Al de Leon

One of my most vivid childhood memories is of the Chicago Bears' dream season in 1985. It wasn't just about watching them crush the Patriots in Super Bowl XX; it had more to do with the feeling that you were joining hands with the entire city of Chicago to be a part of something special. I knew the lyrics to the musically questionable "Super Bowl Shuffle" by heart, and I ate more Big Macs than I care to remember while trying to track down the entire collection of Bears trading cards from McDonald's. In the two decades since that season, the Bears haven't done much, but my heart has continued to bleed blue and orange, even after I moved to San Francisco more than two years ago.

That's why the Bears' return to the promised land Sunday hurts as much as it brings me back to those great memories. While Chicagoans once again band together, shoulders broadened, to root proudly for the Bears in Super Bowl XLI, I can only cheer from afar. The Super Bowl fever that's gripped Chicago like a heat wave in July is barely registering on the thermometer in San Francisco. The WGN Superstation has revealed glimpses of Bears hysteria on their nightly newscasts, when the network isn't running repeats of "Sex in the City." Sure, the Super Bowl is always big news throughout the country, but from outside Chicago (and Indianapolis, I'd guess), it's more like the back of the features section and not the front page. It doesn't help that in San Francisco, the arts, the outdoors and the food are just as important as the sports teams. Sports fans here certainly aren't the worst in the world--they're far better than their neighbors to the south in L.A., who show up in the second quarter and leave before the fourth. But the City by the Bay can't even keep its football team from straying, as the 49ers have threatened to move nearly fifty miles away to Santa Clara.

Chicago is a sports town in the truest sense. You can find several good sports bars in just about any neighborhood within walking distance of each other. Decent sports bars in San Francisco are few and far between, and they serve steamed mussels and goat-cheese salads instead of Polish sausage and cheese fries.

So instead of suffering through the Super Bowl at a San Francisco pub with people who will probably pay more attention to the ads than the game, I'm hosting my own Chicago-style Super Bowl party. It'll be decked out in as much navy and orange as possible--those leftover Halloween napkins will finally come in handy. Thank God I still own a VCR because the pre-game warm-up will consist of viewings of the "Super Bowl Shuffle" video on VHS. To help my guests get in the mood, the menu will include deep-dish pizza (no, it's not true Chicago-style, but it's a decent attempt from San Francisco's Little Star Pizza, despite the who-knows-what-they-were-thinking cornmeal crust); Vienna beef hotdogs (no ketchup allowed); and cans of Old Style (sure it's technically from Wisconsin, but that hasn't stopped the Cubs from pimping it). Some of my guests have lived in Chicago, so the artery-clogging cuisine won't come as a shocker. The rest of them might be disappointed that I'm not serving any clam chowder in sourdough bread bowls.

Everyone who's invited is required to root for the Bears. If I can get my hands on enough Bears hats and t-shirts, I'll make them suit up upon arrival. At the very least, I'm requesting that they dress in winter clothes in honor of Chicago's weather. Note that the forecast for San Francisco on Sunday calls for party sunny skies and temperatures in the low 60s. Hell, I might even request that all the guys grow mustaches a la Ditka in '85.

Call me deluded for thinking that any of this will have any impact on the game 3,000 miles away in Miami, but it's how I'm dealing with my long-distance relationship with the Bears. I don't care what Tony Bennett sang about San Francisco--I left my heart in Chicago.

(2007-01-30)

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