Locking Us Out

Baltimore just wants to get this thing over with. They have important business to tend to, like scrapping their way to a divisional title. The Ravens host Washington and then Pittsburgh after they clear the Bengals from their path. They’d like nothing more than to come into Cincinnati, put a quick sleeper hold on the Bengals, then jump back on the plane to prepare for real football teams. If our boys have anything going for them this weekend, it’s that Baltimore really doesn’t want to be here.

The Steelers took all the fun out of that three week undefeated streak - a win, a bye and a tie - and now we can again feel that icy draft of misery we experience when our team leaves the door open. The reality of a two or three win season is taking shape once again. After the most loyal of us thought we’d gained some footing, the free-fall seems to have returned. Bummer.

No, you say? Still have hope, faith and good spirits about what’s going on at that Rumpke heap of smelly football debris piled along the riverbanks? Well then, there’s this.

Jonathan Joseph became the 13th Bengal to go on injured reserve, our defensive end situation looks like a scene from MASH, and the offensive line is still trying to learn to survive. Our offense drives like a Yugo with a busted transmission, the rushing attack was inspired by My First Running Play by Playskool ® (one of Brat’s favorite childhood toys), and the only reason a receiver runs more than 20 yards is for exercise. Honestly, I don’t know why we bother.

And if all of that wasn’t enough to make a fan get silly with dangerous drugs or firearms, there’s Carson threatening to have surgery after all. He’s spent the last two months slowly allowing the possibility of surgery to seep into his Bengalitis-ridden cranium, and now he says if he isn’t ready to go by December 7th, he’s going under.

You know what that means, of course? It means that he won’t be 100 percent by training camp. We’ll be overprotective of him during the preseason, he won’t get that precious timing with the receivers that he’s always going on about, and the Bengals will suffer through yet another bad start to the season. And all will once again, be lost before it begins. It’s as if the organization purposefully embeds excuses into their misguided decisions. Like a blank doctor’s excuse that can be used whenever the water gets too hot.

If the Bengals seriously draft a wide receiver after Housh signs with Seattle or some other team next year, I will quit following this team.

Ravens 19, Bengals 8

Mojokong - I took that picture with my phone.

Tears of Laughter

What fools! The Bengals did their best Wile E. Coyote imitation, walking right into the trap LaBeau purchased from Acme this week . He bated us with an early touchdown into thinking that we found a crack in Pittsburgh’s design and we still haven’t realized the error in our ways.

“We can make adjustments when we’re dead. Right now we have a football game to win,” says Marvin’s logic. Or maybe Brat’s - it doesn’t matter. Nor does the outcome of last night’s yawn of a game. There were no surprises, no drama. It was Goliath effortlessly suffocating David in the sand. No big whoop.

The one interesting note of the night, however, was of Anthony Collins and Nate Livings making their NFL debut in a setting comparable to Helms Deep. The rookies held up surprisingly well and raise questions about the future of this offensive line.



As an astute mailman once pointed out to me, Levi Jones has never been the same since he was attacked by Joey Porter’s goons in Vegas. His health has been a consistent concern (though he has played games under some severe circumstances), and quite frankly, he’s slow. There are some who feel that Levi has never been that special and hasn’t deserved his previous pro-bowl consideration or the contract extensions he’s been offered. I won’t belabor the point about the ruinous decision of releasing Willie any longer, but since we all have to live with that mistake, does it not make sense to continue without Levi as well?

Now is an opportunity to test drive Collins as our starting left tackle. Next we host Baltimore, another gritty 3-4 defense that will apply some heat on the youngster. Might as well throw him into the flames while we’re irrelevant.

Another mildly encouraging sign is the play of Andre Caldwell. All I want this year for Christmas is for him to become the replacement for Glen Holt. Caldwell has shown that he can potentially return kicks and run decent routes, while Holt has shown us how to fumble kickoffs and drop passes. One would think the transition of the two would be a no-brainer, but that is specifically what’s wrong with this franchise: it too is a no-brainer.

I thought our only attempt at the wildcat formation was the perfect example of how we do things around here. We line up Cedric Benson - not the proven open field runner, Kenny Watson, or the sometimes flashy Chris Perry - in the shotgun, Daniel Coates - a man who couldn’t out maneuver a garbage can - next to Benson and Fitzpatrick - sadly, the most dangerous of the three - split out wide. Now that’s comedy. And the result? A four yard run up the gut. Man, are we hilarious sometimes or what?


