Ain't no party like a Vag McCaskey partyMore than 24 hours later and intellectually we all know that the Bears…our Bears are headed back to the Super Bowl for the first time since Silver Spoons and Punky Brewster left the airwaves.

We lived through some dark days, you and I. Days when it seemed like a good idea to play PT Willis at quarterback. Days when you thought John Roper had a little Otis Wilson in him (turns out he had a lot more Otis Campbell). Days when you actually cared about what Carlos Huerta’s kicking range was (turns out anything from extra point range and in he was almost a 50-50 prop to make.)

We made it through Ditka’s last dark days. We somehow survived Dave Wannstedt’s attack on our Bear loyalty, and we all liked Dick Jauron, especially the part when he left.

Did it make us tougher or jaded or less trusting? Nah, that’s what the Cubs do. For whatever reason, we never question the sense of our loyalty to the Bears. You wear your Bear fandom like a chip on your shoulder. You wear your Cubs devotion like some sort of enematic protuberance.

It was a long, strange season for the Bears. In the preseason they just didn’t look right. You figured they’d get it together and they did. For seven weeks to start the year, they weren’t just good, they were the best team in the league. A rightful successor to the most storied of all NFL single season juggernauts. Then, they were less than that. Far less than that at times.

Somehow, you figured they could do it.  The NFC was weak, and even at their worst, they were no worse than anybody else in their half of the NFL.  You worried about their erratic, dwarfish quarterback, you know the one who looks like Kirk Hinrich in a stocking cap.  You worried that a truly great defense had lost two of the four guys they just couldn’t lose.  But you had faith.  It might not have been unwavering, but it was there.

Sometime yesterday, probably around the time Bernard Berrian did the Lynn Swann flop and catch, you allowed yourself to let your guard down a little bit.  Then Walleye sacked Drew Brees, dislodged the ball and recovered a fumble.  A few seconds later and Cedric Benson was swan diving into the end zone.

After 21 long years, most of them filled with mind numbing disappointment, the Chicago Bears were going back to the Super Bowl.  You saw on the sidelines with six minutes left the injured Tommie Harris asking Brian Urlacher when they were going to hand out the NFC Championship hats.

You saw a moment I’ll never forget, when Lovie Smith, trying to be calm and stoic walked down the sidelines imploring his kick coverage unit not to let up and give the Saints any hope, only to turn to one of his ace special teams players, Adrian Peterson and see Adrian grinning ear to ear.  Adrian knew he was going to the Super Bowl, and Lovie couldn’t do anything but let his guard down and grin along with him.

The clock ticked down, the NFC Championship arrived and Chauncey the Gardner…I mean, Mike McCaskey loaded his 83 year old mother into a golf cart and drove her to the platform being set up at midfield.  Out of habit, you could see McCaskey looking for stray golf balls he could kick out into the fairway.  Winter rules…of course.

It was a nice moment when the NFL had Tony Dorsett (what?) present her the trophy with her father’s name on it.  You know, it would have been too hard to have asked Dick Butkus, or Gale Sayers, or Tim Worley to do it.  What’s Bam Morris up to these days?  Probably 10-20.

Terry Bradshaw interviewed Urlacher and incredibly his first question was, “How fast is Reggie Bush?”  Urlacher shot the balding hillbilly a dastardly look and said, “Not fast enough.”

It didn’t matter.  The Bears were going to the Super Bowl.  They’re already underdogs, and they figure to get lost in a wash of Peyton Manning features in the next 13 days, and you know what?  It won’t matter.  The Bears will turn every slight into motivation.  They’ll prop up their erratic QB.  They’ll load up their tremendous tailback tandem.  They’ll continue to tweak a defense that arrived anew in the fourth quarter and OT against Seattle and hasn’t let up since.

Between now and then we’ll soak it all in.  The hype and the spectacle of the Super Bowl is overdone and unnecessary, but it’s fun when it’s leading up to your favorite team playing for the world championship.

In our minds we know the Bears are playing for all the marbles.  In our hearts we know they belong.  We’ll just wait for our guts to catch up.

And we’ll try not to upset them with thoughts of Curtis Conway bitching about the cold, or losing a game in Mile High because for whatever reason your hare lipped coach thinks the best bet is to throw a pass to a defensive lineman.

The Bears are what we thought they were.  The best team in the NFC.

In 13 days we’re gonna crown their ass.

And since we know how fleeting these moments can be, and how long you might have to wait for them to come around again, we’re going to enjoy it.

And we’re not going to think about Stan Thomas, Brad Muster, Pat Riley, Todd Sauerbrun, David Terrell, Gary Crowton, Terry Shea, Moses Moreno, Henry Burris, Dustin Lyman or John Allred.

We’ve got a Super Bowl to obsess over.  It’s a welcome change of pace.