About a month ago, I wrote a draft for a column about Jerry Angelo called "The Audacity of Hopelessness."
It never ran. My editors never posted it. Smart people. They knew.
One of the great elements in the dynamics of sports journalism is when someone saves you from yourself. It happens often. More than I (or any other writer) would care to mention. Hindsight in this game can be frightening. Expose the painstakingly guarded hypocrite in all of us.
Look at them now. These Bears. The same team that this time in October was posting a 2-3 record, and had columnists and radio hosts calling for Angelo's head to be neatly placed on the NFL GM guillotine, had this writer taking pride in writing lines such as: "This Bears team -- this year's version, the one that once had our noses open like Rick Perry once had the country, and gave us the audacity to dream -- is who we thought they weren't."
Now that in a four-week span the Bears have gone from "horrible" to arguably "the most feared team" in the NFC -- if not the entire NFL -- why is the praise for Angelo so silent? I can't hear it. Can you?