There are many things, I would say, that have attributed to my fascination with college and pro football (especially an organization known as “Da Bears”). First of all it has to do with where I was born and raised. Since I live in a suburb of Chicago I really only had two choices, be a Bears fan, or the inverse of that, a Packers fan. Being a non-fan was not an option for anyone growing up there or else you would be labeled as a loser. Being my fathers son, I naturally chose the Bears. Spending countless Sunday afternoons lounging in front of the TV with my friends watching A-Train (old Chicago running back) run over someone, or Brian Urlacher blind-side the quarterback, igniting the crowd, I could not get enough football. To us, our football team was not just our team, but us, our town, our community. It was modern day gladiator, us against them, full out war.

Now when I watch football, the crack of the pads, the first kick, the excitement while the ball is in the air, brings back such nostalgia that I feel almost obligated to have to watch every Bears game. Every hit the Bears take, I feel like I am hit, yet every touchdown I feel that I am part of and that it only happened because I am supporting them (by watching them on TV). I would almost feel like I was betraying part of my past if I did not honor the routine of watching “the Game”.