2009 Season Review: Part Two

It would still have to be earned of course; the Bengals knew the division wouldn't just lay down in a fit of confusion and simply hand the AFC North over to them. The Steelers were beaten and Baltimore awaited, but a trip to Cleveland was sandwiched in between the two and many sensed a trap-game in the making; they were nearly right.

It shouldn't have been close. Once Robert Geathers skirted down the sideline and into the endzone after grabbing a stripped fumble and giving the Bengals a two touchdown lead, that should have been the end to the excitement that day. It would have been a three-possession lead as well, but on the Bengals' first drive Brad St. Louis snapped the ball high on a field-goal attempt and that grotesque sea-monster, Sean Rogers, blocked his first kick of the day. It proved to be another long day for special teams.

The Bengals saw their lead vanish and fell behind 17-14 after four horrendous second-half possessions: a botched pump-fake that forced a punt, a fumbled kickoff, then two three-and-outs. The Browns kicked another field goal before something finally went right.

It was third and 13 and things were looking rough for Cincinnati in the Dawg Pound. There were just over six minutes left and a loss would have been painfully sobering to the Bengals and their supporters. A seam route to Chris Henry gave the Bengals a first down and a burst of fresh air to breathe. Carson Palmer ended the drive with an improvised touchdown toss to Andre Caldwell across the middle of the end-zone to tie the game with minimal time left on the clock. All St. Louis had to do was not screw it up and the Bengals would win.

He failed.

Overtime was a maddening affair that came down to another harrowing moment, which saw Palmer scramble on fourth and 10 and give Cincinnati a chance to end the tie with a minute remaining. Shayne Graham certainly got the kick off, but whether it went through the uprights remains in doubt. Regardless, the kick was ruled good and the Bengals barley escaped.

Heading into Episode III of the Bengals saga through the AFC North, Cincinnati were rightfully feeling pretty good. They gained an advantage on two of the three other divisional teams and Baltimore was next on the schedule. The team at that point showed physical toughness, the ability to perform in the clutch and were really flying high in that early stretch of the season.

Then Mike Zimmer's wife, Vikki, died suddenly and there was nothing to feel good about anymore. Nonetheless, the team rallied to support Zim and the affect of that support will likely never be lost to those who lived it.

The enriched relationship that Mike Zimmer and his players cultivated during the season, and especially in the week his wife passed, from the outside appeared to transcend that of the typical player/coach relationship and into the realm of true friendship between men. The fact that he signed a contract extension to stay in Cincinnati within days of the Bengals' last game---when his name was hot in the coaching rumor-mill no less---to me justifies the claim that he shares a special level of respect with this group and simply has no desire to coach anyone else right now. In today's day and age, I think that's a beautiful thing.

The game itself became secondary but it was still scheduled and would be played, personal tragedy or not. The players predictably dedicated the game to Vikki Zimmer's honor and returned to the locker room three and a half hours after they'd left it, tearful and euphoric from another thrilling win.

Overcoming Baltimore is always a brutish task. With the Bengals entrenched in their run-first attack that fans had begun to accept a little bit, and Baltimore experimenting with its new offense that featured Flacco throwing more than a year before, the wizards were unsure of what to expect.

What they saw was another close call, but a victory all the same. Aided by two crucial Raven penalties in the last drive (and a slightly overthrown deep ball to Mark Clayton on the preceding Baltimore drive), the Bengals again overcame enough obstacles in a battle of wills to avoid the fatal mistake and force the opposition into one of their own. Even with another St. Louis meltdown on the Bengals' opening drive, a pick-six thrown to Ed Reed early in the first half, and a missed tackle to allow Ray Rice to rumble to pay-dirt, Cincinnati still pulled it together in the end to give Zimmer and his family a speck of happiness in an otherwise troubled time.

The team pulled through a tough week and so did Zimmer, each feeling better about things after winning four tough games in a row. The primary goal of winning the division was moving along swimmingly, but as history tells it, the non-divisional teams would be the Bengals undoing.

Mojokong---the truth is never rushed.

Playoff Party--Conference Championship: The Straggler

The hour is now very late and Indianapolis is tired and just wants to go to bed. The cops came, twice. San Diego was arrested for possession, Baltimore left in a tirade of insults and even threw a rock at the front door, and many of Indy's ceramic kitty cats lay in pieces on the floor. In a fruitless effort to tidy up the place, Indy busies itself hoping New York will take the hint and finally leave. Fat chance.

“Why don't these teams respect me, Indy? How many ass whoopens is it going to take before I start getting a little cred around here?” New York asks, breaking a long and uncomfortable silence.

Indianapolis sighs.

“I don't know, NY, maybe because you're young and never do well at these parties.”

“Hey! What do you mean don't do well?” New York stands up and keeps a hand on its chair.

“I mean, you usually rub somebody the wrong way and get tossed, if you even get invited at all. Believe me, New York, things are a lot more quiet the years you don't show up. You never stop running that incessant mouth of yours, never,” Indianapolis says, growing more impatient.

“What'chu say about my mouth?” New York asks puffing up its chest.

“Just get out of my house, New York!” screams Indy bracing for another fight.

“Make me.”

These parties are evolution at work; the last ones there exhibit the necessary combination of strength, endurance and the ability to adapt to the unknown. They adapt to the unexpected variables of the NFL Playoffs.

The Colts are a strong team because they swell with talent, especially on offense. Their attack is so refined, so complex and efficient, that defenses must play a perfect game to win. The old saying goes that nobody's perfect; never mind 11 guys together trying to achieve perfection.

