Happy?

I call them Justinites. Have since spring. They're the folk who have alternately clamored, begged, whined and demanded that Justin Fields start as quarterback for the Chicago Bears since the day he was drafted.

They are the folk who ran roughshod over the considered acquisition of respected veteran quarterback Andy Dalton, treating him like sewage in the process.

What they lack in things like perspective and understanding they make up for in volume and persistence. Without a shred of evidence to back their perspective, they relentlessly push their witless agenda.

They remind me of the folk who back a certain ex-president: noisy and stupid.

This shouldn't be construed as a rip in any way, shape or form of Justin Fields. Hell, I feel sorry for the guy. He's a young man forced to shoulder the unconsidered expectations of a delusional and desperate fanbase thirsting for a messiah.

And Fields is their mirage. A mirage of NFL contention and Super Bowl trophies.

Amidst their delusions, the Justinites ignore the realities of the unproven coach. The pathetic offensive line. And this weird sense of voodoo that hovers over the team and prevents them from ever enjoying a functional offense.

Building a football team is tough. I get it. Whereas other major sports field teams ranging from five to nine players, football has eleven—just on offense. There's another eleven on defense. Plus kickers. And holders. And punt returners and kick-off returners and special teams and....

That's a lot of personnel to assemble. And manage. Contracts to juggle. And beyond that, one has to make sure they're fairly compatible, healthy and, of course, talented. What's more, ideally the offense and the defense are being constructed simultaneously.

Whew. Can I take a break now?

Via Dalton's banged-up knee, the Justinites got their wish yesterday. Their savior would start an NFL game. Can we just skip the rest of the season and anoint the Bears as Super Bowl champions please?

There were just a few problems. The offensive line still sucked. (You saw Myles Garrett and Jadeveon Clowney objectify the Bears' line and turn them into turnstiles, right?)

And Matt Nagy was still calling plays. Hired as an offensive whiz kid, he continually bungled the play-calling and failed to make any useful adjustments, piloting this creaking, wheezing car into a swamp of ineptness.

Overlooked in the carnage is that young Fields, effectively playing behind a sheet of Kleenex, wasn't injured in any of the nine sacks he endured.

(It's a minor miracle, really.)

He may one day be a fine NFL quarterback. Fine as in Ryan Tannehill or fine as in Patrick Mahomes. No one knows for sure.

What is known is that the Bears aren't getting any better. Yeah, they've had some bad luck. But gifted with a fourth season as coach, it's becoming increasingly clear Nagy is merely the Bears' latest example of the Peter Principle.

And you Justinites? A quarterback does not a team make.