Remember that show "Who's the Boss?"
Of course you do.
Over the eight seasons it ran, viewers debated whether Tony or Angela was, in fact, the boss. Sure, Angela paid Tony to clean the house. But Tony usually got his way with by using a certain New York charm. We never did learn the boss' identity.
Contrary to popular belief, Mike Martz is not the Bears' boss. Anyone want to take a guess who's in charge?
The answer: Lovie Smith. Remember him?
Even though the Bears are 4-2, they don't look like a first place team. And blame for their weak play falls all over the place: It's Jay Cutler's fault for not throwing to short-range options.
- It's the offensive line's fault for waving red capes in front of charging defensive bulls.
- It's Mike Martz's fault for calling too many passes.
- It's Devin Hester's fault for skipping those elocution lessons with Henry Higgins.
Somehow, Lovie has dodged the blame bullet. He's not in the conversation. It's almost like Mike Martz has taken over the team. David Haugh poses an interesting theory: Maybe Lovie is deferring to Martz because Lovie got his big break as a Martz assistant.
Chicago Bears
Unfortunately, the buck stops with Lovie. What's he doing to fix this mess? If Cutler ends up with a face full of sod every play, maybe we need to bust out a screen pass. How about a draw play? There are ways to lure the defense to the wrong place and to take advantage of that weakness. Right now, we're baiting the hook with our quarterback, then removing the hook and letting the defense swallow him without consequence.
Yes, we're 4-2, but that number could easily be reversed. Calvin Johnson scored that touchdown in Game One, regardless of what the league says. Green Bay's 18 penalties and two turnovers gift-wrapped a victory. And Carolina would lose to most JV teams in Illinois. Has there been a moment this year where you looked at the Bears and said, "Man, we're good"?
It's time for Lovie to man up. He's got to reassert some balance on offense. He's got to find a way to get the ball out of Cutler's hands before he gets tossed into the field like lawn dart. He's got to do something, ANYTHING, to stop the bleeding. Or he can just stand there in a Wayne Fontes haze, watching the Bears stumble around like Elaine Benes on the dance floor.
Dear Lovie, be Tony. Be Angela. Heck, be Mona! Just don't be Jonathan. That kid was useless and most certainly not the boss.
