Talk about curses. Few teams, not even the Cubs, are more accursed than the Bears and their quarterbacks. For some reason it’s typical for sports franchises to have a hole in their fabrics that persists through generations. Both the Cubs and the White Sox have had problems at third base, with the Sox’ Robin Ventura and the Cubs’ current Aramis Ramirez two of the few to hold down the position with any dignity for any length of time since the days of Ron Santo and Bill Melton. Consistently the Bulls have lacked a dominating center even in their championship seasons, with Artis Gilmore in the late 70s the lone exception. Yet the Bears have had even worse luck with their quarterbacks. Since Hall of Famer Sid Luckman invented the modern quarterback in the era commemorated in the team’s official fight song–“We’ll never forget the way you thrilled the nation, with your T formation”–the Bears have struggled along with lesser talents at the key offensive position. When they did stumble on a capable player, such as Jim McMahon of the 1985 championship team, more often than not he proved brittle.
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So there was something eerily familiar about Rex Grossman going down in Minnesota the third week of the season. The Bears and new coach Lovie Smith had placed almost all their hopes for improvement in Grossman’s development, and at first they seemed justified. Displaying a rifle-accurate throwing arm and a new maturity in only the second game of his second season, he led the Bears to an upset of the archrival Packers–at Lambeau Field in Green Bay, no less. Suddenly the Bears, who’d looked as if they might go at least their first four games without a win after opening with a loss at home to the Detroit Lions, were playoff contenders. Yet just as suddenly, a week later Grossman was lost for the season. Trying to rally the Bears in the second half, he scrambled near the Vikings’ goal line and dived for the end zone, getting the nose of the ball across before dropping it when he hit the ground. A replay was required before his lunge was ruled a touchdown, and while the referees sorted it out Grossman lay sprawled on the artificial turf, apparently thanks to a Minnesota defender who had made him pay by crashing into his shoulder at the goal line. But it soon became apparent that it was not Grossman’s shoulder but his right knee that was hurt. Additional replays showed that he’d flexed it oddly diving for the goal line before any defender even threatened him. Without Grossman, the Bears’ rally fell short at 27-22; back in Chicago the following day doctors found he’d snapped the anterior cruciate ligament. The injury was even more freakish than Corey Patterson’s blown-out knee last year from stepping awkwardly on first base, and in light of Grossman’s season-ending injury a year ago–he broke his thumb when he was sacked–it raised concerns that he, like McMahon, simply may not be durable enough for the sport.
That was precisely the Bears’ persona in their 13-10 loss to the Redskins. Sure, the Bears gave up 171 yards rushing to Clinton Portis, but otherwise their defense gave the team a chance to win–in fact presented it with its only touchdown, on an interception return by Jerry Azumah. League-leading punter Brad Maynard pounded away with a 45-yard average on ten kicks to keep Washington honest in its field positions. But the offense was dead. The game was much more lopsided and dispiriting than the score would indicate, which is why the fans vented their frustrations on Quinn, who displayed the poise of a West Point grad who in combat forgets everything he’s learned.
It looks as if the Bears face another season of character building. But character was just about the only thing the previous coach, Dick Jauron, instilled in the Bears. They had the character part down. As for winning games without a National Football League quarterback, that’s another set of skills entirely–a knack the Bears have never mastered.
