Manning's the rain man in Miami
The Miami weather, perfect all week, had been replaced by rain.
The beach and cement had been replaced by the emerald grass of Dolphin Stadium.
And the NFC champion Bears -- grim-faced and anxious -- had been replaced by stooges.
Stooges for the amazing, twitching Peyton Manning, that is.
Yes, that Peyton Manning, the guy who achieved vindication for his entire long-suffering football family, the superstar who led the Colts to a 29-17 pasting of the Bears for the 41st Super Bowl championship.
''Next year, I hope we're a better team,'' he said after the game. ''And I hope I'm a better quarterback.''
Please tell us you're kidding, P-Man.
Near Manning stood his older brother, Cooper, and his dad, Archie.
Cooper, a fine high school receiver, had to quit football in college because of a congenital spine problem.
Archie was beaten like a tin can in 15 years as an NFL quarterback. Brother and fellow quarterback Eli has taken his lumps with the Giants.
So here came redemption.
''Feels nice,'' Cooper said.
Manning probably couldn't throw a pass or hand off unless he pointed east and west, grabbed his towel, slapped his helmet, yelled stuff north and south, walked hither and yon, lifted his leg twice like a dog marking its territory, sold a few credit cards.
But in the wet night air, Manning's passes were as assured as Prince's halftime licks on that purple guitar.
Manning's no-huddle, check-with-me offense crackled with precision and variety.
''I felt pretty comfortable and in control out there,'' he said. ''I think our no-huddle is hard for them. I could their defense getting tired.''
As assured as the nine-year vet and game MVP was, his counterpart on the Bears, Rex Grossman, was that overwhelmed.
You could pick either of a pair of Rex moments to see how he stumbled through his big-game opportunity, how he proved all his doubters correct in the process.
Midway through the third quarter, Grossman went backward 22 yards in two plays, losing 11 on a sack in which he fell down, then 11 more on a fumbled snap.
In consecutive series in the fourth quarter, Grossman threw two outrageous interceptions that the Colts returned for a combined 94 yards.
''I know I'm going to get better,'' Rex said, seeming sincere.
A Super Bowl team that could overcome such failing from its helmsman would have to be one with a rip-snorting, hellacious defense, one like, well -- just to bring it up one more time -- the Buddy Ryan-designed 1985 Bears defense.
This Bears defense has devolved and decelerated with the loss of safety Mike Brown and run-stuffer Tommie Harris.
Manning, on the other hand, had his first pass tipped by middle linebacker Brian Urlacher and his fourth intercepted by safety Chris Harris.
Then Manning simply became the mad scientist he has grown into, in charge of everything in his bubbling, hyperactive lab.
His 25 completions in 38 attempts for 247 yards were the perfect complement to a 42-attempt running game that saw share-the-load backs Dominic Rhodes and Joseph Addai gain a combined 190 yards.
The 2006 Bears had wanted so desperately to rid Chicago of the nagging ghost of the Super Bowl XX Bears, whose players and coaches seem to lurk everywhere, advising, critiquing, tooting their horns like circus clowns.
Rookie Devin Hester ran the opening kickoff of Super Bowl XLI back 92 yards for a touchdown, and with 14 seconds gone, the Bears led 7-0.
They even moved ahead 14-6 on a four-yard touchdown pass from Grossman to Muhsin Muhammad.
But the powder in their guns was soggy. And the Colts were aflame.
Maybe the rain that sprinkled all night affected Grossman and his teammates most of all.
Manning admitted to practicing the ''wet-ball drill'' over and over -- taking snaps with a ball dipped in a bucket of water -- this week with center Jeff Saturday.
But its seems more likely the Bears simply met their match, the best team with the best quarterback -- by far -- in the NFL.
And Grossman's failings -- the failings perhaps of a guy who just hasn't played enough NFL ball -- were too much to overcome.
When the Bears captains came out for the pregame coin toss, they had the most intense, focused looks of any athletes not fighting lions with short swords in Roman coliseums.
But in the end that focus -- Olin Kreutz's eyes could've bored through steel -- was not enough.
''I'm proud to be a part of this team,'' said Manning, who can say he played for the first winning African-American coach in Super Bowl history, Tony Dungy.
That in itself proved that Bears leader Lovie Smith, the first African-American coach to lose a Super Bowl, should also feel proud, if still badly unfulfilled.
Prince, the funkiest halftime marching-band leader ever, in his aqua suit with orange (mostly unbuttoned) shirt, black head scarf and dancing babes, might have said it best for the Colts: ''Rollin' on the river!''
Soon enough the river of confetti came flowing down on the Colts.
And the 2006 Bears left the soft and wet field with the almost unbearable sadness of being not good enough.
A hard, hard place to be.
Letters to our sports columnists appear Sunday. Send e-mail to inbox@suntimes.com. Include your full name, hometown and a daytime phone number.