Mojokong - Why is our media asking John Thornton about Chad Johnson?

LeBeau the Terrible

The Pittsburgh Steeler defense is not a gang. We Americans like to label groups of ruffians or hooligans as gangs. No sir, these guys dressed in black and gold, accented with an occasional blood splatter, are more of a band of tactical assassins. They may appear as dangerously reckless thugs who are aching to unleash their hostility on the closest adversary, but the real danger lies in the precision of their attack. At the helm of this methodical butchery, sitting quietly and hardly noticed behind a steel curtain, is a small, withered man in his seventies devising a blitz scheme that will someday bring the world to its knees. He is Dick LeBeau and he may be the most important man in the NFL.

LeBeau has lurked around the league for five decades, picking up pieces of his master plan here and there along the way. He is more than an innovator because his experiments are never complete. He devises a great and horrific zone blitz, tests it out on unfortunate subjects like the Bengals, and carefully catalogs the severe repercussions it has on ailing offenses. Not only that, but a useful byproduct of his weaponry is the intimidation and the destruction of morale an entire city can feel for generations.

And what better place for an evil headquarters where LeBeau can work undisturbed than Pittsburgh? A place that has historically produced so much gridiron carnage that Hans Blix might wanna take a peak behind that famous curtain of theirs. In the mid 90's, he showed off his new zone blitz that football people everywhere agreed was potentially catastrophic. He used outside linebackers Kevin Greene and Greg Lloyd as pass-rushing cruise missals, while employing the biggest middle-linebacker in recent memory, Levon Kirkland (280 lbs.), as a roaming run-stuffer with shoulder pads the size of sewer lids. They had more than teeth, they had venom. And it nearly produced a Super Bowl in 1995, falling short to a legandary Cowboys team.

Meanwhile, offensive coordinators everywhere pulled all-nighters inside the bowels of football arenas, staring blankly at chalkboards, trying to look “outside-the-box” on ways to counter this recent threat posed by LeBeau’s henchman. Once they finally crawled out into the sunlight, convinced they’d come up with a solution, to their horror, they saw that LaBeau had been working too, and that now he’d changed everything on them overnight. No longer were the outside linebackers needed to collect sacks. Instead, blitzes came from any and every player, and opposing coaches went stark raving mad trying to keep pace. The Steelers lost a tough game to another legendary team, this time to the Denver Broncos, in the 1997 AFC Conference game, 24-21.

Then something strange happened: LeBeau came here to Cincinnati. Perhaps he wanted a challenge, or maybe he had to prove something to himself. Maybe he just needed a change of scenery (though Cincinnati looks a lot like Pittsburgh), I don’t know. Whatever the reason, it didn’t work out. LeBeau couldn’t work in this environment. He lacked resources and was constantly interupted by a meddlesome owner. The success that seemed to manifest on its own for him in Pittsburgh, wasn’t happening in Cincinnati. Then, when finally he started getting results with his defense, Mike Brown appointed him as head coach upon Bruce Coslet’s abrupt departure, forcing Dick to focus on a broader task at hand, and failing miserably (12-33 as head coach).

Gone, but never far, LaBeau returned to the Steelers where they handed him back the keys to the laboratory where he previously made magic. LaBeau rolled up his sleeves and wasted little time in returning the Steeler defense to their ruthless ways of old. They’ve ranked as a top-10 defense - and first overall twice - since then.

It’s no different this year: number one in both rushing and passing defense, first in sacks, and allowing 15 points-per-game, good for second in the league. LeBeau has gone retro and returned to the ‘95 model of his scheme, now with LaMarr Woodley (9.5 sacks) and James Harrison (12) as his cruise missals. Not to mention that X-Men character of a strong safety, Troy Polamalu, stalking around the secondary like a predator on the plains of the Serengeti. Now with the Bengals lining up Thursday night weakened at left tackle due to injuries to Levi and Whitowrth, LaBeau is whipping his troops into a bloodthirsty frenzy, promising them the mayhem they crave.

I hope it rains that night in Pittsburgh. It would be a fitting addition to the cinematic horror we should all watch unfold. All we can hope for is that no one ends up seriously injured.

Damn you, LeBeau!!! We’ll get you someday!

Steelers 22, Bengals 6

Mojokong - To all bounty hunters: A favorable reward is offered for either of Hines Ward’s legs.

