The Combine: Day 3

Today is my last day here and I'm leaving at Noon, so there won't be quite as much excitement today. I will partake in Cincy Jungle's first ever podcast, listen to a few coaches (Rex Ryan is always entertaining), and climb back on the bus.

There is a lot less media here in comparison to yesterday. The workouts start this afternoon, but we (the media) have no firsthand access to see the prospects workout—except NFL Network, of course. They get all the perks.

So far, I listened to New York Giants GM Jerry Reese tell the world that a team can acquire a good running back in the fourth or even seventh round. He mentioned how he likes his defensive linemen to be interchangeable in their position and how the Giants do have a budget, but that if they have to pay someone they like, "they will do that." It makes sense of course that the New York teams will be big spenders in an uncapped environment.

Speaking of New York, former Giants coordinator and current Rams head coach Steve Spagnuolo took the podium with his sharp hair cut and his East Coast accent to say that if St. Louis did take a quarterback with the first overall pick, he would not have a problem playing that player right away. Spagnuolo wouldn't say much or compare the two highest rated defensive tackles—Ndamukong Suh and Gerald McCoy—both of which are expected to be top five overall selections. A defensive tackle hasn't been taken with the first pick since 1994 when our very own Bengals took Dan Wilkinson.

Unfortunately, that's all I have for today. This whole voyage has been surreal and incredible and I really enjoyed taking it all in and relaying what I've seen and been through with all of you. Hopefully this type of coverage will become the norm for Cincy Jungle as we continue to grow and deliver our readers the type of quality firsthand reporting that many of you have enjoyed here for the last few days.

Thanks to everyone for reading and to the powers-that-be who sent me here.


Mojokong—living the dream.

The Combine: Day 2.9

Because Marvin was there, an increased Cincinnati media presence showed up as well. I got a place right up front ready to fire my questions away. My first one was about the anemic passing game.

"There's no question we have to be more productive in the passing game. We were able to go in and frankly change the face of our football team, which I think was dramatic. With that being said, we also took some hits on some things that we've adjusted and we continue to adjust to get better. On a positive side, one of those things we have to improve on is our ability to make chunks plays down the field," Marvin said.

At this point in his answer, he noticed John Thornton sitting in the crowd and said hello. Then he went back to the answer.

"And that's a point we really look to improve in. And we're excited about that, just like we were excited about some of the revisions we made last year through the offseason—both personnel and scheme, [and it is] the same thing going into this season," he finished.

You see, I get the same answers as anybody else. He says a lot, but shares a little.

My next question had a much shorter answer but perhaps more actual content. I asked about the depth concerns at safety.

"Safety is an area that we would consider looking at in this draft," he told me.

Not bad.

Questions raised by the others had to do with Rey Maualuga's arrest ("He's making big strides to correct that"), Laveranues Coles' impact last year ("Laveranues added professionalism and maturity that that room severely needed"), and the supposed expanded role of Jerome Simpson (We're going to really, really take steps to keep him on that road to development."). He did say that this draft is especially deep at linebacker, but that is a position that it is "not an area that we would focus on very early". He also likes how the line grew and "came up out of the ashes last year" and is encouraged that Andre Smith will continue to improve. Nothing too shocking.

He didn't sound too excited about this year's tight end crop, pointing to the injuries of the top prospects at that position. He wouldn't talk at all about TO because he still technically belongs to the Bills and wouldn't go into the new CBA because he said that he simply isn't allowed to do so. And that was the press conference.

I felt somewhat satisfied that I interacted with the coach at all. It had always been something of a personal goal to talk with him, and technically I had. I even thanked him as he left the stage and he said I was welcome. He really doesn't seem like a bad guy.

Afterward, I was really thirsty and wanted to buy some water. I walked upstairs where no one was supposed to be. I didn't find any vending machines, but I did find Geoff Hobson, James Walker, Joe Reedy, Scott from CNATI, and some Channel 19 folks. I introduced myself to Hobson and he asked if we weren't piling on him too much on Cincy Jungle. I told him of course not, with only a seed of guilt for lying (Editor's Note: Just kidding Geoff, you know you're our favorite!) Then he asked me if I was sticking around for this, pointing to an empty table.

"What is this?" I asked.

"I don't know; a little Marvin press conference," he told me.

"Then yes, I'm sticking around for this."

