The Big Chill: Ben Johnson and Matt LaFleur’s Handshake Told Us Everything We Needed to Know
You know the feeling. You run into that one neighbor you can’t stand at the grocery store. You do the tight-lipped smile, the nod that barely registers as movement, and you keep walking before they can ask about your lawn. That was the vibe at midfield on Saturday night between Ben Johnson and Matt LaFleur.
If you thought the arctic temperatures in Chicago were the coldest thing about the Bears’ stunning 31-27 comeback victory over the Packers, you clearly missed the postgame pleasantries. Or, should I say, the lack thereof.
Johnson and LaFleur met at the 50-yard line for what is technically called a “handshake,” though it looked more like a business transaction gone wrong. It was quick. It was curt. It was the kind of interaction that screams, “I am contractually obligated to acknowledge your existence, but I don’t have to like it.”
No Love Lost In the NFC North
The NFL has gotten a little too friendly lately. Jersey swaps, post-game prayers circles, and podcast appearances on each other’s shows. But this is Bears-Packers. We don’t want nice. We want grit. We want petty. We want coaches who look at the opposing sideline and see the enemy, not a future golf buddy.
Johnson gets it. When Johnson took the Chicago job, he didn’t just offer the usual platitudes about “building a culture.” He went straight for the jugular, admitting he “enjoyed beating Matt LaFleur twice a year” back when he was calling plays for the Lions. That’s not bulletin board material; that’s a declaration of war.
LaFleur, for his part, tried to play it cool earlier in the season, claiming he “didn’t think much of” the comments. The body language on Saturday night told a different story. That wasn’t the handshake of two guys who are just “competitive.” That was the handshake of a guy who just watched his season evaporate (LaFleur) and a guy who remembered every single word of trash talk uttered during the week (Johnson).
The Sweet Taste Of Petty
According to Johnson, the frostiness wasn’t just about the rivalry’s history. It was personal. “There was probably a little bit more noise coming out of their building up north to start of the week,” Johnson said. “Which we heard loud and clear, players and coaches alike. So this one meant something to us.”
The Bears split the regular season series with Green Bay, but this was the rubber match. The big one. The “win or go home” game. And for a franchise that has spent decades looking up at the Packers in the standings, pulling off an improbable comeback in the playoffs feels like an exorcism.
Johnson celebrating with his team immediately after the blink-and-you-missed-it handshake was the cherry on top. He didn’t linger. He didn’t offer condolences. He turned his back on Green Bay and embraced the chaos of a Soldier Field celebration.
Why We Need More Of This
Sports are theater, and every good play needs tension. The NFL is better when the Bears and Packers actually hate each other. It’s better when the coaches aren’t pretending to be best friends.
Johnson isn’t here to make friends in Green Bay. He’s here to win football games and make things uncomfortable for the guys in green and gold. And judging by that icy exchange on Saturday night, he’s doing exactly what he was hired to do.
