Ben Johnson walked into Chicago with big expectations and even bigger questions. After engineering one of the NFL’s most explosive offenses in Detroit, he took over a Bears franchise that had spent years stuck in the basement, searching for relevance.
The talent gap between the Lions and Bears was real. So was the pressure.
Could Johnson replicate his success without the same roster-and while wearing the headset as a first-time head coach?
Turns out, he didn’t just replicate it. He redefined what Bears football could look like.
In his first year at the helm, Johnson led Chicago to an 11-6 record, a playoff berth, and-get this-the team’s first top-10 offense in over a decade. That’s not just a turnaround.
That’s a culture shift. The Bears went from an afterthought to must-see TV, not just because of what they did on the field, but because of the fire and swagger their head coach brought to every postgame podium.
Johnson’s energy was magnetic. His speeches went viral.
But it wasn’t just the media eating it up-word around the league during Super Bowl week confirmed what Chicago fans had already started to suspect: Johnson isn’t just a rising star. He’s already in the conversation with the NFL’s top offensive minds.
He’s being talked about in the same breath as Sean McVay and Kyle Shanahan-two coaches who’ve combined for four Super Bowl appearances since 2018 and have become fixtures in the postseason. That’s the level Johnson is flirting with. And if he stays on this trajectory, the Bears may have finally found the kind of head coach who doesn’t just win games but builds a sustainable contender.
But here’s where things get interesting. While Johnson is clearly respected around the league, he’s not exactly liked.
There’s a growing sense that the Bears might be stepping into the role of NFL villains-something the league hasn’t really had since the Brady-Belichick Patriots or the ‘90s Cowboys. Those teams earned their villain status by winning big and talking bigger. Chicago, under Johnson, might not wait that long.
From day one, Johnson hasn’t shied away from the smoke. At his introductory press conference, he took a jab at the Packers and Matt LaFleur, saying he looked forward to beating them twice a year.
That was just the beginning. There was the shirtless locker room celebration after a big win over Philly.
Then came the unfiltered “F**k the Packers!” moment after knocking Green Bay out in the wild card round.
Subtlety isn’t exactly his brand.
And then there’s the way he coaches. Johnson doesn’t play it safe.
He doesn’t sit on leads or call off the dogs. His foot stays on the gas, and his offense plays like it’s trying to put up 40 every week.
That kind of aggression doesn’t just win games-it makes enemies. But Johnson seems perfectly fine with that.
In fact, he might even prefer it.
It’s not hard to see why. In the NFL, being the villain isn’t a bad thing.
Some of the most hated teams in league history also happen to be the most successful. The goal isn’t to be liked-it’s to win.
And Johnson gets that. He’s not interested in playing the polished, media-friendly head coach.
He’s here to win games and take names. If that makes him the bad guy, so be it.
Sound familiar? It should.
George Halas, the founding father of the Bears, wasn’t exactly a warm and fuzzy figure either. He built a dynasty on toughness, attitude, and a relentless will to win.
Johnson’s channeling that same energy, and he’s not apologizing for it.
Chicago’s found its edge. And if Ben Johnson has anything to say about it, they’re not giving it up anytime soon.