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O’Donnell: Bears now have to weigh Halas legacy, value of Kevin Warren

IF THE MASTERS OF THE CHICAGO BEARS EMERGED FROM the midnight fog of Springfield as clear-headed, hard-edged business people, their next move is a 20-mile chip shot.

That would be the announcement that they will indeed be taking advantage of the tax-paying sheep of Indiana and building a new stadium near Wolf Lake.

Audio of the Hoosier braying must be playing on a loop inside of Halas Hall.

The stinky Hammond wasteland is 20 miles from Soldier Field, the inconvenient edifice where the Bears retain a lease to play for seven more seasons, through 2032.

IN PRESTIGE AND ATMOSPHERE, the Wolf Lake wetlands are 20,000 leagues below the potentially sweeping aesthetic of a reimagined Arlington Park.

It's no contest, like comparing steamed swill to properly seared Wagyu beef.

But from a contemporary National Football League point of view, such a move ain't no big thing.

In fact, of the nation's four largest metro areas — New York, Los Angeles, Chicago and Houston — only Beardom hasn't been impacted by some business-driven interstate shuffling in the past 50 years.

THAT BIG-HAUL ITINERARY includes:

· The Giants and Jets from NYC to New Jersey (NYG in 1976, NYJ following in 1984);

· The nomadic Rams — originally the Cleveland Rams until 1946 — from Los Angeles to St. Louis (1995) and then back to L.A. (2016), to be joined by the up-coasting Chargers from San Diego (2017); and,

· Bud Adams' original Oilers from Houston to Nashville (1997), rebranded as the Tennessee Titans, and the expansion Houston Texans drilled into existence starting in 1999.

So what sacred screed says the Chicago Bears are immune?

THE FULL LESSON OF THE CULMINATING LOST WEEKEND in Springfield is that a state government has to take a long look at itself and so does the one NFL franchise under those official money-driven whims.

No. 1 isn't going to happen.

The idea of any significant fresh transparencies and revamps suddenly enveloping the Illinois political ecosystem is less likely than JB Pritzker announcing that he's endorsing Darren Bailey for governor.

ABOUT THE BEARS, a recurring existential question that still must swirl around some McCaskey minds is:

What would George Halas do at this juncture?

Would he pursue an uphill battle in Illinois with no certainties whatsoever other than cynical ownership of 326 choice acres in Arlington Heights or a softly golden landing in a blow-through region where steel mills and Jeppson's Malort once ruled?

THE PAPA BEAR — far too frequently aware of the perils of annual profit/loss statements during the team's initial four decades — would go for the gold.

Red Grange, like Timothy Leary, is dead. Illinois politicians have forgotten how the Bears once thrilled the nation. Super Bowl XX is only a pleasant memory now, as relevant as a racy Betamax video cassette.

George McCaskey, in a statement for the ages that reeks more of reality than snark, about the possible move to Indiana, said: “(The fans) will get used to it.”

Unfortunately, what Bears fans are already far too “used to” is implosive confusion and hare-brained detours in the executive wing at 1920 Football Drive, Lake Forest, IL.

WAY BACK IN SEPTEMBER 2022, McCaskey, Ted Phillips — the team's benign but seasoned president — and radio caller Jeff Joniak were the featured players of a town hall-style meeting at Hersey High School in Arlington Heights.

Excitement was in the air. The purchase agreement with Churchill Downs Inc. — a long story for another day, with a whole lot of backstage intrigue — was one year old. The path forward for the organization to Northwest suburban stadium fulfillment appeared gilded and certain:

Enter as good new neighbors. Bring in sophisticated, convincing adjuncts who would detail critical matters such as infrastructure costs regardless of what was built on the AP land. Game through imaging implications of any sort of taxpayer “asks.”

PROCEED WITH VIGOR AND AS MUCH OPENNESS as the traffic would allow, along with senses of both community and manifest destiny.

Instead, Phillips retired. Out of nowhere, Kevin Warren, with no consensus to be retained as commissioner of the Big Ten, was hired.

Topping Warren's resume was the myth, lore and scattered facts attendant to what he did or didn't do to get the Vikings a new stadium in Minneapolis.

WITH THE BEARS, he has conclusively proven to be the wrong man for the job.

The grand payoff from the addition of Warren as “stadium whisperer” came in the hollow Monday morning amid the emptying chambers of the Illinois Capitol.

His “push” has leveraged the team away from Arlington Heights and into the environmentally intriguing wetlands of Wolf Lake.

BUT THERE'S ONE CERTAINTY that Warren and the McCaskey Bears can now embrace, and it's far from property taxes and megaproject legislation:

They are fourth-and-20 from Arlington Park.

And only a chip shot away from the swill and industrial wasteland awaiting them with open paws in Hammond.

Jim O'Donnell's Sports and Media column appears each week on Sunday and Wednesday. Reach him at jimodonnelldh@yahoo.com. All communications may be considered for publication.