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By Brad Spencer
There are good ideas. For example, the calendar, the clock, the umbrella, shoes, clothes, toothpaste and soap were all good ideas. There are also bad ideas. For example, slavery, segregation, prohibition, Snakes on a Plane, and asbestos were all bad ideas.
The Super Bowl in Chicago is a good idea.
You don't need to be Tom Skilling to know that Chicago in February is a frozen wasteland, a cold, miserable place where only gnarled miscreants leer from the shadowy chasms of alleyways.
OK, I'll admit that description is a little harsh. Chicago in February can be described more as a freezing fallout zone, ominous and inhospitable badlands.
The city's bone-chilling gloom, expansive and devastating, destroys even the faintest acts of joy. Smiles don't exist in Chicago in February. Unless you're lucky enough to locate near a fireplace, the cold doom of the dreaded month renders love numb and ultimately useless.
So the Super Bowl in Chicago, which Mayor Rahm Emanuel recently pitched to NFL Commissioner Roger Goodell, is a fantastic idea, is it not?
An estimated 150,000 people would possibly descend on Gotham — oops, I mean Chicago — throwing money into hotels, restaurants, bars and the deep pockets of any corrupt politicians remaining from the previous administration.
And so what if the spacecraft that is Soldier Field is too small, too ridiculously ugly, and too open to Mother Nature's extreme elements. Wouldn't you like to see a real Super Snow Bowl? Wouldn't you like to see a potential game-ending field goal blocked not by Ray Lewis, but by the cold, blustery wind, shearing everything in its path as it drifts wildly off Lake Michigan?
The post-holiday blues will cease with the anticipation of one of America's most viewed television programs being hosted by Chicago. We'd be lucky if a major snowstorm hit just a few hours before the big game. Two, three, or four feet of slushy snow with two, three or four more inches on the way at game time would make for riveting television.
The Super Bowl would bring some life to Chicago. Winter doldrums would be pushed aside for a while. Closing and locking down the hatch would be put on hold.
But for now, the big wait is on. New York gets first dibs in 2014. If no one freezes to death, if the wealthy players don't complain too much, if the Abominable Snowman doesn't appear and eat Tom Brady, Chicago may be next to host the big game.
Every time I think of the possibility that the Super Bowl may be held in Chicago, the chill that rattles my bones contemplating the month of February lessons a bit. And that's a good thing.