Justin Fields wants to be Jordan Love when he grows up.
He’d like to have an offensive line that can block. He’d like to hold onto the football. He’d like to have three touchdowns passes. He’d prefer not to hear boos aimed at his team’s ineffective offense. He wouldn’t say no to his defense showing up.
He’d like to win a game against the sworn enemy.
Love, who spent the past three years mostly watching from the sidelines, led the Packers to a 38-20 victory Sunday over the Bears in his first start of the post-Aaron Rodgers era.
Fields, starting for the 26th time in his young career, looked very much like he did last year as a passer, which isn’t saying much, other than everything.
With all the hype and hope devoted to the Bears in the offseason, what transpired at Soldier Field had to be disappointing for general manager Ryan Poles, the architect of this rebuild, and coach Matt Eberflus, who surely thought he’d see better after a 3-14 season.
But as bad as it was for them, it was worse for Fields, who carries the burden of his own limitations, the limitations of the talent around him and the outsized expectations of a city desperate for evidence of the rumored forward pass.
“This one hurts,’’ Fields said. “I’m not going to lie to you.’’
Love couldn’t have asked for more out of his debut as The Man, but if he had, the Bears’ defense probably would have obliged. He was that good, and the resistance was that weak.
He completed 15 of 27 passes for 245 yards and those three touchdowns. It was the second start of his career.
Fields finished 24 of 37 for 216 yards. He had a touchdown pass, an interception and a fumble. He was all of that, when he was supposed to be beyond that.
Love averaged 9.1 yards per pass attempt, Fields 5.8.
This is not how it was supposed to go, according to a script that was floating out there on the wind currents of delusion in Chicago. Rodgers, the big, bad wolf, was gone to the Jets, and Love, who couldn’t actually be good (could he?), would struggle. The Packers were there for the taking.
This would be the start of something for the Bears. It would a statement. A manifesto. No more, it said.
Um, about that.
By the third quarter, impatient fans at Soldier Field were booing the offense. Ineffective screen passes will do that to a crowd that has been fed a steady diet of them for years.
If it makes them feel better, they can go ahead and say it: It’s early. But deep down, they have to be tired of it being early all the time.
What did Eberflus think of Fields’ performance?
“I’ll have to look at the tape,’’ he said, saying what coaches always say when they don’t want to say anything.
Let’s save him some time. The tape isn’t good. Fields didn’t have a lot of help, and he struggled. The Bears looked unsettled and undisciplined. But the idea that penalties killed them Sunday ignores the fact that Green Bay had nine to the Bears’ seven.
The only signs of life for the home team came in the first quarter. The Packers’ Jaire Alexander hit a scrambling Fields before he stepped out of bounds, and some of the Bears’ offensive linemen rushed to defend their quarterback. But what did they expect? That the Packers weren’t going to hit Fields while he was on the field of play? If they had blocked for him with similar effort and passion Sunday, he might have thrown for 300 yards and three touchdowns.
It’s a new season, but if first impressions mean anything, not much has changed. Fields is still a joy to watch and a pain to defend when he runs with the ball. Time and again, the Packers seemed to have No. 1 in their clutches, only to come up with fistfuls of air.
But the reminder in Week 1 was that much of the good he does is still predicated on opponents’ fear he might run. When the Bears got behind and had to throw, there wasn’t much left to dread.
Their best receiver, DJ Moore, acquired in return for the No. 1 overall draft pick earlier this year, finished with two catches for 25 yards.
The Packers were without their best receiver, Christian Watson, who had a hamstring injury. It didn’t matter.
Rodgers is gone.
No, really.
You couldn’t tell?
Me neither.
