Southern California quarterback Caleb Williams celebrates after being chosen by the Bears with the first overall pick in the 2024 NFL Draft.
AP
So, let me get this straight. The Bears are going to play offense. On purpose. Whiz bang, down the field, pass catching, pass throwing offense.
The Bears are joining the modern NFL after all these years of body banging, knuckle dragging, head knocking football, playing like they do up in Green Bay or out in Kansas City or how they used to do it in New England; you know, sissy ball.
This is going to take a moment. You can’t just spring this on unsuspecting innocents, those of us who know Bears football when we see it. We see Walter running the ball or Butkus clobbering whoever is in front of him, or Ditka looking for somebody to hit before he looks for a ball to catch, maybe even Justin knowing that he can run better than he can throw. Run, run as fast as you can, you can’t catch me, I’m from Ohio State.
We are to believe that now the Bears have an honest-to-gosh quarterback and glue-finger, fast-feet receivers and all those pieces that need coordination and schemes and special attention. Good luck and good night.
The Bears have never needed a quarterback, never wanted one, never found one. Oh, sure, somebody must hand the ball off or occasionally toss it around; that’s why the world has the Brian Hoyers and the Mike Glennons, but Bear Ball is what it is, always has been, and there is a long line of playoff avoidance to prove it.
No one is fooled by this present foray into modern times. We shall allow this, what to call it? This latest quarterback honeymoon. Having mated publicly, the Bears and Caleb Williams are linked until life do them part, usually three seasons or so, but for now the flowers are fresh, the cake is uncut and the guests are grinning.
This is not a first for the Bears, of course, the perpetual groom. As for Williams, well, like Justin Fields and Mitch Trubisky before him, he will always have the ceremony.
Not to torture this metaphor further, but this does seem more elaborate than usual, not only from inside the Bears but from outside as well, the general agreement being that Williams is real, the Bears are wise and the playoffs are possible.
People who do this for a living are fooled, former players are advised, fans are duped. Honest chit chat speaks of a rookie throwing for 4,000 yards. Step right up. Guess which nut has the pea.
This all has to do with the assumption that the Bears have a genuine quarterback, and they know how to use him. Franchise history is not a great supporter of this notion.
How Williams became the savior the Bears have been missing since the search began (somewhere after Jim McMahon, I guess) is not entirely clear. Williams had one exceptional year in college, not the most recent one, but enough film highlights to support all endorsements.
Fields, as I recall, had as good college credentials, save a Heisman, and offered as great a promise as hype can produce. We soon forget the enthusiasm for Fields, some of which still lingers. Fields’ failure has several fathers, not the least of which was coaching confusion, and Fields’ own flaws, inadequate passer being the greatest.
Still, there was no great call for the Bears to get another quarterback and had they not chanced into the top draft pick, it is likely Fields would still be a Bear.
But there Williams was, the Consensus One, admired by all, so tempting that the Bears avoided their usual draft day fidgeting, kept the pick and turned tomorrow over to the next Peyton Manning, or something like that.
More audaciously the Bears filled in key offensive blanks, drafting receiver Rome Odunza, acquiring receiver Keenan Allen to add to DJ Moore and tight end Cole Kmet, daring Williams to misuse the best bunch of pass catchers since the Patriots were in their prime.
We now wait to see what the new offensive coordinator (always an oxymoron with the Bears) Shane Waldron will do with all of this, but whatever it is, it will not be familiar.