Thirty-seven. Thirty-one. That’s it. So far.
It was the points the numbers represented that set off the contrast. Suspect from Day 1, the points put up by other teams against the Bears’ defense began to look and feel like anomalies.
Because, well, hell, on other days, in other games, where the numbers weren’t north of 30, the unit — whatever that happened to look like from week to week, whoever was able to suit up — defensive coordinator Dennis Allen put on the field to defend Chicago’s NFL honor somehow kept defying expectations.
It was recently said Allen had ‘‘arguably coached one of his best games’’ as the Bears’ DC. His blitz scheming called ‘‘brilliant.’’ His mastery to ‘‘manipulate the protection count,’’ as former NFL safety Matt Bowen referred to it, was ‘‘great football.’’
On the Patriots’ first drive Thursday night, in between downs, Al Michaels and Kirk Herbstreit, maybe predicting whom their Amazon Prime team would have to give further accolades to after the game, side-barred a segment to give Allen his flowers. The word ‘‘genius’’ was being tossed around.
Before all of this, before these last few games in which the Bears’ defense — while in flux — still found an identity, before the season began, the responsibility that belonged to Allen was doubted at inception.
The rundown since: Holding three of the seven teams they’ve played to 12 points or fewer. Holding a running back who’s on the short list in the MVP conversation (Bijan Robinson) to nine carries was a thing of beautiful resistance and denial. A run defense last season that was 27th in the NFL sits at No. 8 so far this season. A third-down defense that ranks No. 2 in the NFL. A points per game and total yards given up that were, (dis)respectively, 23rd and 29th in the NFL last season are now categories in which the Bears’ defense stands eighth and 11th, respectively.
Holding a team in the Patriots, who had been averaging more than 32 points in their previous four games to 24. Their fewest since Week 2.
It’s all DA. Take away the 16 points the defense allowed the Falcons in the fourth quarter, the six-reception, 143-yard, two-TD peace de’ Christian Watson put on them a few weeks ago and the breakdown on the last play of the first half against the Patriots, and Allen’s ‘‘bend but don’t break’’ defense has been close to unbroken.
He lives in this Bears culture in some unique form of anonymity. Inside of the shadow coach Ben Johnson casts. Making lemonade outta Hennessy and bruised lemons. The Bears’ BKS.
No Montez Sweat, Tyrique Stevenson (though he played Thursday), Coby Bryant, T.J. Edwards, Dayo Odeyingbo. No prob. No panic. Daniel Hardy, James Lynch, Grady Jarrett, Cam Lewis, Clark Phillips, D’Marco Jackson. Risen to occasion and opportunity. Add the sustained glimpses of overachievement of rookies Dillon Thieneman at safety and Malik Muhammad at corner, and all Allen has to do is play perfect chess with the pieces he has to work with on any given week, at any given position.
The players he continues introducing to us are basically those with no names. A dubious defense to begin with, he has seen major members of his starting unit ‘‘Bear down’’ to both injury and suspension, yet has instilled a ‘‘next Bear up’’ mentality that in this seven-week run seems very 2012-14 ‘‘Thibs-ish.’’ He has lifted them from ‘‘no-names’’ to ‘‘know names.’’
As quarterback Caleb Williams’ return has shaped the way the Bears have looked since, so might the return of cornerback Kyler Gordon. Hidden. Go figure. The man about whom Allen said during his introductory news conference in 2025: ‘‘I have a vision of how we can utilize him.’’ To which Mark Grote on ‘‘Rahimi and Grote’’ said of Allen in direct relation to Gordon: ‘‘If Dennis Allen were able to get [Gordon] to double-digit sacks, he’d be the greatest [defensive] coordinator that ever lived.’’
Now out there, maybe, all things considered and implementable, Allen can do with and for Gordon what Johnson has done with and for Williams.
We’ll see.
As Williams said, ‘‘That’s who we are: We’re gonna keep score.’’ To apply thought to expectative theory and totally paraphrase what Linus said to Charlie Brown, ‘‘Keep the score low Dennis Allen. Keep the score low.’’
He has. For the most part. The perfect complement and contrast to Johnson’s mission in keeping the score high.
What’s going to haunt Allen is his defense allowing more yards per target to wide receivers than any defense in the NFL. Looking one way against the Packers, another way against the Falcons and yet another against the Patriots. There’s time to find themselves. Find consistency.
Again, we’ll see.
As we sit back, sippin’ on the Henn and juice he continues to serve us, we can, God willin’, trust the swerve of the Bears’ above-solid ‘‘D’’ is official and real. And if this newly expected run meets the expectations the city is carrying within about how attainable the pinnacle is, then Dennis Allen is quietly putting himself in position to be this era’s Buddy Ryan. In Chicago.
Not necessarily in stature or aura but in what every championship-chasing team needs the most: someone who, by hook or crook or any means, gets the improbable, implausible, unpredictable done.
