“GOOD, BETTER, BEST! NEVER LET IT REST! UNTIL YOUR GOOD GETS BETTER! AND YOUR BETTER GETS BEST!”
Following the Chicago Bears’ 27-7 win over the Philadelphia Eagles last night, head coach Ben Johnson ended his locker room speech the way he does after wins: by leading the whole team in an intense call-and-response.
I love it. It rules. It gets me pumped up and makes me want to run through a brick wall whenever I see a new version of it. Hell yeah. And sure, I admit that “never let it rest” probably shouldn’t be taken literally by me, a person who spends most of the day in bed and will for at least a few more weeks. But you get the gist.
Anyway, as I’ve been trying to steer clear of politics for a little bit (hey, this newsletter is technically in the “Culture” section, not “Politics,” so I’m giving myself permission to veer a bit outside my regular coverage), I decided that today’s newsletter would be about me, Da Bears, repeatedly hearing that a quarterback who is two years younger than me is basically ancient, and how I can try to piece myself back together.
I’m definitely not “better.” And oh boy, am I not “best.” I’m stuck in bed, mentally and physically wiped, and I’m much less “good” than I was a few weeks ago. I’m trying to hold on to some hope that I’ll get “better.” As for “best?” Let’s not get carried away. One step at a time, okay?
But still, watching the game last night gave me a little bit of a lift.
Some context, if you missed it: on September 14, I had a transition-related surgery. The run-up to and recovery from the surgery have been harder than I’d hoped, and it’s only going as smoothly as it is because my wonderful, perfect wife, Kayla, is being her wonderful, perfect self, taking care of me. You can read more about some of that in my last post (”Trainwreck“). And right now, I’m just trying to avoid another round of what I’ve jokingly called “brain camp.”
At my most recent therapy session, we talked about how politics, trans rights, and self-preservation as it concerns those two things, have essentially become areas of intense hyperfocus for me. I find myself existing in a state of hypervigilance, always on the lookout for the next disaster. It’s unhealthy, and it would be helpful if I could find ways to take my mind off of that for at least a little bit. The goal has been to avoid letting myself get sucked into rabbit holes of terror and instead aim my attention at less consequential, lighter things. Things that aren’t self-destructive. Things I enjoy. Things that make me feel good.
So please indulge me while I tell you a little bit about last night’s Bears game.
It had been exactly two weeks since my surgery. I was propped up in bed, watching the game on the local ABC station with my dogs Tater Tot and Casserole. I didn’t have high hopes for my beloved Bears after superstar quarterback Caleb Williams went down with a hamstring strain during last week’s game. And when it was announced that they’d be going with career backup Case Keenum in his place, I’d already accepted that the Bears were going to get absolutely trounced. The Eagles were undefeated, and the Bears were 3.5-point underdogs. Still, what else was I going to do on a Monday night?
Case Keenum isn’t a particularly great NFL quarterback, which makes all of this so much cooler
At least not in the context of his entire career. But he sure has a lot of heart, and he has a real knack for coming up big in big moments.
The “elderly” Keenum, 38 (still two years younger than me, lol), has been bouncing around the NFL since going undrafted in 2012 out of the University of Houston. For most of his career, he’s been a perfectly serviceable, average journeyman quarterback. But he’s also the guy who threw the Minneapolis Miracle. Playing for the Vikings during a 2018 playoff game, down by a point to the Saints with 10 seconds left, Keenum connected with Stefon Diggs for a game-winning 61-yard touchdown, propelling the Vikings to victory as time ran out.
In the spring of 2025, Keenum was fresh off of a knee surgery and ready to retire when newly hired Bears coach Ben Johnson called up the veteran quarterback and asked him to sign on to help mentor Caleb Williams, the number one pick in the 2024 draft. When it comes to third-string quarterbacks, the odds of ever actually getting a chance to play are pretty slim. He wasn’t there to lead the team down the field, but to act as a sort of player-coach to Williams. This piece at The Athletic about all of this is a great read filled with wholesome anecdotes about the relationship between Keenum, Williams, and Johnson.
But with Williams out for a few weeks with an injury and second-string QB Tyson Bagent spending most of the week out of practice in the concussion protocol, Keenum was called upon to prove he still had it in him. And oh wow, did he ever. He connected on 24 of 34 passes for 247 yards and two touchdowns. He also scored a rushing touchdown from the 1-yard line, his first in seven years. It was awesome. Please check out these highlights. Please check out his pre- and post-game interviews. It’s great stuff. I love it.
For the first time ever, his kids got to watch him play in person. It’s just so cool that he got the chance to ball out in front of his family like that. And if this is his last ever NFL start (it’s not yet clear whether he’ll start next week or if Johnson will go with Bagent until Williams is healthy), it’s about as perfect an end to his career as he could have possibly hoped for, doing it all in front of a national audience on Monday Night Football. It was a feel-good moment, and it’s the exact kind of thing that makes me love sports. I love that for him.
Happiness?
The other day, I was having a conversation with someone who asked me what makes me happy. And I was (and remain) a bit stumped by the question, because I really, truly don’t know. There are a lot of things that I like. I like watching movies. I like watching sports. I like playing video games. I like listening to music. I (sometimes) like writing. But am I actually happy? That’s a tough one. Happiness just isn’t an emotion I’m super familiar with, and it hasn’t been for a long time.
So it was kind of nice to just chill out in bed and do something normal like watching a football game. I even caught myself smiling a few times during the evening, watching Keenum tear it up on the field. Importantly, I wasn’t consumed by negative thoughts — fear, anxiety, sadness, etc. (Sports does this for me every once in a while.1) I may be grading a bit on a curve, but I’ll take it.
After the game, Keenum said to reporters that he spent the week putting in 14- to 16-hour days to put himself in the best possible position to make the most of what could be his final opportunity to play meaningful football. “Barely saw the wife and kids,” he said. “Studied film. Grinding. I had my phone on ‘Do Not Disturb’ for all my friends.” Only his wife and Johnson could call or text him during the week. “I’ll let you guess who called more,” he said.
And that’s kind of how I feel right now. I’ve got to lock in on the things that are important to me. I need to put myself in the best possible position to avoid complications with my surgical recovery and to piece together my fractured mental health. So that’s why you probably won’t be seeing much of me on social media for the foreseeable future. At least not on X or Bluesky, which is where I feel I’ve struggled to hold myself together the most. Both accounts still exist, but they’re parked (X is set to private again), and I’m logged out of both on my phone and my laptop. I may be a bit less accessible than I have been in the past, but I’m sure you can find me if you need me.
The best sports moment I’ve ever witnessed in person happened at Wrigley Field on August 12, 2018. Nationals pitcher Sean Doolittle (an excellent human being) got us tickets, and they were the best seats I’d ever sat in. The Cubs were down 3-0 with two outs in the bottom of the ninth when David Bote, a rookie pinch-hitter, took a 2-2 pitch from Ryan Madson over the center-field wall for a walk-off grand slam. Cubs win, 4-3. (Sorry, Sean.) As Wrigley shook with the roar of the crowd, my friend Kit, who was in town visiting us, turned to me and said something to the effect of “DOES THIS HAPPEN A LOT?” And no! It never does!