Lincicome: Yes, Justin Fields beats expectations - low ones

The obligation to excuse Justin Fields persists in spite of an eight-game losing streak, a quarterback rating somewhere in the pile of used laundry and history's harsh review of second-year quarterbacks.

In baseball a popular trope is the "sophomore jinx," or as Ozzie Guillen once quizzed me, "What is a 'summer jintz'?" Whatever the name, it does not exist in football. A rookie year is meant to be improved upon, and if it is not, well, there may not be a third year, which I guess would be called a "junior adieu."

In the case of Fields, his rookie year was so gawdawful (nine sacks in his first game?) that he could only get better, and he has, though like the magician's assistant in net stockings, he guides the eye away from where fools are tricked.

The Bears have needs like an inch worm has feet, though getting rid of the heart of the defense was of no benefit to anyone not wearing a salary cap, not to mention being vague and toxic, alerting all that winning was somewhere down the to-do list.

This left Fields to save the Bears' respectability, if not always himself, progressing not in the position he is supposed to be playing but as some sort of hybrid irritant and occasional whiz kid.

As the daring young man who can outrun linebackers and dodge groping defenders, Fields has established an unfortunate identity as faultless, tomorrow's promise needing just a little more tuning, another snap or two before it all comes together.

And if it doesn't? The Bears have been here before and will be again, living with decisions that will be unmade without apology.

Take, for example, the second season of the unlamented Mitch Trubisky, a Pro Bowl pick that year, leading a 12-4 Bears team into the playoffs for the first of two times, with honest quarterback statistics like yards passing and touchdowns. Tomorrow was kissing the Bears on the mouth.

As is confirmed by time and talent, it did not work out that way. But compared to where Fields is now, Trubisky looks like a first responder while Fields remains a traffic warden.

Or, take greater examples than Trubisky for second-year success, maybe the most prominent being Tom Brady, Super Bowl winner and career legend, as well as Ben Roethlisberger and Russell Wilson, all sophomore champions, and more recently Patrick Mahomes, ignored in the draft by the Bears for Trubisky.

Dan Marino lost the Super Bowl in his second year and never returned, Bret Favre was in the Pro Bowl, Eli Manning and John Elway revived teams to division titles. Lamar Jackson, the better version of Fields, was MVP on a 14-2 team.

For Fields titles are incidental. Every game is "a learning opportunity," according to Fields when the learning should already be done.

The beauty of low expectations is that when expectations are reached they appear so much higher, so when Matt Eberflus seems indignant to keeping Fields out of harm's way, that has to be read as "he needs more work."

"We want to finish strong," Eberflus insists, convincing no one. "There's a lot of development to do, a lot of things to look at."

The Bears are typical, a few up-and-comers and a bunch of soon to be goners, wannabes and used-to-be's.

For some reason, unlike sitcoms and gymnastics, youth is not considered an advantage in professional football.

The assumption that youth needs only experience assumes that the youth is good youth, whereas with the Bears, as the box emptied, the Bears were forced to fill it with Bubble Wrap. And some of that is gone, too, leaving only the bubble without the wrap.

As a season has dried like spilt milk, made of parts luck (mostly bad), deeds and misdeeds, there was always the notion that it matters less now than tomorrow. This is what a young team does - plays well, plays poorly, takes the blows, gets the scars, and one day soon it will turn into the Bears again, the '85 Bears.

There they are, Fields in front, the Bears' players, coaches and suits waiting for the hard-earned back pat. Good job. Considering. Nah, not really.