While Peyton Manning is in fact a human like anyone else and capable of a poor performance at any given time, he's as close to a robotic accuracy as any quarterback to ever play the game. His reads, his presence and his throws are unparalleled in the league and would make any team an immediate contender. Add the fact he's on a team with weapons all around him and in the end, it just doesn't seem fair.

That's what the Jets face Sunday; arguably the best quarterback ever at the top of his game with the Super Bowl on the line. Scary.

Then there's the deluge of good luck New York has enjoyed this winter; when will it dry up? They were given a backstage pass to the Playoffs in their last two games, soared higher and higher on fate's wings after each missed field goal and now find themselves 60 game-minutes away from the Big Enchilada; has Karma reversed the Jets' fortunes?

No.

First, in due respect, lest New York find me and beat me to a pulp, the Jets are an impressive team. Their defense is one of those units that should have a fearsome nickname (might I recommend Ryan's Green Lions, or something), and their running game is fun to watch as it storms over linebackers in the second tier of the defense. The Jets brain-trust continues to out-plan its opponents, keeping rookie Mark Sanchez from committing the back-breaking mistake, and consistently frustrating enemy offenses with stealthy safety blitzes and dominant pass coverage. Darrelle Revis is a special player; a true game-changer that electrifies fans from the defensive side---something not easily accomplished. He not only has tremendous athletic ability, he has the rare game instincts of an Ed Reed; Revis is the best defensive player in the game (sorry Charles Woodson).

Not even this kind of defensive star-power, however, can take down Indianapolis. The Colts just finished Baltimore's run with little problems and the Ravens have lots of talent on D themselves. Perhaps if New York can score more touchdowns than they're used to they may have a shot, but expecting a low-scoring, grind-house game in the AFC Championship is likely amiss.

Colts 28, Jets 13

Mojokong---nobody's perfect.

2009 Season Review: Part One

In order to fully appreciate the 2009 season for the Cincinnati Bengals, one must remember back to the season before. Halfway through, the Bengals were still winless, had lost their starting quarterback to a bum elbow and were ranked dead last in offense. Bright spots were few and distant and there was not much to cheer about on Autumn Sundays around the Queen City.

After a thorough drubbing in Indianapolis, their record fell to 1-11-1 and the team stood in a bottomless pit of losing and ineptitude. From the outside, it appeared that the organization had slipped back into the miserable depths of the 90s and simply couldn't sustain itself enough to succeed.

And then something happened.

Following that game, Cincinnati showed a physical toughness that wasn't there before. Suddenly they looked competitive; they looked stronger. They won their last three games, but more importantly they saved a few key shreds of dignity that would carry over and prove instrumental to the success of the next season---Marvin Lewis began working toward his 2009 AP Coach-of-the-Year award in the locker room following that loss to the Colts.

The team's moves in Free Agency were sensible and approved by nearly everyone who had an opinion on the matter. Dallas castoffs Tank Johnson and Roy Williams returned to the Zimmer Gang where they blended seamlessly into the rotation. Each player would later suffer injuries, but both tried battling through them---Roy's damaged forearm proved too fragile and he was shelved after a few weeks. The standard of toughness was reinforced by bringing in surly vets like these two guys.

Another player the Bengals expected toughness and grit from was receiver Laveranues Coles, a smaller guy known for reliability and consistency. With the loss of T.J. Houshmandzadeh to the Seahawks, Cincinnati figured Coles would fill some of the void left by Housh; they were wrong. The only thing Coles proved to do well was give lots of effort on his blocks. From my angle, he ran unimpressive routes, showed little separation ability and dropped too many passes. His inability to produce contributed mightily to the passing struggles that ultimately doomed the Bengals. I don't blame the team for signing Coles---it made sense at the time---but it goes to show the dangers of relying on free agents to patch team needs.

The Draft was much better. Even though top pick Andre Smith failed to seriously contribute until late in the season, other picks like Rey Maualuga, Michael “Giraffe” Johnson, and Morgan Trent all had big roles on a top-5 defense. The inactivity of tight end Chase Coffman became a point of frustration for the fans who watched the passing game limp along without giving the rookie a shot. Eventually the team disclosed that Coffman had bone-spurs in his ankle. He had surgery to remove them and he was placed on IR without seeing any game action.

By May, the Bengals and their fans liked the team on paper. It appeared that instead of accumulating random talent and hoping for the best, the team had a blueprint in mind and crafted their men around it. Finally, an identity was forming. The Bengals would not be pretty but they would be rugged, and that proved good enough to play a 17th game this season.

The primary goal of the season became winning the Division. Marvin talked openly about doing that and allowing everything else to fall into place. With the front end of the schedule heavier on divisional games, it made sense to emphasize a team goal that, in theory, would provide a postseason appearance and a good start to the season to boost player morale early on. This concentration, this focal point of all the team's effort, may have actually become a drawback once the team did win the AFC North; after all, everything after that was just a bonus to them.

After the first week of the regular season, the city was already devastated. A weird deflection to Brandon Stokely on a desperation play at the tail end of the game prevented the Bengals from sealing up a tough win at home against the Broncos. The players and coaches put on a good game face afterward but they had to feel completely deflated after a freak occurrence like that. The fans were less professional about handling their emotions and already calling for Marvin’s job; the season had been rendered useless. One of the lessons learned this year from the Bengals’ season is how reactionary fans and the media are to every week's outcome.

I felt encouraged by what I saw in Week 1. I saw a team that looked limited but forceful. The defense was in control for 59:30 of that game. Cedric Benson didn't explode against Denver, but already one could detect the commitment to the ground attack as he wore down the Broncos defense by the fourth quarter. It was also the first example of Carson Palmer leading the offense down the field for a late go-ahead score. I liked the game plan prepared and it would have worked too had it not been for that pesky tip.

