Lincicome: Looking for silver linings with the Bears? Nothing to see here
Clouds have silver linings when there is a hint of sunshine peeking through, so to apply that remedy to the Bears is more wish than reality.
"It is what it is," said David Montgomery, not for the first time nor I expect for the last.
Montgomery is, you see, that bit of brightness, full of purpose and promise, the speck of light at the end of a very dark tunnel, to thoroughly mix a metaphor.
This is what it is here in the dark December of the Bears discontent, made no brighter by hope nor assurance, bleak as the season, soggy as a pile of wet socks.
As for the rest of the Bears, the players, the coaches, those who generally manage things, they could all use road maps and Realtors, the sooner the better. And it is not going to get any better.
This must be true for all but the versatile Montgomery, possibly Robert Quinn, defender of merit, and that sidelined error, Justin Fields, safe from display for now.
The Bears are stuck among the afterthoughts, nowhere to go but to work, which is the least of their obligations. Can't go up. Green Bay awaits. And the Vikings twice. Not down. Detroit is hugging the cellar as if treasure is buried there.
The neighborhood is familiar but maybe never quite this derelict.
It took a week of turmoil around the immediate future of Nagy to rally his team around him, to somehow manage to win on a late field goal against Detroit. While this probably did not beat the worst team in football, it might have helped to beat the best one.
Maybe the thing to do to rally the Bears against the Packers will be to have them fret over their coach's future, when, of course, all any of them fret about is their own.
Arizona has tomorrows while the Bears have only yesterdays, most of them in another century.
"Only thing we can do is keep fighting and stick together," Nagy said. "Give it everything we've got."
It must be assumed the Bears have been doing just that. If they have more to give and have not given it, refunds are demanded. It can't be any more enjoyable for the Bears trying to explain why they are gawdawful than it is for us watching them being ... well, gawdawful.
"There won't be any moping around," said Montgomery.
Give them this, the Bears have their own style. What other team needs to resort to walkie-talkies to communicate among three people? I can do that with my watch.
"As dark as it may seem," said Montgomery, "you've got to understand that it's a game. Everybody doesn't get to do this."
Sometimes it looks like somebody else is doing it.
"Our guys understand," Nagy said. "They know what's going on."
Do they? Maybe it's those walkie-talkies. Sometimes they muddle.
It is not as if winning is hidden like an Easter egg or like a lost sock in the dryer. The Cardinals did not have to find victory, it ran right up and stuck its tongue out.
"Dang, man, those turnovers got us," Nagy said.
Three of Andy Dalton's four interceptions were probably not his fault, but blame is not the issue here. Inevitability is the issue. Here is what we know about these Bears. Something bad is going to happen. Sooner or later. Usually sooner.
"Who knows what's going to happen?" asked Dalton.
If I might answer that. What's going to happen is Nagy and Ryan Pace will be fired. A new coach and general manager will introduce themselves to each other. At least half the Bears now will be gone. Another veteran quarterback will be hired to replace Dalton and Nick Foles while the Bears suffer another season of illusion with Fields. Montgomery will waste the best years of his career propping up fools. The Bears will take another three years to realize nothing is working the way it was supposed to and then they will start all over again.
It is what it is. And this is what it is. The Bears must know it. We know it. The opponent knows it.
The Bears are Joe Btfsplk, a cartoon character of yore who walked around with a black cloud raining on his head. No silver lining there. Not ever.