Yes, that three-day-old dead horse is Jay Cutler and his infamous knee.  While others were busy on Sunday tweet-lynching Cutler and questioning the toughness of the guy, I was just disappointed  our offensive efforts fell flat in the first half. I never questioned if he was truly hurt. After all, wasn’t this the same QB who spent most of the season picking turf out of his teeth? Seriously, I lost track of how many times the guy was sacked. And he kept getting up.

So, I was appalled at the lambasting Cutler took for the next 24 hours. I’m not a big fan of Dallas Mavericks owner Mark Cuban, but he was correct when he said in an interview on Mike and Mike that he wasn’t surprised by the fallout. He explained with today’s social networking, especially Twitter, it’s not about content, it’s about who can get it out there first and suffer the consequences later. 

Exactly.

But it isn’t just the Cutler fiasco. It’s the tremor of hate I felt all the way to Kansas, hate spewed at the Bears organization and in particular Lovie Smith, by so-called fans. By Monday morning, the city of Chicago was not only running Cutler out on a rail, they were (again) questioning the decisions of head coach Lovie Smith.  Does someone really need to remind these idiots the Bears not only won the NFC North division, one game away from a sweep, but were playing for the NFC championship? On Sunday? Oh, and Cutler was the starting QB and Lovie the head coach who helped get them there?  How easily they forget. While most fans were sitting at home, their teams never even making it to a wild card playoff game, Bears fans were taking part in one of the most historic games of our time.

I guess it goes along with the remark by Cuban. In this society of instant gratification, if your head coach doesn’t get the team to a  Super Bowl, let alone win, in his first season then his head is demanded on a platter. “Fans” want results now. This instant. And when they don’t get what they want, they become belligerent, delusional maniacs, actually thinking they could do a better job. My brother-in-law made a great point in stating our little league system has become a training ground for these idiots. Sad, really. They go from belittling their 7-year-old and his/her grade school opponents, to throwing beer at opposing fans at professional sporting events, or better yet, booing their own teams.

It’s beyond pathetic.

I admit I’m not a Packer fan and confess to truly disliking Aaron Rodgers, especially when he does his stupid “championship belt” move in the end zone. And those who know me know I’m not a fan of Brett Favre. But my “hate” is more tongue in cheek. Sure, I may yell things at my television in the privacy of my own home, but I would never question them at their job. It’s not my place. I never played football. I never will. It seems those who are quick to judge, quick to hate, are forgetting something.

We’re just fans. Yes, we can be a little obsessive. A little nutty. But we love the game. We love our teams. Some of us wished we’d played. Others live vicariously through their teams and players. But most of us just love the competition, the sportsmanship, the energy of it all. For two or three hours, maybe once or twice a week (depending on the sport of choice) we can lose ourselves, forget the worries of life, let loose, have fun. And even when the outcome is that of Sunday, a loss in the NFC championship against your biggest rival, it’s okay. Because for four and half months, I donned my team colors and cheered. And cheered. And loved every moment.

I almost feel sorry for those who are missing out, who spend more time criticizing their supposed favorite teams than encouraging and supporting them. Who seem to get more enjoyment from screaming obscenities at players and other fans, than appreciating talent and loyalty. I guess the loss is truly theirs.

For me, football season is over but I have so much to look forward to come this fall. And it’s only six months away. Until then, I’ll follow my Shox, dust off my Bulls horns, and get my preliminary brackets ready. Oh, and baseball is just weeks away.