The next week had the Bengals traveling to the hallowed ground of Lambeau Field to take out their frustrations from the week before on an explosive but vulnerable Packers team. Maualuga demonstrated game-changing ability with sacks and forced fumbles and Antwan Odom devoured a second-string offensive tackle and collected five sacks on the day. Quan Cosby had two important punt-returns and the offense found rhythm in the second half. The team looked good; optimism returned.

Then came the unthinkable.

Throughout the country in Week 3, NFL talking heads began sniffing the Bengals and smelling something they liked. Not many were ready to pick them over the defending Super-Bowl champion Steelers at home, but most suspected that it would be a decent game nonetheless.

It didn't start out that way. From the opening the Bengals weren't sharp. The defense let interceptions bounce off of them and had a hard time tackling Willie Parker. The tame but ruinous madness of long-snapper Brad St. Louis had permanently set in causing a botched extra-point and forcing the Bengals to go for two later in the game.

It didn't look good, but miracles were afoot. The first instance of the Bengals good luck in that game happened when Limas Sweed dropped a sure touchdown. The next was when Jeff Reed missed a 52-yard field goal. Then came that legendary leap on fourth and 10 that Brian Leonard managed by a tremendous second-effort, followed by perhaps the best play-design all season with the two-point conversion to Leonard.

In a flash, another hopeless defeat by the annual bully turned into a gilded-edged classic of a tale about how the rough and tumble Bengals vanquished their divisional nemesis and turned the tide of the AFC North supremacy.

Mojokong---never forget.

Playoff Party--Divisional Round: Indy's Ugly Drapes

The crowd has thinned out a bit since Cincinnati was forcibly escorted from the premises by an extra angry New York, and New England has gone home early after Baltimore offended it when it said how old and tired it looked.

I think Baltimore may have even insinuated that New England might have some weird sickness, or something. It said loudly to where all the other guests could hear that New England appeared gray and should get looked at by a specialist. Everyone sniggered, New England turned from gray to red, and stormed out crying.

Most there agreed how much better the place smelled after New York tossed Cincinnati back to the bus-stop that it spends so much of its time huddled around, but afterward NY couldn't stop talking about it.

“That bum can't eff with me,” New York repeated. “I'll take care of it every single time. Think it can come up in here without asking me first? Better not disrespect me. I'll bust you up.”

It performed a bit of shadowboxing to demonstrate its toughness.

“Yes, we get it,” San Diego said as it tilted its '80's sunglasses to the bridge of its nose and looked New York in its eye. “You took out a team that carries food in its inside jacket-pocket and argues with itself. Very impressive.”

“What? You want some too, Cali?” asked New York and slicked back a strand of loose hair. “Better not disrespect me. I'll---”

“Bust me up, so I've heard. Listen, tough guy, the key to sticking around a place like this is with actions not words. If you really wanna get down, I have no problem with that. I'm just here to party.”

“Bring it then, Sun Tan,” said New York and unzipped its velour jacket once again.

San Diego smiled, pushed its glasses back up, swallowed something from its pocket, and sat down to remove its roller-skates. “You have no idea what you're in for, tough guy. Not even that big mouth of yours can save you now.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

Meanwhile, Indianapolis and Baltimore became a little heated themselves. Apparently Baltimore, feeling hypercritical this year, started in on Indy's interior-decorating sense. Indy was taken back with the remarks.

“My drapes are NOT ugly!” Indianapolis exploded and pushed Baltimore. “this is my place, buddy. You can go at anytime.”

Baltimore said nothing, but charged at Indy with both fists ablaze. Indy braced itself.

And so it goes.

Even though our Bengals are comfortably in their homes now, the remaining match-ups are well worth watching. This weekend's games will be something of a litmus test for the theory that insists the current NFL is a passing league and that a high-octane offense is the key to this postseason.

If the theory proves true, then Peyton Manning and Phillip Rivers will carve up their respective opponents through the air this week and try to out-lob one another with deep bombs and hand-grenades the following week. The football wizards of the world are convinced that this is how it will all play out, but, being me, I naturally disagree.

It's no secret that I have a real soft-spot for the bull-dozing, smash-mouth style of play. I love watching a team bruise the other into submission and win with field-goals at the end of the game; it's a style I've coined as Grind-House Football.

Both AFC Wild-Card teams fit the Grind-House mold.

Last year, the Ravens were the perfect example of such a team. Joe Flacco was still too young to shoulder a heavy passing load, and they ran three running backs as many times as possible. They have always had a strong defense, and the mixture of all of their toughness led them to a 13-3 record and an appearance in the AFC Championship game.

This year, they relied more on Flacco and he has responded with a solid season for the Ravens. Scat-back Ray Rice has jitterbugged his way to a Pro-Bowl year and when Willis McGahee is spotted with the ball, he too still looks pretty effective. Their defense has the same game-changing players that so many teams wished they employed. When an offense looks across the field and sees Ray Lewis, Haloti Ngata, Terrell Suggs and Ed Reed they second-guess their approach and immediately relinquish any kind of advantage they started with. You could see it last week; Tom Brady was pounced on before he had time to think about what was happening.

This week, however, is the ultimate test. You don't bet against Peyton Manning; it's a steadfast rule that plays the percentages. But the Ravens played Indy tough earlier this year and won't be awed by the importance of the moment. Both of these teams are Playoff perennials and know what it takes to advance.

The Colts will try to shell Baltimore with it's heavy artillery but the Ravens are built for the long haul and can absorb some of Indy's attack. The key for Baltimore is sitting on the ball with long, sustained drives that end with points---even field goals. Indianapolis relies on the services of its two formidable pass-rushing ends, Dwight Freeney and Robert Mathis, and hopes to put Flacco in numerous passing situations throughout the day.

