Which Bears Player Would Survive the Longest in the Wilderness?
This entire offseason, all we heard was how the Bears needed a coach who was a “leader of men.”
From every talk show to ownership itself—it was leader of men, leader of men, leader of men.
Apparently, this was the only prerequisite for the job.
As you all know, we ended up with Ben Johnson. And look—I have no idea if Ben is actually a “leader of men.” But if you’ve been following along, you’d know I didn’t basically call him Jesus. I called him Jesus.
I’ve got my own little Praise Kier thing going on (Shoutout Severance).
Anyway, that got me thinking…
We’ve got the leader. But do we have the MEN? You know—blue-collar, calloused-hands, “I’ll walk six miles home from the bar before I ever call an Uber” type of men.
Naturally, I’ve decided to find out the only logical way possible: By imagining which Bears players would survive the longest if we dropped them in nature’s version of a Waffle House at 3 AM with no help.
Because, as everyone knows, the true measure of manhood isn’t work ethic, resilience, or performance under pressure. It’s whether or not you can build a fire with a shoelace, slam piss when dehydrated, and fistfight a mountain goat.
Let’s get into it.
Caleb Williams // Escapes…Until He Doesn’t
At first, QB1 is THRIVING.
He evades danger like he does with our O-line. Juking hippos. Slingin’ rocks at lions. Stiff-arming dehydration.
Elite-level flashes. People are saying he’s the next Tarzan. But in the end, he gets caught lacking.
Found deep in the woods, peacefully painting his fingernails with mud.
Mauled by a tiger. The nails looked great, though. RIP.
Rome Odunze // Silent Survivalist
A silent assassin. Moves like a shadow.
Smart, calculated—gathers food, builds fire, makes friends with wildlife. Adopts a pet squirrel named Squeaky.
It probably just reappears three years later, and it’s completely fine. Also probably goes for 2,000 yards.
Rome rocks.
D.J. Moore // Taps Out Voluntarily
Ultra-competitive. But also the first to say, “Man, this is wack.”
Refuses to eat bugs. Won’t touch berries because they’re “dirty.”
Actually tries the first two days, then just walks off. Somehow finds an Uber home.
On Kay Adams’ show the following day.
Jaylon Johnson // Becomes Luke Skywalker?
Disappears early. Not because he’s lost—because he chooses isolation. Goes full Luke Skywalker. Heads deep into the misty hills for a solo mental/spiritual retreat.
People think he’s done. But then…
From the shadows emerges Charles “Peanut” Tillman. No explanation. Just vibes.
They say Jaylon trained for 47 days straight. Punching trees to work on timing. Practicing Peanut Punches on coconuts and running drills against invisible quarterbacks.
At night, Peanut whispers ball-tracking secrets to him under the stars. He returns to civilization calm, centered, and somehow better at zone coverage.
The man is now more principle than player.
Jaylon ascended.
Jaquan Brisker // Concussion Protocol
PHOTO: Chicago Bears
Others craft bows and arrows. Brisker says, “Nah.”
Old school. No tools. It’s straight-up brute force.
Last seen headbutting a full-grown ram in a 1v1 brawl he personally instigated.
Definitely loses. But lives long enough to tweet that the ram is mid.
Cole Kmet // Smart Guy, Unfortunately That Doesn’t Fit My Agenda, Sorry
I know Cole is a smart guy. Notre Dame grad. You can feel the intelligence when he talks to the media.
That’s cool and all, but I like to imagine my beefy tight ends as more of a Gronkowski archetype.
Ya know, all he thinks about is like Buffalo Wild Wings and can’t figure out where the money goes in a vending machine.
Sees a wolf. Thinks it’s a teammate.
Ripped to shreds. Gone in an hour.
Tyrique Stevenson // Reggie Miller of the Jungle
He spends the first few days taunting wildlife like they’re wide receivers.
Gets in a deer’s face. Calls it soft. Tells it to “line up and run it back.”
The deer looks nervous… bolts…
And boom—absolutely smoked by a gorilla.
Quick Note
I don’t know anything about jungle geography.