Let Off the Hook

The tie that left every baffled observer to wonder how such a gentlemanly ending is possible in this testosterone-charged sport was exactly the kind of ending the coaching staff strives for each week. They call plays in hopes of not losing. If they tell you they had planned to win that game, they’re lying.

Some examples:

Inside three minutes in the third quarter, Bengals ahead 13-10 with the ball on the Philadelphia 33, facing a fourth-and-16, what do they do? Three plays earlier in the drive, Whitworth left the game with a high ankle sprain. The following play resulted in a sack which put them in that difficult fourth down conundrum in the first place. What did they do? They went for it. And failed.

Can Shayne Graham not make a 50 yard field goal? Was it the wind? How about Kyle Larson? You can’t tell me he isn’t incapable of punting it short because we’ve witnessed him muff plenty of them over the season. How about a pooch-punt? Do we even practice this stuff? Going for it makes the least sense of all the possibilities one can conjure up.

Now we’re in overtime and the Bengals are actually driving. After two crappy run calls up the gut for- you guessed it - a minimal gain, Cincinnati is looking at third-and-seven on the Eagles 47 yard line. Fitzpatrick has looked good throwing out of the shotgun since his two-minute drill touchdown drive before halftime. Only this time, we’re not in the shotgun and Kenny Watson is in the backfield for the first time all game. What do we do this time? Naturally, a toss play for no gain. And then punt...in overtime!!?

Not to worry. With the defense playing like the ‘85 Bears and the Eagles punter kicking like he’s been paid off to throw the game, we get the ball back at the Eagle’s 41 yard line with time ticking down. Still throwing well out of the shotgun (plus a questionable roughing the passer call), Fitzpatrick finds his team at a comfy 29 yard line and nestling into decent field goal range. Still, we could use another eight to 12 yards to feel better about our chances. After all, the coaching staff couldn’t believe in Graham’s leg at 50 yards, so why would they feel confident at 48? What do we do? We run up the gut for zero yards. Graham trots onto the field, kicks....wide right, and no one goes home happy.

So now we’re at the post-game press conference with Marvin Lewis. The local media asks their usual stupid and pointless questions, like how it feels to finish a game tied, or ask him to comment on the play of newcomers Chris Crocker and Pat Sims. Then, finally, someone addresses the decision to run on third and seven in overtime, and all Marvin does is confirm that, “Yes, that was the play that was called.” The rest of the reporters take the hint and move on to more pointless inquiries about if he thought Rucker was in the end zone on his fumble recovery or ask him to talk about what a great game Housh had.

Where’s the media pressure put on a smiling, sarcastic, and most importantly, losing head coach? How does Lewis get off the hook without answering the tough questions? Why are the professionals who write the articles, blogs and columns about this godforsaken franchise constantly skating around the real issues at hand?

Marvin condescends the Cincinnati media like naive children and they all sit there and take it. It’s no wonder he feels so secure up there on the podium, defending his decision making that has put this team in the hunt for worst franchise in professional sports. One of the necessary roles the media is supposed to fulfill is of a watchdog to the injustices in the systems they write about - whether it be in politics, business practice, and yes, even in sports.

Big ups to who-dey revolution for taking matters into their own hands by instigating and apparently accomplishing a concession boycott of Paul Brown Stadium yesterday. Here is a grassroots organization who is making national headlines by taking a stand against a despotic owner who only has his own financial interest in mind.. I encourage all to join the revolution

Mojokong - swimming in piss and vinegar

Allow Me To Dampen Your Enthusiasm, And Eat Your Brains

So how’s it going to be?

Expecting big things Sunday from the jalopy that’s parked in the giant, circular building along the riverbanks? Still riding the wave of relief of the first win that washed over the city two weeks ago? Or, are you considering maybe swallowing a xanax tomorrow morning to hopefully forget the oncoming onslaught you foresee swooping into Paul Brown Stadium?

As for me, well, I’m no dummy. Last game only helped prevent the Bengals from having their league membership revoked for next season. We at least beat somebody, which, sadly, is more than Detroit can say. And while I won’t necessarily rely on anxiety medication to get me through a likely dreary day best spent in and out of consciousness and doing laundry, I will, in fact, prepare for a gruesome three-hour ass-kicking by one very jaded Eagles squad. The tough loss to the Giants Sunday night didn’t hurt them, it just really pissed them off. They were bullied by a divisional rival at home, and now their looking to exert authority over the closest object in reach, (gulp) us.