Sure 'nuff, here comes the king himself flanked once again by Jack Brennan. Marvin sat down and Brennan looked me over dubiously. I beat him to the punch.

"Clifton Burke, Cincy Jungle," I said and extended my hand.

"You're a local guy," he asked shaking it.

"Yes, sir."

I could tell it still made him uneasy. Then, unprompted, Hobson stuck up for me.

"He's from Cincy Jungle; he's okay."

Brennan nodded, Marvin then looked me over, and I was welcomed into the circle. It was a rite of passage of sorts. Then the questions began again.

The first one was about Bobbie Williams and Marvin said without hesitation that he wanted him back.

"Bobbie has beaten the averages as far as age and had a really productive football season for us."

Then I asked him if this year's draft preparation would be any different in regards to the uncapped season next year and the uncertainty the year after that.

"I don't think it will affect the draft at all. The draft is an opportunity to improve your football team for the future, and you really have to look at it from that point. To me, it's not as important in the draft to fill every seat, but fill every seat with the best football players because every football team is put together a little different (sic). When you draft by need, you take a lesser player, and when you take a lesser player, two years later, they're still a lesser player. He doesn't maybe get better. You want to take the best players you can take and do the best job to fit the other guys around him and coach the entire group to really upgrade the talent level of the entire football team, and not just be pleased that I have 11 players."

Wow. Never did I think I could prompt Marvin to say that many words, but that is what happened.

Other guys asked him more about tight ends and he stuck with the answer that a tight end has to block first in the AFC North. "It takes a man to play divisional games," he said. He also said more potential NFL-caliber tight ends are playing basketball in high-school instead of football.

Another question from someone else was about the passing game and he said he wanted a player who can contribute earlier in the season.

Something else was asked about the pass rush, and he answered that Odom got his feet wet at being a star and that Fanene impressed him with his rapid development.

Then it was over. As I walked off, Scott from CNATI introduced himself and asked if I was getting around the city alright, not having a car and all.

"You're a reader!" I exclaimed. He laughed and nodded. I explained to him that my hotel shuttle has actually worked out pretty well, which caught James Walker's attention.

"First combine?" Walker asked.

I nodded, did a quick introduction and explained to him that it was a big deal for Cincy Jungle to get credentialed at all and they each wished me luck. It was a great experience.

The rest of the day was easy. I listened to Tony Pike explain how he is getting bigger (225 lbs.) but still isn't heavy enough in his mind. I sat through Mike Holgrem's presser, Super Bowl ring and all, indicate that he wants an offensive linemen this draft. Holmgren also said that he's looking for any trades that are out there, and expressed that he feels the future of the league will require more defensive backs. He hasn't made a quarterback decision and he intends to make it difficult for other teams to obtain Jerome Harrison.

Then a voice came over the loud speaker, and it said "some guy named Tebow is at Podium C," and the rat race was on. For a guy who doesn't play in the NFL, he is easily the most famous person in football right now. A press member actually had him autograph something; a very amateur move that could actually result in that person being barred from the future. Nothing at Tebow's presser was interesting. Nothing.

I then listened to Dez Bryant struggle to speak. That guy is not bright outside of the football field. Each answer consisted of eight words or less.

A player I was entertained listening to was Golden Tate—the smallish Notre Dame receiver. Even though most of the questions were about Jimmy Clausen, the guy had a good sense of humor and said he models his game after Steve Smith because of his size. I liked Tate's attitude and would welcome him in Bengal stripes if Cincinnati were to draft him.

Lastly, Jeff Fisher spoke. All I wanted to know from Fisher was what the Competition Committee had in store this offseason. Predictably, he said player safety was of the highest priority. The defenseless player will be the focus in talks regarding player health this offseason and into the future, Fisher said.

I waited and waited for Mardy Gilyard to show, but I never saw him. He wasn't paramount in my coverage, but he would have been interesting to see how he handled the press. My hunger got the best of me and I left 30 minutes early; sue me.


That was today. Can it get any better tomorrow? Only one way to find out. Stay tuned.

The Combine: Day 2.5

Today is even more of a zoo than yesterday. With a litany of NFL head coaches and general managers scheduled for podium time, the media has beefed up and spaces with a plug nearby have become a premium.

