🛸The Night the Mothership Parallel-Parked at Soldier Field (and Ditka Declared DEFCON)
Pre-landing: a lakefront temple before the UFO landed in 2003—Soldier Field, circa ’86. 🏈
(Can you find the hidden messages PAYTON and BEARDOWN? I’ll share the answer after enough people comment on this piece, in the comments.)
And yes—this photo is from when the Chicago Bears were terrifying and the lake wind could sandblast your soul. ❄️
You fast-forward to the 2000s and there’s a mothership circling Lower Wacker, missing every garage, then parallel-parking on the colonnades like it owned the place. Streets & San promised to move it “after winter,” which in Chicago means May/June—right before construction season kicks in. It’s been “there” ever since. 😅
Then—because Chicago loves drama—came the era of renderings, ribbon cuttings, and “temporary” detours that lasted longer than a Lake Shore Drive lane closure.
Okay, enough foreplay. Let’s talk potholes—between 2:00 and 4:30 a.m.
Now for the conspiracy: our visitors call themselves The DaBearians of Planet Wacker Prime, and they’ve got a plan to reduce single-occupancy vehicles (SOVs). Because cars contribute to climate change, they launched an… aggressive Transportation Demand Management (TDM) campaign. Their theory: if Lake Shore Drive has enough “TDM Crop Circles,” a.k.a. potholes, Chicagoans will ditch the sedan and ride transit. So every night they “improve” the asphalt, then phone Art Bell to brag that they’re saving the planet more efficiently than “those corny field messages the Grays keep doing.” 📞🕳️
Meanwhile, the aliens have Chicago transit takes
They’re not just cratering asphalt, either—the DaBearians’ relationship-building tour has included coffee with CTA, Pace, and Metra; photo ops with Mayors Daley and Lightfoot; a motivational nod from Michael Jordan; a sit-down with Oprah; and a carefully staged wave from the Obamas. (These beings understand local media.)
The DaBearians are proud of their work. To flex in the cosmic turf war with the Grays, they “dropped a magic bean” in Millennium Park—Chicago’s Washington Monument, only polished and bent for selfies. Then they told WGN-TV that more people shoot The Bean (aka Cloud Gate) than visit the Sears—sorry, Willis—Tower. (Debatable, but very on-brand.)
Enter Ditka.
Turns out the younger, swaggering DaBearians are in a century-long grudge match with the older, spreadsheet-wielding Grays. Think:
Coach’s peace plan: Bench both species. “DaBearians—quit cratering the Drive. Grays—hand the tablet to Walter… Payton. Not your analytics intern.” It worked… briefly. Then the DaBearians tried to install a goalpost on the Adler Planetarium, and we were back to DEFCON Ditka. 🧭🥴
Meanwhile, in the non-alien timeline…
Stadium, but make it UFO-proof
Below are features the Bears say will future-proof the place—plus free transit for season-ticket holders. (Totally real. Pinky swear.)
Personal interlude (a Chicago memory break)
I didn’t have season tickets, but I did have Lower Wacker detours and ’90s lake wind that could saw through three layers and your will to live. On bad days, the cross-breeze could pick up a Portillo’s sausage and rehome it in Indiana. If you’ve hustled that shoreline in winter, you know: Chicago doesn’t need UFOs to test human resolve. We have February—overtime in March—and, for no good reason, twin fall cold fronts in October and November. (Also: Illinois politics. Let’s just say a few governors did “post-game interviews” from unusual locations.)
When I say I’m from Chicagoland, folks jump to the ’85 Bears and the Cubbies—not so much that other team with the sterile stadium and the owner who helped end the ’90s Bulls. I digress—because that’s what Chicagoans do: bounce from one thing to the next like you already know what we mean.
My most memorable Soldier Field night? Fifty-yard-line seats—close to the field—with my girlfriend. In my 20s I thought I was Da Man. Tried to cap the flex with a nice restaurant—no reservation—so I pulled the movie move: a $20 handshake. Shockingly, reality isn’t a movie. We ended up at a perfectly imperfect spot (maybe Portillo’s), and still had a weekend to remember. The next weekend, though… I accidentally triggered a Cheesecake Incident that made her cry (my kryptonite). Not mean—just unfiltered. That saga deserves its own story—and yes, it will top the time I puked on the cheerleader bus. But I’m getting ahead of myself. Back to the DaBearians…
Frequently Asked (Alien) Questions
Q: Why didn’t the mothership just park in the South Loop garage? A: Two words: Bears game. Also, the DaBearians refuse to download SpotHero . Religious thing.
Q: Who started the DaBearians–Grays feud? A: Scholars at DePaul University and University of Chicago trace it to a sideline argument about why the trophy’s named after Lombardi and not Halas.
Q: Will the new stadium finally stop midnight potholes? A: Only if the Ditka Button gets a second setting: “Quit makin’ crop circles, ya goofballs.”
Nerd Box (keep or delete before publishing)
Your turn
Bear Down. Beam up. And for the love of Walter Payton, watch for potholes. 💙🧡🛸
Sources (Fictional…as if you don’t know LOL)
Halasinski, M., & Lombardius, Z. (1998). The Halas–Lombardi Paradox: Telepathy at the Ice Bowl. Journal of Intergalactic Sports Studies, 12(4), 1985–1997. Midway Interstellar Press (Chicago & Alpha Centauri). ISSN 5535‑DA85. DOI: 10.1985/jiss.12.4.1985. Abstract: Presents a tongue‑in‑cheek model of telepathic interference during NFL events (1965–1967), including microwave‑antenna schematics allegedly recovered from a Lambeau snowdrift. (Peer‑reviewed by Ditka, probably.)