So yeah, deer and gorillas chill together here. A unicorn might show up.
Miss me with your National Geographic commentary. This is my fantasy jungle.
Tyson Bagent // Possibly Immortal
Starts drinking his own piss almost immediately. Not out of necessity—just because.
Even with fresh water nearby, he opts for the full Bear Grylls experience.
Hunts wild animals with nothing but his bare hands and raw grit. Bears don’t attack him—they run from him.
Last seen riding a grizzly through the mountains.
Kyler Gordon // Not Spider-Man
Finds some berries. Doesn’t check if they’re poisonous.
They are. Very much so. Starts hallucinating. Thinks he’s actually Spider-Man.
Finds the tallest tree. You know the rest.
Dunzo.
Grady Jarrett // Off His Rocker
Starts strong—builds a shelter, finds water, crafts tools.
But mentally? He’s somewhere else.
Finds a volleyball. Draws Jordan Love’s face on it with mud and berries.
Doesn’t talk to it. Doesn’t bond with it. Just wakes up and goes twelve rounds with it every morning. It’s not healthy, but it works.
Stays alive off pure rage. Nobody checks on him.
Best to leave him be.
Darnell Wright & Jonah Jackson // Did We Just Become Best Friends
I like to imagine they’re best buddies. Not because they look like long-lost identical twins—though they do.
They don’t hunt. They don’t build anything. They just drink Miller Lites.
No one knows where they got them. They just have them.
They’re out there somewhere, shirtless, sitting on a log, cracking beers, watching chaos unfold like it’s a Sunday tailgate. This, of course, has nothing to do with my ongoing, deeply desperate quest to get Miller Lite to acknowledge me.
But, like… if someone reading this knows someone who knows someone…
A hat. A single beer. A sticker.
Just make me feel noticed. Please.
Joe Thuney // A Gentle Giant
Between whistles? Menace. When he’s pulling, he drives defenders into the earth like he’s operating a Texas oil rig.
But outside the lines? Calm. Soft-spoken. Probably makes tea.
Falls out of the plane holding a book. No one knows which one. Doesn’t matter. Reads it cover to cover. Then again.
Feeds deer. Crosses his legs in the grass.
Eventually disappears. Rumor has it he found a remote mountain village and became a full-time sheep herder.
Hell yeah, Joe.
May the mountain winds treat you well.
D’Andre Swift // Aim for the Bushes
He went whitewater rafting on a boat he made from logs.
A large sign clearly says, “Stay right.” Reads it. Nods. Last second—bounces it back left.
Launches off a massive waterfall.
Braxton Jones // Wrong Place at the Wrong Time
…Where Braxton Jones is just chillin’ in the lagoon below. Just vibing. Playing with frogs. Naming them.
Looks up. Last thing he sees.
Crushed instantly.
Ben Johnson // Too Committed to the Scheme
Refuses to focus on survival. Only cares about installing his offense.
Spends weeks trying to teach a group of gazelles how to run West Coast concepts.
Yelling about spacing. Timing. Pre-snap motion.
They don’t get it. They are gazelles.
Eventually starves to death, clipboard still in hand.
Matt Eberflus // Dies with Bread in Pocket
Survival is about adaptation. Eberflus refuses to adapt.
Has food in his pocket. Won’t eat it.
Spends days preaching the “HITS principle” to a group of uninterested squirrels.
Dies of starvation.
Bread still in his pocket.
Final Wilderness Report
So, there you have it. Our brave band of Bears, thrown into the wilderness with nothing but their instincts, grit, and—in some suspicious cases—a healthy supply of Miller Lite.
Some thrived. Others tripped on poison berries and threw some gnarly gainers off of trees.
But after running this extremely scientific, well-thought-out, mature simulation… I’ve decided: we’ve got some real dudes on this team.
And a head coach willing to literally die teaching outside zone.
That’s leadership.
So—let’s ride, let’s believe, and let’s stay away from the berries.
Bear Down!
PHOTO: Chicago Bears
Discover more from Chicago Sports Nation
Subscribe to get the latest posts sent to your email.
Categorized:Bears Unique Column