Go figure. The first game following my declaration of Chicago Bears fandom they start playing like complete nincompoops. Rookie quarterback Matt Leinart and the Cardinals are shredding the much-ballyhooed Bears defense and Chicago quarterback Rex Grossman seems to be as concerned with giving the ball to Arizona defenders as he is his own teammates (he threw four interceptions and fumbled twice — an embarrassing a performance QB I’ve ever seen, and that says a lot coming from a Iowa Hawkeye fan.)

By halftime the Cardinals had a convincing 20-0 lead that appeared to be one the Bears would not be able to overcome. (Hell, they had something like two first downs in the entire first half!)

I remember thinking to myself “This is typical, the minute I start paying attention to them they begin to epically suck.”

After tuning into part of the second half I see only minor improvement (they kicked a field goal and scored a touchdown on a cheap interception return) so I turned the TV off when a girl from home called and went to my room to chat with her.

At one point about a half hour into the conversation I specifically remember her asking me if I wanted to get back to the watching the game, but since I enjoy talking to this particular women more than I enjoy watching pro football, I told her it was a blowout and that I wasn’t missing much.

I am a fool.

What I wound up missing was arguably one of the best Monday Night Football comebacks in the history of the program, and what was positively the most exciting and dubious Bears comeback on Monday Night Football ever.

For me it was the equivalent of the famous “Heidi Game,” a 1968 Monday Night showdown between the Jets and the Raiders in which NBC decided (with the Raiders down by 13 points and only 65 seconds left) to cut from the live broadcast to the made-for-TV version the classic movie “Heidi.” Except instead of watching an orphan girl prance through the mountains of Switzerland while the Raiders mounted a miraculous 14-point comeback, I was on the phone with the lovely girl I was dating before I moved to Chicago.

The second I hung up with her I waltzed out to the living room and turned on the tube to see what the final damage was, only to notice that the Bears had returned a punt for touchdown with two minutes left that sealed their improbable victory.

“HOLY FUCKING SHIT, THEY WON!” I scream at my roommate, who is, oddly enough, in his room talking to a woman from Omaha as well.

“No way!” He says and rushes out and stands and watches the replay of the go-ahead score on TV, telling the girl from Omaha to “hang on a second” as he puts the phone to his side and stands in bewilderment. (He had joined me on the Bears Bandwagon this week).

“Jesus, maybe we should go back to not caring about them, as they seem to do much better when we’re not paying any attention to them,” I said.

“No shit,” he replied.

So I’m faced with three options with this Bears team: I can either go-ahead with my full-fledged and obvious support (which, based on this week’s results, means they will likely blow the rest of the season and fail to make the playoffs), I can denounce the Bears and stay a Raider fan (a situation that has virtually no benefits) or I can secretly admire the team from afar (which means they’ll continue to dominate at their current rate and win the Super Bowl, though I will not be able to show any emotion or support along the way.)

Never before has a closet looked so glorious.