The Real 2025 Bears Offensive MVP Isn’t Who You Think It Is

We need to have a serious conversation about what we just watched.

If you told me two years ago that I’d be sitting here, nursing a Malört (jk that drink is nasty — sorry not sorry), writing about an 11-6 Chicago Bears team that captured the NFC North crown and ranked 4th in total offense, I would have asked you what strain you were smoking and where I could buy a kilo of it.

The 2024 season wasn’t just bad; it was a crime against football. It was offensive malpractice. We watched a rookie quarterback get turned into a human piñata 68 times. We watched an offense that couldn’t score in a brothel with a fistful of hundreds. 32nd in total offense. 28th in scoring. It was the kind of season that makes you question your life choices and wonder if Sundays are better spent staring at a blank wall.

But then 2025 happened.

And suddenly, we’re not the laughingstock. We’re the bullies. We’re the ones dropping 30-burgers and running comebacks like it’s a Madden game on rookie mode. The transformation was violent, immediate, and frankly, confusing for a fanbase traumatized by decades of ineptitude.

So, naturally, the talking heads and the Twitter GMs are screaming about MVPs. They’re printing Caleb Williams shirts. They’re building shrines to Ben Johnson. They’re drafting D’Andre Swift in the first round of their dynasty leagues.

And look, I get it. We love the flash. We love the sexy stats.

But if you think the MVP of this offense is the guy throwing the ball, or the guy calling the plays, or the guy running the ball… you aren’t looking hard enough. You’re looking at the paint job on a Ferrari and ignoring the engine that’s actually making the damn thing move.

We’re going deep today. No corporate fluff. No “team effort” clichés. We’re going to dissect this historic turnaround and figure out who actually saved this franchise from the abyss.

Grab a drink (please not Malört). This might shock you.

The Context: digging Out of Hell

To understand who the MVP is, you have to remember the smell of the dumpster fire we just climbed out of.

2024 wasn’t a “building year.” It was a demolition.

Caleb Williams was running for his life on 28% of his dropbacks. The line was a turnstile. The play-calling was written in crayon. We had a sack rate of nearly 10% — basically, one out of every ten times we tried to throw the ball, it ended with our franchise quarterback eating turf.

Fast forward to 2025.

• Wins: +6
• Points Per Game: +7.7 (That’s a touchdown a game, folks).
• Sacks Allowed: Dropped from 68 to 24.
• Pass Block Win Rate: From 15th to 1st.

That’s not improvement. That’s a resurrection.

So, who gets the credit? Let’s line up the suspects.

Candidate 1: The Architect (Ben Johnson)

Let’s start with the brain.

Ben Johnson came in here from Detroit (gross, I know, but respect the game) and did something Matt Eberflus couldn’t do in his wildest dreams: he installed an actual professional offense.

The man is a warlock. He took the same 12-personnel heavy concepts he used to make Jared Goff look like Montana and applied them to Caleb. But here’s the genius part — he didn’t just copy-paste. He adapted.

In 2024, we were a shotgun-heavy team because we were terrified of our O-line getting blown up. Johnson walked in, looked at the roster, and said, “Nah, we’re going under center.” nearly 50% of the snaps.

Why does that matter? Because play-action from under center is basically a cheat code. It forces linebackers to freeze. It buys that extra half-second. And Johnson abused it. Caleb’s completion percentage under center was higher than in shotgun. His QBR on play-action was 80.0 — third in the league.

Johnson also did the impossible: he fixed the culture. Seven comeback wins? Six in the fourth quarter? That doesn’t happen by accident. That happens when a coach looks his team in the eye and they actually believe him when he says, “We got this.”

The Verdict: Is he important? hell yes. He’s the reason we look organized. But let’s be real — Thomas Brown had a lot of these same dudes late in 2024 and we still looked like a high school JV squad. Coaching matters, but coaching is theoretical until players execute it. Johnson designed the car, but he isn’t the engine.

Candidate 2: The Golden Boy (Caleb Williams)

Oh, Caleb.

The leap from Year 1 to Year 2 was… well, it was everything we prayed for.

3,942 yards. 27 touchdowns. A franchise record for passing yards (sorry, Erik Kramer, your reign is over).

But the numbers don’t tell the whole story. It was the way he played.

Remember rookie Caleb? Holding the ball for 3 seconds, spinning into a sack, fumbling, looking like he wanted to cry? 2025 Caleb held the ball longer (3.20 seconds average) but took fewer sacks. How does that math work? It’s called pocket presence, baby. It’s called knowing where your escape lanes are. His pressure-to-sack rate dropped from a horrific 28.2% to an elite 12.2%.

And the clutch gene? The kid has ice water in his veins.

• 4th Quarter Stats: 13 TDs, 96.8 Rating.
• Game Winners: 5 drives.
• That Giants Game: Trailing with 2 minutes left, he puts the team on his back, runs for 63 yards, throws for 220, and scores the winner with his legs. That’s franchise QB stuff.

The Verdict: He’s the face of the franchise. He’s the most important player for the next decade. But was he the most valuable for this specific turnaround?

I’m gonna say something controversial: No.

Look at the completion percentage. 58.1%. That’s… bad. That’s 32nd in the league. He missed throws. He missed reads. He had games (like the Divisional Round against the Rams) where he tried to give the game away with 3 picks.