The more Ray Rice is involved, the better. Rice is another one of those short and stocky backs that have become so fashionable in the league; the kind who are hard to tackle and can rip off large chunks of yardage on any play. With a mediocre set of receivers, Rice is without a doubt Baltimore's most explosive weapon offensively.

New York's strategy is pretty similar to Baltimore's: run the ball, use clock, keep Rivers on the sideline, limit explosive plays. The biggest difference between the two underdogs though is that Baltimore is a better passing team when they need to be. The Jets' coaching staff is top-notch right now and effectively kept Mark Sanchez in the background last week against the Bengals. Offensive coordinator Brian Schottenheimer hopes to repeat that game plan or else be subjected to the rookie quarterback's inexperience.

The good news for New York is that the Chargers are not an impressive run defense. If the offensive line led by that terrific left side of D'Brickashaw Ferguson, Alan Faneca and Nick Mangold, can devour defenders like they did last week, the Jets can win. If Rex Ryan can continue to call perfectly timed and well-crafted blitzes to force punts, or even better, turnovers, the Jets can win. Even though most refuse to admit the possibility, the Jets can win.

San Diego is the NFL's designer drug this January and all the wizards seem to be ingesting handfuls of the stuff. They do have many shiny parts and they haven't looked back since catching fire in the middle of the season, but they lack a certain grittiness that keeps me from anointing them as the league's second coming. From a distance they look like the Colts, but don't be fooled; Rivers is good, but Manning he is not.

Therefore both match-ups should play out in similar fashion. If the Grind-House teams play to their Grind-House strengths at least one of them will win. If the aerial attacks prove to be the difference, both favorites will advance to the Championship game.

Colts 31, Ravens 20

Jets 23, Chargers 17


Mojokong---aw, man, the Bengals ate all the hors d'oeuvres!

2009 Epilogue: Chin Up, Bengal Fan

So as we all put on our coats and hats and head for the door, let us not leave with heavy hearts and troubled minds. Instead of carrying with us the disappointment of the loss that ended it all, replace that mental burden with the pride of witnessing your favorite team earn an extra game this season. While there remain plenty of things for us to nitpick over during the off-season, there's one fact that no one can argue against: the Cincinnati Bengals gave it their all in 2009.

Most of us didn't realistically expect them to win the division. We assumed they could better the nightmare of the previous year's campaign, but a few serious residual problems were presumed to still exist. After beating Green Bay and Pittsburgh, a little optimism blew into the Queen City and before long, the Playoffs became a mere certainty.

The fans and media weren't totally sure what was happening and apparently neither was the rest of the AFC North. The primary goal was to take care of the division, which the Bengals encountered zero problems achieving. They survived a sneaky Cleveland team, toughened up against a brawny Ravens squad and slayed the Steelers Dragon; their journey through the division could have been written by the Brothers Grimm themselves.

Unsung heroes like Brian Leonard, Andre Caldwell and Frostee Rucker sprung to life in legendary moments that will forever be cemented in Bengal lore. A no-name offensive line---once thought to be the team's Achilles heal---simply muscled their way into the limelight. A cornerback tandem not typically grouped with the league's elite have since earned their names mentioned in such a discussion. Many facets within the organization not only improved beyond expectation, but quickly legitimized the team's status as a contender; something taken very seriously around these parts.

These are the moments to carry you through the Spring and Summer; the triumphs that shadow the drawbacks. Who knows how long the NFL, or even ourselves, will last? Another life-lesson that this season provided to the Bengals and their fans is that unpleasant yet necessary whiff of our own mortality. There's no time to celebrate more than the present, and after this season, we should all profoundly understand that fact.

Now go out into the cold as a happy Bengal fan. Smile upon those poor saps wearing black and gold; revel in their awkward January idleness. Root the Ravens to the Super Bowl---after all, we don't hate them, right? Enjoy March Madness, Baseball and the World Cup, and when it's time again, I'll be right here waiting.

Mojokong---to you, the readers. Without you, I'm just talking to myself.

Wild-Card Recap: Schott in Broad Daylight

It is a shame that from now on, whenever the image of Shayne Graham pops into the minds of Bengal fans, his boyscoutish face will burst into flames from their hatred and anger toward the man. No one wants to be reminded of his notable charity work or his hundreds of made kicks right now and for good reason, dammit; he didn't outright lose the game, but he eliminated Cincinnati from a chance to win in the postseason and that's a good enough reason to leave town in my book.

However, as decent human beings, before the torches are lit, before the pitchforks are seized from their place in the barns and rowdy crowds gather to chase Shayne Graham or anybody else out of town, let's take one moment to look at this whole thing analytically and reasonably.

First, It is impossible to ignore the fact that Carson Palmer was not at his best when we needed him the most. He was erratic all day on his throws, he threw a strange interception to Revis and he was not in sync with Chad Ochocinco on the limited times Palmer looked 85's way. Not only is Palmer the highest-paid Bengal, he is also the team captain and the face of the organization; as a local tax-payer---who in part funds the stadium where the man plays---it does not seem unreasonable that I demand more from the team's most-prized possession. Politics aside, Carson has to show up in the Playoffs if he's ever to become that storybook quarterback we all dreamed of in 2005.

Still, Palmer was not the main person responsible for the Bengals' Wild-Card loss either. No Bengal, in fact no player on either side, was more responsible for the outcome than was Jets offensive coordinator, Brian Schottenheimer.

