Da Bust.

Thus endeth football season for the Monsters of the Midway and their long-suffering fans, including me. Rain, smudged camera work, and the same infuriating Rex Grossman we had to deal with all year. I took the 12-inch bear logo off of my car, the Bearsmobile, and stuck it on the garage fridge. I'm still going to wear my Bears surgical cap to the O.R. tomorrow, in a meaningless display of defiant and pathetic loyalty.

Living in Tampa I am surrounded by Tony Dungy fans. They thought he was shafted by the Glasers when they fired him and brought on John Gruden, who has since gone on to fritter away the talent of the Bucs to their current level of morbidity. Dungy is a nice man and a great coach and I can't begrudge him this Superbowl, but come on: I am a Bears fan.

The best offense in the NFL thoroughly dominated the best defense in the NFL. Urlacher and the boys played tentative ball; they set up way back and seemed to fear the aerial game in the treacherous footing. When Train Rex got the ball, he either played it safe and gave it away for a run, or he threw those short sideline pussy passes, or he strapped on the balls to throw long passes behind his receivers and into the hands of the Colts D.

Get rid of Rex. He is too inconsistent and shows no sign of growing out of it. Time's up.