Caleb drove the car, but he didn’t build the road. He was the beneficiary of a clean pocket that let him hold the ball for an eternity. Put 2024 Caleb behind this 2025 line, and he’s probably an All-Pro. Put 2025 Caleb behind the 2024 line? He’s in the hospital.

Candidate 3: The Toys (Swift, Loveland, Monangai)

I love what D’Andre Swift did. Career high yards (1,087). 9 touchdowns. He was the perfect zone-run back. He planted his foot, made one cut, and went. None of that dancing nonsense.

And Colston Loveland? The rookie tight end? Are you kidding me? Drafting a TE at 10 seemed rich, but the kid is a mismatch nightmare. 85.3 PFF grade. 0.514 WAR (that’s Wins Above Replacement for the nerds). His second half of the season was absurd. He basically became Travis Kelce Jr. in the red zone.

Then there’s Kyle Monangai. The 7th round afterthought who runs like he’s angry at the ground. Watching him and Swift was like watching thunder and lightning, if lightning could catch passes and thunder cost a 7th round pick.

The Verdict: They were weapons. Flashy, dangerous weapons. But weapons don’t fire themselves. Swift averaged 4.9 yards per carry not because he turned into Barry Sanders, but because he wasn’t getting touched until he was 2 yards downfield.

The Real MVP: The Big Uglies

Okay, enough foreplay.

You want to know who the MVP is? You want to know who turned a 5-win laughingstock into an 11-win juggernaut?

It’s the beef.

It’s Joe Thuney, Darnell Wright, Drew Dalman, and Jonah Jackson.

I can hear you groaning. “An offensive line? That’s boring.” Shut up. You know what’s boring? Punting. You know what’s boring? 3-and-out. You know what’s boring? Watching your quarterback get peeled off the turf like a sticker.

This offseason, Ryan Poles looked at his bank account and said, “Empty it.” He brought in Thuney (Kansas City royalty), Dalman, and Jackson.

And they didn’t just “improve” the line. They built a damn fortress.

The Numbers Don’t Lie (Even if You Do)

• Pass Block Win Rate: 73%. NUMBER ONE IN THE NFL.
• Sack Reduction: -44 sacks. That is historically absurd.
• Yards Before Contact: 1.89. Best in the league early on.

Let me explain that last stat for the casuals in the back. “Yards Before Contact” means our running backs were running nearly TWO FULL YARDS before a defender even laid a finger on them. My grandmother could gain 3 yards a carry with that kind of blocking, and she’s been dead since ’98.

This interior trio played 3,437 snaps together. They were basically glued at the hip. They communicated. They passed off stunts. They mauled people.

Remember that Steelers game Week 12? TJ Watt usually ruins our lives. The Bears posted an 85% pass block win rate that day. 85 percent! That’s not blocking; that’s bullying.

The Enabling Effect

Here is the crux of my argument: Replacement Value.

If you take Caleb Williams off this team and put in Tyson Bagent, we probably win 7 or 8 games because the line is so good and the defense is solid. If you take D’Andre Swift off, Monangai probably runs for 1,000 yards. If you take Ben Johnson away… okay, we might suck again, but Thomas Brown isn’t that bad.

But if you take Joe Thuney, Drew Dalman, and Jonah Jackson off this roster and replace them with the turnstiles we had in 2024?

We go 5-12. Again. Guaranteed.

The entire offensive philosophy — the deep drops, the slow-developing play-action, the outside zone runs — it ALL relies on the interior line winning. If the guard gets blown up, the play-action fake doesn’t work. If the center gets pushed back, Caleb can’t step up.

These three guys enabled Caleb to stop panicking. They enabled Swift to look like an All-Pro. They enabled Ben Johnson to call deep shots on 3rd-and-long because he knew he had time.

Joe Thuney, specifically, is a cyborg. The man is a 4-time Pro Bowler who just casually slid over to LEFT TACKLE in the playoffs when Trapilo went down and the line didn’t miss a beat. That’s MVP behavior. That’s “put the team on your back” behavior, just without the flashy touchdown dance.

Cultural Transformation

Offensive Line Coach Dan Roushar said it best: “With Joe, you have a player who is consistently reliable. You know what to expect from him on every down.”

Reliability. Consistency. Toughness.

Those were the words missing from Halas Hall for a decade. We had flash. We had drama. We had potential. But we didn’t have toughness.

This line gave the team a spine. When you know your big guys can push their big guys around, you play differently. You walk differently. The “Soft Bears” narrative died the minute Thuney and Co. put on the pads.

The Final Verdict

I know how the NFL awards work. They’re going to give the accolades to the guys who sell jerseys. Caleb got the Pro Bowl votes. Johnson became the Coach of the Year finalist.

But if you’re a real fan — if you actually watch the tape and don’t just check the fantasy app — you know the truth.

The 2025 Chicago Bears Offensive MVP isn’t a person. It’s a unit. It’s the Offensive Line.

But if I have to give the trophy to one guy (because rules are rules), hand it to Joe Thuney.

He’s the ringleader. He’s the standard. He’s the reason Caleb Williams still has all his ribs.

So go ahead, buy the Caleb jersey. Buy the Colston jersey. But when you’re toasting this division title, pour one out for the big guys at the line of scrimmage. Because without them, we’re just another team with a cool quarterback and a losing record.

Bear Down.

2025 Bears Offensive MVP: The Final Breakdown