The Bengals defense played the part of the sucker perfectly, walking right into three rudimentary traps. The first was the misdirection toss play to Shonn Greene. The Bengals had been loading up the box in attempt to slow the Jets rushing attack which just gashed Cincinnati for eight yards on first down. All 11 men were prepared to stop the run and all 11 were fooled. Only Frostee Rucker had a chance; he missed. Touchdown Jets.

The next two times were play-action, roll-out passes to tight end Dustin Keller. Again, the Bengals were determined to flow downhill and smash the running back, but Sanchez sold the fakes well and 10 more points ensued.

Schottenheimer is single-handedly credited with 17 points. New York had two other drives that were more traditional in nature: one right after the half where they should have scored a field goal but penalized themselves out of range, and the other that ended with a Thomas Jones 8-yard run in the third-quarter. Those drives were a collective effort of the entire offensive staff, but the others materialized into points from sheer strategical dominance by one assistant coach.

Rex Ryan gets some credit too. Sure the big guy has some great defensive players, but twice Rex dialed up a safety blitz that led to punts---both perfectly timed.

Mike Zimmer and Bob Bratkowski were each outsmarted. Outside of Brat's refusal to incorporate Bernard Scott in the offense, I didn't think his play-calling sequence was all that bad; drops, the receivers' inability to separate and get open, and Palmer's poor throwing performance were more responsible for the dismal offensive day than was Bratkowski in this case. Still, Ryan got the best of him, as have multiple defensive coordinators in the second half of the season.

The Jets are a good team. They have a road-grading offensive line that dominates in the running game, they have a top-notch secondary lead by a youngster who is playing at an all-world level, they are clearly led by excellent coaching, and their kicker makes kicks...and punts! There was no need to showcase their young, problematic quarterback. Their plan was to win without him, and for the most part, they did just that.

Success in the Playoffs will have to be a process for the Bengals. Since the hire of Marvin Lewis, the franchise has taken baby-steps into respectability; moving ahead into future Januaries isn't likely to be any different. Saturday's Wild-Card loss demonstrated all the deficiencies we fans worried about all season. The problems were too severe, the holes too great. Even the men who led this group were humbled by what took place; there are no adequate excuses for the outcome. It was a defeat in every way.

Mojokong---run, Shayne Graham. I can't hold them off much longer.

Wild-Card Preview: Lowbrows and Snowplows

The enthusiasm, the emotional build-up to Saturday's Wild-Card game is now completely out of hand. It's to the point that when I begin to think of the game, the faint tympani drums and violins of Sam Spence's orchestra and the NFL Films music creep into my subconscious. I can already see the slow-motion shots of a bundled up crowd breathing clouds of hot air onto each other and spilling the beers that those winter gloves have such a hard time grasping. It will be everything that January football should embody; brutal elements, a crazed and frostbitten crowd, and two teams with nothing to lose.

In fact, it might help to read the rest of this piece using the internal narration of the legendary voice of NFL Films: John Facenda.

Paul Brown Stadium will not be a soft or comfortable place for anyone on that day; single-digit point totals seem almost as likely as a single-digit windchill. The Bengals and the Jets are close cousins, each seeming to belong to the football version of the Neanderthal tribe. Their methods are basic: run the ball, play good defense, use clock, and win with field goals, but each is considered ill-equipped to deal with the advanced modern-man prototypes of San Diego or Indianapolis.

The cavemen then will clobber one another on Saturday until one of them can no longer stand up, and the winner will drag its club away to face their supposed evolutionary doom in a more pleasing climate.

As to the question of who's club is bigger between them, it depends on which end your looking at it from.

From the Jets end, it appears they are mightier in their strengths: a better ranked defense, a more productive ground attack, and a more reliable offensive line. Throw in the fact that New York just finished up mopping the deck with Bengals last week, and the Jets club looks pretty sizable indeed.

The Bengals, however, have the intangibles of a better quarterback and better receiving corps thanks to Chad Ochocinco alone. Everything the Jets are tops in Cincinnati ranks closely behind and the Bengals will enjoy an influx of healthy starters this week who sat in that forgettable event last Sunday night. Therefore, the Bengals seem to walk with a big stick too.

Choosing a winner in this game comes down to how much stock one puts into things like a rookie quarterback from California struggling in the cold, or an offense repeating a performance where they appeared completely bewildered just six days before.

Analytically speaking though, the Bengals have the edge because of Carson Palmer.

That seems like a ridiculous claim after watching the worst game of his pro career against these very same Jets, but he's the most disparaging advantage in the match-up on paper and in reality.

The running attack of each of these teams are too close to call. New York can point to numbers but from where I'm standing, the running game was effective enough to get both teams into the playoffs. The Bengals get a fresh Cedric Benson for the game---which certainly can't hurt their chances---and Bernard Scott can go back to being the complimentary back where he excels. If the game becomes a pound-the-run extravaganza like most expect, than even Larry Johnson would likely get some action. Cincinnati has the offensive personnel to win on the ground, they just need to show that they can do it.

Of course, there is a nightmarish force which threatens all of that. The Jets defense is a relentless wild boar standing in the way of Cincinnati achieving any of its offensive goals; it's angry and it's violent. Rex Ryan has his men eating gunpowder and LSD, and will once again whip them into a frenzy and unleash these hell hounds onto the field to smash the striped helmets standing along the other sideline. It's R-rated; 18 and over.

Their primary concern is stopping the run. They don't mind feeding their blitz addiction on any play and they trust General Revis and his secondary to go it alone against opposing receivers. Pass-protection will be key in this game. If Palmer has time, he can find Ochocinco who can still compete with Revis despite all that has happened this season. I also think Cincinnati likes the match-up of Andre Caldwell deep against Lito Sheppard. Marvin Lewis has said how impressed he's been with Caldwell's straight-line speed and if New York gives safety help to Chad's side, Caldwell could be in position to make a big play---something that will surely be a premium in this kind of game.

