Seventy-some miles of Lake Michigan shoreline separate them. That’s it. Just a straight shot up I-41 or a slow crawl through the northern Chicago suburbs. But the distance between the Chicago Bears and the Green Bay Packers isn't measured in miles. It's measured in decades of spite, frozen tundras, and a level of mutual obsession that honestly feels a little unhealthy if you step back and look at it objectively.
They’ve played over 200 times. Think about that.
Since 1921, these two franchises have been trying to ruin each other's Sundays. It is the longest-running soap opera in American sports, and unlike most TV shows, this one doesn't need a writers' room to stay dramatic. The Bears and Green Bay have a history rooted in the very survival of the NFL. Back when professional football was just a bunch of guys in leather helmets playing in mud-clogged cow pastures, George Halas and Curly Lambeau were already busy hating each other. It’s the ultimate blue-collar blood feud.
The Day George Halas Saved Green Bay (And Probably Regretted It)
Most people assume this rivalry is built purely on malice. It isn't. It’s actually built on a very weird, codependent foundation of survival.
There’s a legendary story—completely true, by the way—from 1922. The Packers were actually kicked out of the league because they used college players under assumed names. It was a scandal. Who was the guy who stepped up and campaigned for their reinstatement? George "Papa Bear" Halas. He knew that without a team in Green Bay, the league's geography didn't make sense. He needed a villain. He needed a neighbor to beat. Decades later, when the Packers were facing financial ruin and trying to build what would become the iconic Lambeau Field, Halas actually went to Green Bay and gave a speech to locals, urging them to support the bond issue to keep the team in town.
Talk about playing the long game.
Imagine a world where Halas just lets them fold. The Bears might have ten more trophies, sure, but the soul of the sport would be hollow. That’s the irony of the Bears and Green Bay dynamic. They need each other to define who they are. Without the "Monsters of the Midway," the Packers are just a small-town team with a nice stadium. Without the "Frozen Tundra," the Bears are just another legacy franchise.
🔗 Read more: The Packers and Seahawks Rivalry is Just Different: Why These Teams Can’t Quit the Drama
The Decade of Dominance and the "Owner" of Chicago
If you’re a Bears fan, the last thirty years have been rough. "Rough" is actually an understatement. It's been a psychological gauntlet.
Since the early 90s, the Packers have transitioned seamlessly from Brett Favre to Aaron Rodgers to Jordan Love. That’s three decades of Hall of Fame or high-level quarterback play. Meanwhile, the Bears have started dozens of different quarterbacks. It's a revolving door. You've got names like Cade McNown, Rex Grossman, Mitchell Trubisky, and Justin Fields. Each one was supposed to be "The One." Each one eventually fell victim to the Green Bay buzzsaw.
Remember when Aaron Rodgers screamed "I still own you!" at the Soldier Field crowd in 2021?
It was brutal. It was arrogant. It was also, statistically speaking, pretty accurate. Rodgers finished his career in Green Bay with a 26-5 record against Chicago. That isn't a rivalry; that's a lopsided inheritance. But that’s exactly why the energy in this matchup never fades. Every time they meet, Bears fans convince themselves that this is the year the tide turns. The hope is what kills you, but it’s also what keeps the TV ratings higher than almost any other regular-season game in the country.
Why the 1985 Bears Still Matter in This Conversation
You can't talk about these teams without mentioning 1985. For Chicago, that year is a religion. For Green Bay, it’s a painful reminder of their "dark ages."
Mike Ditka. The 46 Defense. The Super Bowl Shuffle.
That team didn't just win; they humiliated people. And they took special pleasure in hammering the Packers. There was the game where William "The Refrigerator" Perry, a 300-plus pound defensive tackle, was used as a fullback to plunge into the end zone. It was the ultimate "forget you" move from Ditka to the Packers' sideline. It signaled a shift in power that lasted for a few years, but more importantly, it cemented the cultural identity of the Chicago Bears as a team of grit and intimidation.
The Geography of Hate
Go to the border of Illinois and Wisconsin on a game day. Go to a dive bar in Kenosha or a gas station in Beloit. You’ll see it. The "Cheeseheads" and the "Orange and Blue" don't just coexist; they engage in a constant, low-level psychological warfare.
