having a postseason that’s some straight Don Mattingly shit.
The Bronson Effect
Ben Johnson is the Charles Bronson of the NFL.
If you’ve ever seen Hard Times, you know the deal. Quiet. Stoic. Bare-knuckle boxer drifting through the Depression. Young hotshots think they’ve got him figured out.
Then the bell rings.
And the room gets real quiet.
That’s Ben.
Just when you think it’s over, he adjusts. He rallies the troops. He beats the opponent’s ass.
Coaching fucking matters.
Because we’ve lived through the opposite for 30+ years:
Trestman.
John fucking Fox.
Nagy.
Eberlose.
And the broken quarterback carousel: Cutler. Bitchell. Caleb Hanie. Fields.
For the first time in decades, this feels different.
I feel like that POW in Rambo II getting rescued. I thought I’d been gone three weeks—turns out it’s been 30 years. Suddenly it’s 1985 and I’m being brought back to life.
I have winning football in my life again.
The Speech That Changed Everything
If you haven’t seen the locker room video, go watch it.
Ben Johnson screaming “Fuck the Packers!” like the walls owed him money.
Then he hands it to Caleb.
No corny bullshit.
No empty slogans.
Caleb looks right at Ben and says:
“For me personally, he’s been monumental in my life.”
That’s leadership.
That’s growth.
None of the quarterbacks we’ve had were at this level—mentally, emotionally, or competitively.
This kid gets it now.
About That Handshake…
Is it just me, or is it hilarious that people are still talking about the Matt LaFleur–Ben Johnson handshake?
Fuck the Packers.
We’re in the Divisional Round with a shot at the Super Bowl and people are crying about a greeting? If that shit happened with Ditka in his prime, LaFleur would’ve caught a throat punch on national TV.
You lost.
We beat you two out of three times this year.
Before January 5, 2025, we hadn’t beaten you in 2,212 days.
That six-year nightmare is over.
Even Gemini knew that shit was a wrap.
Get over it.
And fuck off.
