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Learning To Live With Jay Cutler

| September 14th, 2012

There are a few undeniable facts associated with rooting for a team quarterbacked by Jay Cutler.

On the field he is capable of making both the most spectacular and the silliest throw you’ve ever seen. At times it seems he is capable of completing a pass to quite literally all twenty-one other men on the field. His ability to use his legs to avoid sacks saves him hitting the turf 5-10 times a game and his belief that he can make any throw on the field probably lands him on back just as many times. He has no problem calling out teammates on the sideline for an inability to do their job.

Off the field, he doesn’t give a shit. He doesn’t give a shit what you think or I think. He doesn’t give a shit what Brad Biggs or David Haugh or Sean Jensen thinks. He doesn’t give a shit what Woodson, Waddle, Silvy, Ditka or the ghost of Brian Piccolo think either. He’s smug. He’s arrogant. He thinks he’s smarter than the rest of us, what with his Vanderbilt degree hanging on the wall. Fans want their NFL quarterbacks to spit platitudes and cliches at reporters. Cutler tells the truth and he may be the most transparent player in the NFL. What he allows fans and media members to see they don’t always like.

Cutler’s greatness can not exist without the capacity for evil on display Thursday night. It is the same mind. The same arm. It is not Good Rex/Bad Rex. These are not different men on different days. The Jay Cutler at Lambeau against the Packers was the same man at Soldier Field Sunday against the Colts. If Brandon Marshall and Devin Hester make a couple catches he would have put the Bears in position to win a game in which he threw four picks and was sacked seven times. For Cutler there is a fine, fine line between the interception and touchdown. Not only are either possible each time he cocks back his arm but one gets the sense there is little emotional distinction between them for Cutty.

And wouldn’t I be hypocritical to criticize how Jay handles the media? I have grown over the years to despise 90% of the individuals comprising Chicago media over my seven years operating this here website. If I had to sit in front of them twice a week and listen to their constant inanity I would most likely raise my head to the sky and scream for several minutes. When a writer asks Jay if he “envisioned” a performance like Thursday night, I applaud Jay for not walking away from the podium while loudly mumbling “asshole”.

I acknowledge who he is on the field and understand him off it. The four-pick possibility and cantankerous interview are the price you pay to accept Jay’s skillset and bask in the glory of his frequent brilliance. That is who Jay Cutler is. And I don’t see him diverging from that path anytime soon.