But screw it, right? Abusing the Bengals is like defacing a tree stump. They’re zombies who have been dead for a while, but annoyingly keep getting back up after you’ve shot them a couple of times. It’s not going away until New Years and all that can be gained now is scaring a few teams, and, hopefully, turn a few into zombies with us.

It’s alright if you no longer care what happens. After all, you still have a life to lead. But there are some of us sadomasochists who can’t turn away from the gore and the violence, no matter what. And when we get even a morsel of victory, it feeds the addiction for a couple more weeks. It’s sick and depraved, and arguably a waste of time, but like I said, screw it, right?

On to the game.

McNabb reminds me of Rothlesburger in the facts that they're both hard to tackle and both seem almost better, or at least more comfortable, when flushed out of the pocket. McNabb doesn’t mind scrambling for first downs and isn’t one to slide if he doesn’t feel his life’s in danger. He’s got a better-than-average offensive line (zero sacks against a strong Giants pass rush), and can see receivers get open down field from another zip code. The Bengals’ pass rush needs to make it count when they’re lucky enough to get a hand on him. With no pressure put on McNabb, he likely ends up the fantasy football stud of Week 11.

Brian Westbrook is an enigmatic player that defenses have been trying to figure out his whole pro career. He can catch, he can run, he can block, he can return kicks if that’s what you need (this won’t happen tomorrow, I’m just sayin’). Zimmer would be smart to look at how the Giants kept him to 26 yards on 13 carries. The Bengals have nowhere near the personnel Giants’ defensive coordinator Steve Spagnola enjoys, but a solid game plan is worth emulating if its proven to work in the past. As pretty much always, I’d blitz often and hope that an inexperienced receiving corps doesn’t kill us. Plug the gaps with blitzers against the run and emphasize to those who are not, how important covering the tight ends and tailbacks will be. If you blitz, you gotta live with someone alone in man-to-man coverage, and for tomorrow’s scheme, that means leaving our pair of first-round corners on islands against the so-so Philly receivers. It’s a gamble of sorts, but again, screw it.

On offense, nothing changes. Stick with the West Coast scheme of a lot of short passes and delayed hand offs. Neutralize the blood thirsty blitz scheme of mad scientist and defensive coordinator, Jim Jones, and his number one gun, local star, Trent Cole, with the three to five step drops that Fitzpatrick fell into a rhythm with last week. Benson looks comfortable getting the ball in his hands a moment after the line has shown what its going to do, as opposed to running with his head down into the mash of the two lines fighting for supremacy - a la Rudi Johnson and Chris Perry, typically for a minimal gain. Hopefully Fitzy has watched tape of mediocre Bengal legend Jeff Blake on how to throw a proper deep ball. In theory, he’s bound to complete one sooner or later, so don’t stop giving it a shot every now and again.

With at least a very crude blueprint carved out by our kindergarten coaching staff, we at least know what can sometimes work with the players we’re throwing out there these days. Having two weeks off and a win streak intact has made me curiously optimistic. But I’m still no dummy.

Eagles 26, Bengals 17


Mojokong - Braaaaiiiinnss!!!!

AFC Overview

2008 grinds on with the physically toughest teams leading there divisions (excluding the NFC West and the AFC West, which are as soft as pancake batter). The Indianapolis win in Pittsburgh last Sunday is the most noteworthy victory of the season where a glitz and glamour team beat a grindhouse team. I still can’t believe they pulled it out.

The New England Patriots are doing it again!! What is with this team? They lose a different key player for the year each week but carry on undeterred. They manhandled a physical but crumbling Buffalo team last week with, what else? defense and ball control. It doesn’t matter who the Patriots employ, as long as Bill “The Bum” Belichick runs that enterprise, they’re the team to emulate. Every year I wish awful things upon New England and this year I had hoped my bad juju worked, but who am I kidding? It seems I just won’t learn my lesson with those guys.

Tennessee is bad to the bone. Many skeptics were at least momentarily silenced after watching the Titan running attack struggle and Kerry Collins throw it 41 times without getting picked. The defense packs a serous wallop and they don’t disguise their mack truck style. They will punch you in the face until you don’t get up, and man, is it working. They aren’t going to run the table and will be humbled by a couple of teams before we head into January, but they’ll be waiting for the NFC contender in the end.

