Ashes to Ashes

He is the Phoenix.

On game days, T.J. Houshmandzedah burns with a wild intensity which consumes him regardless of the outcome, but each week he is reborn and prepared to sacrifice himself again. His powers are calculated but annihilating, and he’s wise with the expenditure of this terrific and devouring force he possesses.

Considering such a unique and complex person, it’s difficult not to swell up with conflicting emotions when one thinks of his future.

On one hand, he has been a loyal, mostly supportive member of the Bengals, who’s leadership has helped stabilize the culture of the team. He has maintained the highest level of professionalism throughout the past six years and is an example of the dividends one can gain from sheer work ethic. His football intellect is unrivaled, often articulating the nuances of the game more effectively than could any coach or analyst. He’s an honest person who is aware of the consequences the truth can incur, yet he carries on explaining the flat reality of situations rather than walk a company line or speak out in code; a decision some of his teammates have made in the past. Housh would make a tremendous coach (a more cunning Herm Edwards comes to mind if pressed for a comparison), but he’s still a pro-bowl caliber player and can provide a team with both mind and body: Who wouldn’t want a guy like that?

That said, he shouldn’t be subjected to more rebuilding and more losing. He’s paid his dues; Mike Brown deserves to give him a chance at the post-season promised land in a place where he may actually achieve such a thing. It’s not gonna happen here for another five years, at least, and T.J.’s not getting younger. Concussions are a hell of a thing and aren’t recommended as a collector’s item – anybody whose heard Riddick Bowe speak knows the real dangers of repeated blows to the head. A person can’t run routes across the middle forever, ya know.

Housh is the only Bengal who could fit into any other offense immediately. His skills-set allows him to work his craft without worrying about being fast or being tall or being big. Quarterbacks like the guys who run nice routes and catch the ball; GM’s and fans like the guys who run fast, and are big and strong. If he made his way to Philly as the rumor mill has grumbled recently, it would be like giving McNabb the bicycle he’d always wanted for Christmas. They would become bosom buddies, two pees in a pod, throwing and catching and throwing and catching, all Sunday long. Housh could be happy there.

Alas, that is not the way of the Phoenix and it only makes sense that he’ll be franchise-tagged, report to training camp and rise again from the ashes of losing. A more fitting destiny for such a mythical beast simply is not possible.

Mojokong – “while the phoenix outlives nine ravens”, Hesiod c. 700 BCE