The supporting cast of Caldwell, Laveranues Coles and even J.P. Foschi, must make positive plays, especially on third down. Drops cannot occur, penalties need to be limited, interceptions have to be avoided. Self-imposed mistakes have been an unsightly blemish to this otherwise strong team all season long; a trait that does not exist within the repertoire of a champion. If the passing game is to strike much in this Wild-Card showdown, these secondary characters will have to share some of the spot light.

On the other side of things, the Jets offense is a bit more limited. They've relied heavily on the consistency of their running game and have employed creative ways to enhance it even further with the exotic plays ran by wide out, Brad Smith, as quarterback. Smith burned the Bengals badly last week on an option-keeper and looks right at home running the play typically reserved for the college ranks; he also ran it effectively against the Falcons and Colts in the preceding weeks. Over the course of the season, Cincinnati has held up well against the traditional running attacks, but have had a difficult time adjusting to anything considered gadgety or sneaky. Limiting explosive plays on the ground is the top priority for the Bengals defense this week.

The reason the Jets are limited is because of their passing game; they try to avoid it as much as they can. Everyone knows that it's a weakness, but teams have to fight through New York's running game to even get to that level of attack. Putting pressure on Mark Sanchez is an obvious goal for every defense that faces the Jets. He's a rookie having a rookie season, but he's surrounded with such a quality team that his inexperience and sometimes poor play has been shrouded some. The idea for the Bengals is to put Sanchez into throwing downs, apply heat on the blitz and allow a top-notch cornerback tandem to go to work. Turnovers will likely determine the outcome of this game the most, and the focus in that category will be on Sanchez.

Protecting Carson Palmer against the blitz and forcing third-and-medium scenarios on defense are the keys to a Bengal victory.

No one believes in either of these primitive teams and each are out to earn some respect. Brute force and a tolerance to the cold will play their parts, but the team who can strategically adapt will win the game. The Bengals have something like an opposable thumb and apparently a larger club, and therefore, they win and move on.

Bengals 20, Jets 9


Mojokong---riding my mastodon to the game this week.

Week 17 Recap: Look The Other Way

This game doesn't deserve a recap. If I were to put as much effort into it as the Bengals showed Sunday night, the whole piece would be this: they sucked.

Once greeted by a single-digit windchill and a raucous Jets crowd, the Bengals should have just turned around and come back to Cincinnati. They didn't want to play; I suppose I don't blame them, but they begrudgingly suited up anyway and got steamrolled for three distasteful hours.

Nothing went right. No one looked even decent. Maybe it was the ghosts of the Meadowland greats interfering with Cincinnati's attack in commemoration of the stadium's last game. Or maybe what we saw is the accumulation of 45 men who didn't care about the outcome. Either way I hope whatever it was has been removed from their systems.

Of course none of it mattered, but the Bengals did lose Pat Sims to a broken forearm and that hurts. He's our third best defensive fat guy, and Tank Johnson and Domata Peko can explain the significant of the team's third fat guy. Plus Sims is good. Like Maualuga, I allowed my expectations to soar in regards to Big Pat after a mighty preseason showing. While he has played well, he hasn't necessarily exploded this year, but he will be sorely missed. Nomadic fat guy, Shawn Smith, is a decent replacement but the rotation is a bit more shallow nonetheless; a costly casualty in a meaningless game is the worst kind of loss.

At least Pat had an excuse for the game; the other guys participated in a glorified walk-through. We learned a few more things about the Bengals in the process: our receivers apparently don't like catching a frozen football, tackling is sometimes optional and J.T. O'Sullivan is the last Bengals player I ever want to see on the field again---I'd rather see passes thrown to Clark Harris before watching O'Sullivan line up behind center.

Bernard Scott may have been the only speck of light from a far distant star in an otherwise inky black void for the Bengals in Week 17. He didn't have great numbers and was stopped behind the line on a few occasions, but he had an exciting 22-yard run by breaking a tackle and reversing field; he also continued to show a knack for kick-returning. This guy is good and should always get at least eight touches a game---maybe someday.

As for the Jets, I felt more of what we already knew about them was reinforced on Sunday rather than us learning any new information. Their defense is outrageous---especially General Revis, they run the ball a lot, and they don't want Sanchez feeling overwhelmed with too many responsibilities. We knew all of this, but that didn't help anything.

Cincinnati saw that the Jets run the option with success in the two games prior to the season finale, yet they pretended that they had never seen a person run from the quarterback position. Brad Smith must have looked like a two-headed Martian to them as he sprinted down field for huge runs. New York's offensive line mowed through the Bengals defense on run-blocking and cleared giant, tractor-sized running lanes to move through. Despite the triviality of the game, it was embarrassing.

The last game of one of the most interesting Bengal season in years, gave the fans little to cheer about but gave the players and coaches plenty to work on this week in the rematch. Nothing good happened Sunday night, but perhaps the positive ramifications of that miserable performance will blossom into fruition this Saturday in the real deal; the showdown. Maybe there's an ambush in the works. Are the Bengals being sneaky? It isn't like them but then again, there's no point in holding anything back when there's nothing else to lose.

Mojokong---now deleting Week 17 of the 2009 season from my memory banks.

The Playoff Party: The Invited Gate-Crasher

Now that the holidays are over and a new decade is upon us, it's time to really get loose and check out the annual Playoff Party.

Every year is a good time, but the 2010 rendition is extra special.

While Indianapolis and New England work the familiar room over with handshakes and pretentious grins, a newcomer slides its way inside when no one is looking. This is a scruffy character adorned in shabby clothing and who smells of a campfire; lo and behold, it's Cincinnati!

