You Don’t Get Used to the Cold. You Get Built By It

Chicago Bears football doesn’t start at kickoff.
It starts in the parking lot.
It starts when your car says 20 and your bones say "not this sh*t again".

Chicago winters don’t ease you in.
One day it’s 40 and manageable. The next day, winter kicks the door in and reminds you who you are.

You go outside and warm up that car anyway.
But not before your body lets out the first expletive that comes to mind.
Because no matter how long you’ve lived here, that cold still rocks you.
From 3 to 33 to 83. Same reaction. Same breath. Same “Goddamn, it's cold.”

What changes isn’t the temperature.
It’s the mindset.

Over time, something forms.
A callous. Not on your hands. Not on your face.
In your spirit.

Midwesterners aren’t born tougher.
They’re trained.

Trained by 5:30 a.m. alarms.
Trained by snowstorms that disappear overnight but leave the cold behind.
Trained by knowing it’s going to be brutal and going anyway.

This is Midwest winter culture. Chicago winter weather at its most honest. The kind of cold that doesn’t make national headlines but quietly shapes the people who live here year after year.

In other words, as DJ Pharris would say, THIS CHICAGO!!!!!

Yes, there are warmer places to live.
No argument there.

But there are very few places better than Chicago, Illinois when it matters.
Especially when the weather stops being comfortable and starts being honest.

And when football comes back to the lakefront in the cold, the memories stack up fast.

I’ve seen this movie before. December 2018. Bears versus Rams at Soldier Field. Wind chill in the negatives. My wife had just given birth to our son two months earlier, and we were all there together — her, me, my best friend since third grade (a lifelong Rams fan), his girlfriend (now his wife), and a few other buddies. Bundled up like we were heading to the Arctic, layers on layers, hand warmers failing, breath freezing in the air.

Same cold.
Same breath.

You can feel it through two pairs of gloves stuffed with hand warmers. Three, four layers deep. Jeans. Long johns. Sweatpants on sweatpants. Bathroom breaks are a no-go. Doesn’t matter though. Lips stinging off an icy beer. Hot toddies doing CPR just to keep you upright.

Same feeling that Chicago football hits different when the weather turns hostile.

And this Sunday, honesty is back on the forecast.

The forecast has it sitting around the teens, but with that wind it’s gonna feel closer to negative by kickoff. Perfect.

The boys from California are coming to town.
The Los Angeles Rams.
Warm weather roots. Dome habits. Sunshine football.

Now let’s be real.
Not every Bear is from the cold.
Not every Ram is from Calabasas.

But environments matter. Habits matter. And January football on the lakefront asks questions you don’t hear in a dome.

Nobody loves this weather.

But here’s the difference.

This Bears team didn’t just stumble into it. Ben Johnson had them outside all week. No heaters. No shortcuts. Just wind, breath in the air, and grass gone stiff under their feet. Players admitted they hated it at first. Then they bought in. Kevin Byard said it might actually be better this way. That once your body adjusts, the cold stops being a factor.

That’s not comfort.
That’s preparation.

When it drops below zero, Chicagoans don’t ask if they want to go outside. They figure out how fast they need to move in that mf before they freeze solid.

That’s not preference.
That’s survival.

And survival doesn’t stop when the game starts.

That’s Chicago playoff football.
Cold faces. Numb fingers. No excuses.

Moments like this don’t come around often here. A home playoff game. January. Soldier Field. This city finally tasted a home playoff win again, and now it demands more. This is what you survived fifteen winters for.

Games like this live on because of how they feel. Fans frozen in place. Breath hanging in the air. Hands numb before halftime. January football at Soldier Field isn’t just a setting. It’s a test.

This city was built in conditions that force decisions.
Either you fold.
Or you figure it out.

So when that thermostat dips into the teens,
When the wind off the lake cuts straight through layers,
Remember this isn’t punishment.

This is home field advantage.

This is Chicago Bears playoff football.
At Soldier Field.
In January.
In the cold.

This is what Chicago is.
This is who Chicagoans are.

And one more time for good measure, THIS CHICAGO!!

Bear down.