The Bears are in the Super Bowl! The Bears are in the Super Bowl!
What?
You’re going?
Take me. Take me, please. I’m begging you. I won’t eat. I won’t talk. I won’t breathe much. I won’t take up too much space, just fold me up and stuff me in the trunk. If I can get bottled water from time to time that would be great, but not necessary. I’m a camel when I need to be. And don’t worry about potty breaks. I once went an entire Cubs game without a trip to the bathroom-so the emergency room doc said.
Oh, you won’t take a complete stranger for free to the biggest sporting event of the year? OK, I can accept that, but how about a compromise then? You go. I stay-in the physical sense. I go with you, side-by-side, like lifelong buddies-with matching Urlacher jerseys-in the spiritual sense.
Let me live it with you, through you. You know, like a 40-year-old married man lives vicariously through Tom Brady (No Super Bowl this time, but there’s always supermodels). Better yet, let us live it with you!
I’ll tell you what, if you allow Oak Park and River Forest residents to enjoy the experience of the Bears in the Super Bowl firsthand, I’ll make it worth your while. You do this good deed, and I’ll put your name in the paper, even a photo. That’s right, I’ll make you famous.
What? I in no way can make that happen?
Did I say famous? I meant I’ll make you infamous!
A threat? No no no, you misunderstood. There’s no need to call a lawyer, good buddy old pal. I was just kidding. I admit I got a little desperate there, but work with me.
Just tell me who’s going to Miami to lounge on the beach, drink frozen concoctions, and root for the Bears to beat the Colts. I want to know. The readers of this great publication want to know, and it’s not so we can break into your house, eat your popcorn and watch the game on your new 64-inch plasma TV (but we are available for house-sitting).
We need to know who is going to be representing the villages of Oak Park or River Forest at Super Bowl XLI. We need to know if Frank from the 800 block of Kenilworth will be there fully adorned in nothing but boxer shorts and burnt orange paint; if Marcy, who volunteers at the Y, will wear her Bear-skin with the growling fangs; if Tom, who spends too much time at Tasty Dog, will be sweating off 20 pounds rooting for his beloved football team.
So please, call me (613-3319), e-mail me (bspencer@wjinc.com), write me (141 S. Oak Park Ave.), text me, smack me, do anything you want to get my attention (strip-o-grams are not entirely out of the question) if you’re going. I want to know all about it, before, after and during (but don’t you dare call during the game!).
Let us live this with you, through you.
Be our portal to the Super Bowl. How about it?
Contact: bspencer@wjinc.com