- The Apparel: In Green Bay, wearing a Bears jersey is a brave choice that will get you "politely" heckled at every checkout counter.
- The Food: It’s brats vs. Italian Beef. It's New Glarus beer vs. Old Style.
- The Family Feuds: Because of the proximity, thousands of families are "split." I know a guy who hasn't spoken to his brother during the month of November for ten years because of a missed pass interference call in 2014.
The Jordan Love Era Begins
We're in a new chapter now. Jordan Love is the guy in Green Bay, and the Bears have bet the entire future of the franchise on Caleb Williams. For the first time in a long time, the quarterback age gap has closed. Both teams are young. Both teams are trying to find a new identity that isn't just "what happened in the 90s."
When they played in the 2023 season opener, the vibes were electric. The Packers won, of course—extending their winning streak over Chicago to ten games—but the game felt different. It felt like the start of a sprint. The Bears are building a massive new stadium (eventually), and the Packers are hosting the NFL Draft in 2025. The business of this rivalry is booming even when the win-loss column is lopsided.
Tactical Reality: How the Games Are Actually Won
When you strip away the jerseys and the history, why does Green Bay usually win lately?
It comes down to continuity. The Packers' front office, led by Brian Gutekunst and previously Ted Thompson, has a "draft and develop" philosophy that they stick to with religious fervor. They rarely overspend in free agency. They don't panic. The Bears, conversely, have spent the last decade in a state of perpetual "win now" mode, often trading away high draft picks for veteran players who don't pan out.
Success in the NFL is about the boring stuff. It’s about offensive line depth and cap management. Green Bay has been better at the boring stuff for a long time.
However, the Bears' defense under Matt Eberflus started showing real teeth toward the end of the 2023 season. They started taking the ball away. They started playing with that 1980s-style aggression that makes Packers fans nervous. If Chicago can ever find a way to pair a top-five defense with even a top-fifteen offense, the "ownership" dynamic in this rivalry is going to flip overnight.
What Most People Get Wrong About the Fans
Outsiders think we hate each other. Like, genuinely despise the humans on the other side.
That’s not quite it.
There is a deep, begrudging respect between a Bears fan and a Packers fan. Both fanbases know what it’s like to sit in -10 degree weather with a beer that is literally turning into a slushie in your hand. Both fanbases understand that football is more than just a game; it’s a civic identity. You won't find the same kind of atmosphere at a Chargers or Rams game. This is Midwest football. It’s heavy, it’s cold, and it’s loud.
Honestly, the rivalry is the only thing that makes the winters bearable. Without a January game against the "bad guys" to look forward to, January is just four weeks of grey slush and wind chill.
How to Experience Bears vs. Green Bay Like a Local
If you’re planning to travel for a game, don't just go to the stadium and leave. You’re missing the point.
- Tailgate at Lambeau: Even if you’re in a Bears jersey, if you bring a six-pack of decent beer and act like a decent human, someone will offer you a bratwurst. It’s the law of the land.
- Visit the Hall of Fame: The Packers Hall of Fame is objectively incredible, even if you hate the team. It’s a museum of American history that just happens to be about football.
- The Chicago Lakefront: Tailgating at Soldier Field with the skyline in the background is a top-five experience in all of sports. The wind coming off Lake Michigan in December is a rite of passage.
This rivalry isn't going anywhere. It’s survived world wars, the Great Depression, the merger of the AFL and NFL, and the move from the "Black and Blue" division to the NFC North. It is the one constant in a league that changes every single year.
Next Steps for Fans and Travelers:
Check the official NFL schedule the moment it drops in May. These games sell out instantly, but the secondary market usually hits a "sweet spot" about three weeks before kickoff. If you're heading to Green Bay, book your hotel in Appleton or Oshkosh; the hotels in Green Bay proper are often booked years in advance by corporate sponsors. If you're a Bears fan going to Lambeau, bring hand warmers—the metal bleachers act like a heat sink and will pull the warmth right out of your body. Most importantly, brush up on your history. If you can argue about why Gale Sayers was better than any Packers RB or why Don Hutson changed the game, you'll earn respect in any bar from Chicago to the Upper Peninsula.