Baltimore is pretty similar to Tennessee. Flacco, like Collins, has proven himself to a lot of nay-sayers. Ray Lewis appears be improving (terrifying), and the other veterans on defense know what it takes to walk away from a cage match still breathing and all of its limbs intact. Look for Todd Heap to have a big second half of the season. He’s been uncharacteristically dormant so far, but he’s too good to be ignored altogether. This week’s game against the NYG promises to be a bloody affair. Don’t be shocked to see the Giants get stunned by a surprise uppercut.

The Colts are another team in which I’ve harbored serious doubts in. Peyton is good enough to put Indy into the playoff conversation, but I don’t see them cracking into the dance when it’s all said and done. They’re not a physical team at all, ranking last in the league in rushing and 24th in stopping the run. An easier second half schedule still might not be enough for a team who lacks backbone, but damn is it an easy schedule (Detroit, Cincinnati, Houston, Cleveland). Former Bengal castaway Keiwan Ratliff can’t play every week as well as he did against the Steelers.

Look out for the Jets. Humongous defensive tackle, Kris Jenkins, may be the most important free-agent acquisition of the season. Mangenius has built a nasty defense through free-agency with pick-ups like Jenkins and linebacker Calvin Pace, proving that great teams aren’t always built through the draft. With Favre slinging the ball around and Thomas Jones still out to prove to the world that he’s legitimate, they could win the AFC East, or at least land a wildcard spot. The Thursday game against the Pats will tell us a lot about their toughness.

Mojokong - The NFL has never been better, no matter what Paul Daugherty tells you.

Sinking In

Well, well. Looks like someone has been reading my blog.

Nine days ago, things made sense for the first time all year. The Bengals didn’t win because the cosmos aligned itself in just the right order. They didn’t win because they tried harder or got a good night’s rest the previous day. They won because they played to their strengths. The coaches seemed to finally recognize the giant hunk of clay that is their team, and formed it into something resembling a football team. It’s not quite Michelangelo’s David, but it’s a step up from McDonald’s Grimace.

The west coast offense was in full effect that day, with Fitzpatrick in the shotgun handing the ball to Benson on delays. No receiver caught a pass longer than 22 yards even though Fitzpatrick threw it 31 times. The short game coupled with the successful delayed running attack, drew the Jaguar defense in and Chad had a few shots deep that were all overthrown to him. No matter. The Bengals took care of business inside the redzone, and with the sensible play calling of Bratkowski (*gasp*), the offense dictated the game converting an astonishing 20 first downs.

Enjoying the respite most defenses have grown accustom to around the league, the Bengals unit looked refreshed and aggressive, particularly in stopping the run - Jaguars had 68 yards rushing on 21 carries. The secondary redeemed itself in a big way after the Houston game where they seemingly gave up. Rookie defensive tackle Pat Sims continues to impress, and alleviates the sting of a wasted second-round pick. We even collected three sacks and applied consistent pressure on Gerrard all day.

Still, the coaching staff sailed too far into the uncharted waters of playing with a lead and didn't know how to handle the situation. The old cautionary run-up-the-gut calls and short passes to Reggie Kelly resurfaced, and the offense stalled as a result. Then the fight broke out between the two giant ogres, Whitworth and Henderson, and negated a 23 yard first down completion. There were three penalties on the play: an illegal contact call against Jacksonville and the offsetting unsportsmanlike conduct calls. The illegal contact call somehow got lost in the shuffle of ejecting the sparring lineman and the Bengals were sacked on the next play, forcing a punt. A poor refereeing job if you ask me.

The defense got soft from that point on. No blitzing, no tight coverage. Just containment zones and cushiony man-to-man assignments. Playing it safe and relaxing with the lead is not what the great teams or the great coaches do. Going after the jugular and demanding animalistic intensity from their players throughout the entire game is more like it.

And then there’s Glen Holt. Why is he here? He’s worthless. A kick returner can be one of two things: a dynamic return man who may fumble but may break one for a score, or a consistent returner who isn’t scoring touchdowns, but never fumbles. Holt is neither, and wouldn’t have a place on any other team in the NFL. He’s exactly the kind of dead weight that is sinking this ship.

All in all, we seemed to have grown up a little bit. It’s only one game, but even an adolescent Bengals team is a step up from the infantile squad we’ve suffered through all season.

Mojokong - Only you can prevent forest fires.