The other teams had seen Cincinnati before but always outside of the party huddled around trash and dirty blankets at a nearby bus stop. To think this mangy team was actually inside, rummaging through the cabinets and desk drawers of the place, is unthinkable. Yet there they are; officially invited. Bizarre but true.

San Diego, the California slickster with bleached teeth and chest hair, notices the cumbersome figure near the door and dances its way over in that direction.

“Wanna party?” San Diego asks sauntering from side to side and rotating its arms in circles.

“I'm partying,” Cincinnati replies.

“No, I mean really party,” San Diego says and reaches for something in its pocket.

“No, that's okay. I like going at my own pace,” Cincinnati says before San Diego can brandish whatever it is.

“Your loss,” says San Diego and dances back to the center of the room.

The other teams are standing around Baltimore, paying their compliments to it on all the weight it had lost since the year before. Cincinnati isn't sure what to do next so it slowly approaches the other guests. Before its stench and generally unpleasant affect reaches the others, New York bursts into the room and goes right after Cincinnati.

“What's this bum doing here?” asks the brash, hot-headed New York team.

“I was invited,” Cincinnati answers.

“You shouldn'ta been. We don't like you. You're a phony and you know it, you bum.” New York fires back.

“What about you? You're only here because you knew a guy who knew a guy and arranged for you to get in. Anybody else invite this guy?” Cincinnati asks the others. Indianapolis clears its throat and smiles.

“C'mon guys, relax. The point is you're both here and that's good enough, isn't it?” Indianapolis says cheerfully.

“Screw that,” says New York and unzips its velour track-jacket. “I'm taking out this trash right now. You hear that, you bum? It's trash day!”

Cincinnati sighs, removes its five winter coats, ties a shoestring around its long, greasy hair and readies itself for battle.

And so it goes.

January in the AFC is pretty much the same every year. Indy, New England, San Diego and Baltimore are regulars. Typically so is Pittsburgh, but everyone grew tired of its constant self-righteous boasting and tried like hell to keep them away this year; it barely worked. One of the real joys of this season was witnessing Pittsburgh forcibly removed from its throne and tossed out into the street. The last four months in Cincinnati have felt like one long Bastille Day.

Many---as in most of the known football universe---have very low expectations for the Bengals to stick around the party for all that long. They think that chances are Cincinnati will make an ass of itself and either be tossed out themselves or have the cops called on it, but the other possibility seems strangely plausible too.

We all know the weird person at the party who was invited but just won't go home. The person who drinks up all the leftover booze, talks over everyone else and leers at people as they pass. The person who seems unwilling to return to their own life. Perhaps this is the Bengals.

Cincinnati seems too weird to simply be cast off immediately. Nothing makes sense about this team; it's like an unsightly creature from another planet---tough on the eyes, but intriguing in its oddity. The fact the Bengals play the Jets two weeks in a row makes sense because it's strange. Losing to a team 37-0 one week and having to play them again the next would be bad news for most teams, but for the goofy Bengals, it's likely the opposite.

It's become difficult to rationally analyze this team and predict the events and outcomes of their games because of the weird stuff that always happens to them. The cloud of the unexpected that hovers around the Bengals was kind to them in the beginning, providing wins and a domination of the division, but then went south in the second half of the year and slowed the momentum that swelled early on.

All year, it's been written of how tough the Bengals are, how gritty of a team this is. Terms like physical and smash-mouth have become synonymous with this once aerial-based squad and the coaches have been lauded with deserving praise for such an abrupt turnaround.

Yet if all these things are true, and if the pendulum of the unexpected indeed swings back the Bengals way, then why can't we see big things from them in the Playoffs?

Carson Palmer has an opportunity of a lifetime that begins this week. Here is a man who was once considered of Jedi pedigree, but has since drifted away from earning such praise as his career now transitions into its second half. His Playoff years have been infrequent compared to the great ones and his own team has dramatically shifted away from the passing game. The Jets team he will face Saturday limited him to zero yards on 11 passing attempts yesterday. From the outside, it would appear that Carson just isn't what we thought he would become.

I wouldn't count out the Golden Boy just yet though.

There are a few things that I think we can all agree on when it comes to Carson: he works hard, he seems fairly intelligent, and he appears to have tremendous leadership qualities. We can argue about how brainwashed of a programmable machine he's become, but for now we'll leave that out. There were a fair amount of dropped passes that shared in such an unimpressive showing at the Meadowland Massacre, and I really want to believe that we ran some basic plays to hide the good stuff for the next game, so it seems fair to assume that a repeat passing performance of such a putrid nature is at least unlikely in the Wild Card Game.

Therefore, Carson can pull this team through. He should have a great game, perhaps not statistically, but in the way of making the exceptional play when the standard variety won't get it done. Normally I like to figure out how the Bengals can win without Palmer because I feel that's how this team wins, but that is no longer the case. It starts and ends with him and it had better start on Saturday; anything else will further trap Carson in the ranks of the good-but-not-great category.

So there stands New York, already sweating from jumping around in its wifebeater and yelling a lot. It keeps playing to the crowd at the party by slicking back its brill-cream hair and sneering and pointing at Cincinnati. It says its ready for a fight and is really playing the part. Cincinnati doesn't look like much, but looks weird enough to try anything. Those are usually the ones to worry about.

Mojokong---“Let's get weird.”--Reed Radcliffe, famous man.

Week 17 Preview: A Meaningless Bliss

The closing act to what has been a bizarre and tearful space-ride of a season concludes with a happy ending no matter what happens at a place that has been bad news for both the Bengals and Jimmy Hoffa: The Meadowlands.

