A Rivalry Gone Berserk

Sunday Night Football. Prime Time.

Green Bay Packers 41 – Chicago Bears 25.

The score gives the illusion that the game was somewhat close. It was not.

This is not a shocker. With Aaron Rodgers at quarterback, the Packers have won 20 out of 25 games against the Bears.

I have lost many bets against my native Wisconsin in-laws. This has resulted in buying dinners, drinks, and on one occasion, wearing Packer gear. It was horrifying.

So, forgive me Bear fans, but I fell asleep towards the end of the game. After a few beers and a lot of pizza, it was a deep slumber.

I woke to find my laptop on the table by the couch. Thought I had left it on the kitchen table, but it didn’t matter. What did matter was the content on the screen. It looked like I was in the process of writing a column. Wiping my eyes, I glanced at the headline:

“Aaron Rodgers Reveals What the Bears Need”

That was not what got my attention though. The byline read: “by Mike Bertok”.

Wait! I have never spoken to Aaron Rodgers.

“What Aaron Rodgers brings to the table is Aaron Rodgers,” said Aaron Rodgers. “Aaron Rodgers believes that the Bears would need Aaron Rodgers to improve. But the Packers have Aaron Rodgers. The Bears do not have Aaron Rodgers. That’s why the Packers are better. It’s Aaron Rodgers.”

I could not believe what I was reading. I did not remember writing this. And why is Aaron Rodgers talking in the third person?

“Aaron Rodgers speaks in the third person to promote the Aaron Rodgers brand,” said Aaron Rodgers, sitting in my recliner. “Now, waiter, please make Aaron Rodgers a Brandy Old Fashioned.”

Before I could answer, he continued, “Is there a Rex Grossman brand? Cade McNown? Mitch Klubisky?”

“Do you mean Mitch Trubisky?”

He continued, “Or the guy from a few years ago. Jake Utler.”

“That was Jay Cutler,” I murmured.

“Whatever,” he said. “Do you know why Aaron Rodgers makes over thirty million dollars a year? Because Aaron Rodgers deserves it. Do you get special insurance rates? Aaron Rodgers does. Now, where is Aaron Rodgers’ drink?”

Standing up, I noticed he had a large pad of paper, pencil, and appeared to be sketching something. I peered over, assuming he was drawing up potential schemes for his offense.

Much to my surprise, though, it was a pencil portrait of the Golden Girls, near completion. His artistry was spectacular.

“I sure miss these gals,” he sighed.

Then mindlessly, he shoved the pencil into his nostril. A grinding sound ensued, and shavings blew out of his ears. He sheepishly looked up and uttered, “Oops. You weren’t supposed to see that.”

As I tried to make sense of the situation, a blinding light appeared through my picture window. It was moving rapidly towards my house. Within seconds, it smashed through the wall, sending bricks, glass, and drywall everywhere.

As the dust settled, Aaron Rodgers said, “Aaron Rodgers is outta here!”

“Ah shut up and sit down!” boomed a familiar voice.

It was Mike Ditka. He was on a massive, winged stallion. Bare chested, muscles rippling like molded iron, and hair flowing, he wielded a large weapon.

“Step away from Aaron Rodgers!” he ordered.

Aaron Rodgers cowered deep into my recliner and began to cry.

“Really, Aaron Rodgers?” I thought.

Ditka approached him menacingly. He placed his thick, scarred hand on Aaron Rodgers’ head and gripped tightly. With one decisive pull, his face was ripped completely off his scalp.

My unbridled horror was quickly replaced with sheer amazement.

Under the mask of Aaron Rodgers was actress Estelle Getty.

“Step out of the body suit!” ordered Iron Mike, grabbing her by the housecoat.

“So, Aaron Rodgers is really the four-foot, eleven-inch grandma from the Golden Girls?” I laughed.

“Yes,” barked Ditka. “He became the Packers starter in 2008, the same year Estelle Getty allegedly died. This is a conspiracy of the highest order. I’ve been tracking her for years.”

“No quarterback can be this good at this age,” Ditka continued. “The Packers developed a special suit that is operated from the inside, much like Iron Man. It contains unique power capabilities and radar that ejects the referee’s penalty flags when an opponent comes within two feet of him.”

“Okay, but what does Estelle Getty know about calling plays?” I inquired.

“Ah shut up!” He pushed back. “Sorry. Nothing. There is a specialized communication system that gives her instructions and makes her aware of field situations.”

“Who does she talk to?” I asked.

“Henry Winkler. The Waterboy movie was based on fact. He is an offensive genius!” said Mike.

I could not think straight. The 2,000-pound flying horse in my front room did not help.

Suddenly, Estelle Getty jumped up and grabbed Mike Ditka’s hair from behind. It should not have been hard to believe, given what already transpired, but his face came off too.

Beneath the Ditka mask was Thor, the immortal god of Thunder. “Great Odin!” he cried. “You must not reveal my secret. Yes, I am a superhero possessing unimaginable strength, an ancient, flying hammer, and can control lightning. Blah, blah, blah. But I am no Mike Ditka. Da Coach, if I may use this term of regal endearment, is the real hero.”

I felt a gentle shake. Thankfully, it was my wife. We were in bed, safe and snug, with a beautiful sunrise adorning the window.

“You’re talking in your sleep,” she whispered. “I just got bits and pieces, but it sounded like The Fonz tore off Aaron Rodgers’ face and hammered it to the backside of Mike Ditka’s horse. You take the Bears way too seriously.”

She smiled, then unexpectedly removed her mask and nightgown to reveal former Packers quarterback Brett Favre, dressed in full uniform, including helmet and cleats.

“Brett Favre needs coffee,” said Brett Favre.

And the bad dream, or current rivalry, continues…

This column originally appeared in the Times, a Shaw publication.