Usually the term "enviable position" doesn't apply to Cincinnati sports, but the Bengals find themselves in just that and the decision to rest their starters for the Playoffs is like choosing to drive the Porche to work or just work from home.

After watching tape of the last two Jets games, I say Carson Palmer and the others play for a quarter and then laugh at their backups for the rest. It's no surprise that Colts coach Jim Caldwell pulled Peyton Manning after the first half; New York gets good shots on the opposing quarterback and their secondary is relentless. Keeping your starter out there to take hits or throw interceptions against the number one defense doesn't make much sense.

It wouldn't make sense against the 32nd defense in the league either for that matter. Even gaining the third Playoff seed isn't worth having Palmer or someone else go down and miss the important game the following week. I don't mind running the starters out there early to stay in routine and get a taste of what they might see should they end up playing New York again the following week in the Wild-Card Game, but J.T. O'Sullivan should be sacrificed to the blitz-crazy Jets instead of someone who matters (no offense J.T.).

That being said, I'm not going to jip you people out of a thorough preview so we'll go into this one assuming mostly backups will play for Cincinnati. Sound good?

Okay.

As mentioned, the best thing about the Jets is their defense. It's nasty, with large razor-like fangs and a real predator instinct. Rex Ryan has his men playing with a blood-thirsty vengeance and goes wild with his blitz schemes. They're fast, they're tricky and they hit hard; there's not much more to it.

They look their best in the goal-line defense. Runs up the middle are useless; long-developing plays won't work. Cornerback Daryl Revis is better than advertised and leads a secondary that ball-hawks and hits with the best of them. Ryan hasn't changed much from his days in Baltimore and neither apparently has his scheme. In order for the Bengals to have success Sunday night or the week after, Bob Bratkowski has to strategically outmaneuver Ryan.

Now before you roll your eyes and dismiss Brat's capability to manage such a thing, remember the success that Palmer and the offense had in the past against the Ravens. The Bengals are no strangers to the Ryan family and their blitzing insanity. We know Rex's tendencies and he knows ours; I expect both coordinators to attack the other with stuff that has worked on them in the past.

For the Bengals that means quick stuff to receivers who aren't covered by Revis. Short slants to Caldwell, shallow crosses to Coles, comeback routes to Foschi; that kind of stuff. May I remind you that the West-Coast offense was born in Cincinnati under then offensive coordinator, Bill Walsh; let's dust off that relic of a playbook and put it to work against a pack of wild banchees like the Jets.

Chad Ochocinco is still outrageously spry---more so than many credit him as being---but Revis can sniff out patterns better than any other than perhaps Charles Woodson, and the man can tackle. If left in single-coverage often, I would still expect Chad to win on a handful of occasions against him, but testing General Revis in any way that could be considered risky would be a grave mistake in my opinion. Lito Sheppard still seems to be a fine corner, but he becomes the sensible target across from an All-Pro. Look for Palmer to test Sheppard deep (at least once) when he guards Caldwell in man coverage.

Running against the Jets doesn't look too promising either---especially up the middle. Last week, Joseph Addai racked up some decent yardage early in the game, but it's hard to gauge how much defenses ignore the running game of the Colts. Against the Falcons though, the Jets were stingy on the run and forced Matt Ryan to squeak out enough offense to get the win. The Bengals have put up good totals on the ground against other impressive defenses on a few occasions already this season so who knows how they'll fare, but I wouldn't run it up the gut every time on these guys; they're just too tough for that.

So if they have such a kick-ass defense, then why are they just a Wild-Card contender?

Mark Sanchez, the hotshot rookie QB from USC, is a promising youngster who might turn out to be a hell of a player someday, but for now he's just a rookie learning the ropes and it shows. There are times when he moves out of the pocket and makes a really nice throw and you think to yourself that the Jets may have been on to something drafting this guy. Then Sanchez panics in the pocket and throws a pick and looks like an overpaid backup filling Jets fans with another fresh cup of false hope.

The kid's a little erratic but he's not inept. He can throw it hard and puts a decent touch on the deep ball (the long bomb to Braylon Edwards against Atlanta was a beautiful toss), but he is slow at everything he does. He lumbers instead of run, his throwing motion is deliberate and his delivery is slow. His hand-offs are slow! The man moves like Drew Bledsoe and that is not a very nice thing to say about a person.

Because of Sanchez' youth and drawbacks, the passing game trickles by and New York relies on the tireless pair of stocky legs owned by Thomas Jones to move the offense down field. Bengal fans will tell you how persistent the coaching staff is in their commitment to hand the ball off to Cedric Benson, but Jets fans know the feeling too. It seems like Jones is the heart of their offense; the horse who has pulled the carriage all this way. Stopping Jones and his side kick Shonn Greene, and forcing Sanchez to make plays to win the game is the way Mike Zimmer can keep this Jets offense from making any further noise. Jones is the head; cut off the head and the body will die.

Both the Bengals and the Jets are wear-you-out teams who like to score in the upper teens. Both attempt to simply manhandle the opposition and hope to pull out a late win. Both teams adhere to the old blueprint of smash-mouth football and both can be a real pain in the ass to have to play on Sunday; yet both remain beatable.

I don't expect that in the practice round against New York, the Bengals will get their first win ever at Giants Stadium. Sadly, that means the place will be demolished without a Cincinnati victory ever taking place there. But if there is a second round, when it matters most, and I expect a stiffer challenge than I or any other Bengal fan would like from these Jets. Still, it seems that both teams share the same strengths, we just do it better.

Jets 19, Bengals 10 (this time)



Mojokong---for those who grow out their playoff beards and send me their picture, all will appear on January's beard blog! Ladies can send hairy leg pictures and will also appear on the blog.