The day started with Chicago Bears head coach Lovie Smith dodging questions left and right. Lovie said he likes this year's coaching staff, in particular the new presence of Mike Tice who was hired to coach the offensive line. Tice and Bears defensive coordinator Rod Marinelli are both former head coaches, and Lovie says he's gotta a thing for former leaders of men.

The only thing halfway interesting Smith told the media is that his team must address the safety position and that "you can't have too many pass-rushers, especially speed guys on the ends". Sorry, Bears fans, wish I could give you more.

Next up was St. Louis Rams general manager Billy Devaney. There has been lots made in the Rams universe that for the past two drafts they have passed on quarterbacks who went on to have good seasons and help their team right away—Matt Ryan and Mark Sanchez are typically referenced in regard to this topic.

Devaney genuinely empathized with the reporter who asked this.

"You never want to force a quarterback into a pick if he isn't the best player out there, but I hear you," Devaney said. "We should have a helluva defense line at this point." Everyone laughed.

There is speculation that the Rams could draft Oklahoma quarterback Sam Bradford with their top choice, but with the sudden league-wide obsession over defensive tackles, I wouldn't be shocked if St. Louis ended up with a top-ranked DT like fellow kong, Ndamukong Suh.

Then came Green Bay Packers general manager Ted Thompson. This guy looks like Vince McMahon and speaks very softly. I couldn't get close enough to hear real well, but I caught a few things.

His first question was about Tim Tebow. Why not? The Packers only have a quarterback with the top passer-rating in history, but Double T might know a thing or two about Tebow, right? Maybe—I couldn't hear., but who really cares? Tebow isn't likely to end up in Green Bay. That's part of the Combine; hollow questions aplenty.

I also didn't hear the question that changed Thompson's tone and body language completely. Someone asked something and Thomspon rolled his eyes, smiled and looked elsewhere for another question. The reporter persisted. Ted said something short and apparently terse to the guy and this time did move on. Every question afterward got no more than two sentences and Thompson had clearly answered enough questions for his liking.

The top dog of Washington took over next. No, not Barack: Mike Shanahan. This guy does look like George W. Bush though, so there's some weird presidential connection.

Shanahan said he intends on tendering Jason Campbell and keeping him on the team. He said he enjoys studying for the draft and had extra time to do that this season. He visited practices and camps of the New England Patriots and Pittsburgh Steelers to see how much hitting they do in practice.

That's about it from Shanahan. Then...Marvin Lewis strolled to the podium flanked by Bengals PR point man, Jack Brennan. I had an interesting day with Marvin, but to find out what happened, you will have to check back tonight for part two of today's excitement.

The Combine: Day 2

So you got the newsy version of the combine, but here's the real scoop.

The combine is all about money; from top to bottom.

When players are asked about a recent injury they pounce on their rehearsed lines. This is the one way that the media can actually eff with a player's money. You will hear cliches like: one hundred percent, ready to go, not a problem—this is the stuff attached to questions about injuries. Ask them what scouts are looking for from a technical aspect and they'll say speed or footwork. I want to press them.

“Yes, but what kind of footwork? Back peddling, driving forward? Can you be more specific?”

The players have been drilled by handfuls of teams about their football smarts all day, and the last thing they wanna do is go over some chalkboard stuff with me at a press conference. Plus, unusual, pressing questions scare the typical athlete and they retract. To some degree, you have to go with the flow because you're going to be there the next three days. Weird these people out on day one and you will suffer a significant career drawback. The key is playing it straight for a while and wait for everyone else get to weird on their own. Three days at a Combine will do it for sure. Then start asking people some really bizarre shit.

“Will rookies in 2011 have to get regular jobs if there is no draft? What team would you remove from the NFL if you could? How do you feel about public transportation?”

The general managers will drop some nuggets, but they are experts at treading between sounding smart and being secretive. Every word they speak in this forum either makes or costs them money. Slip up and share too much information, and the other teams and player agents will use that info to exploit the now publicly vulnerable team. Put pressure on veterans through the media—like Jeff Ireland did to Joey Porter and Kevin Colbert did to Willie Parker today—and it makes it easier for the fans to digest once that player is gone.

Then there is the media themselves. The NFL Network has it's own elevated stage in the center of the room that takes up an obnoxious amount of unnecessary space. The real kicker is: it's for only Jason LaConfora. The rest of the crew is inside what Rich Eisen has coined “the inner sanctum”. The rest of us scum have to swim around the place brandishing our recorders and cameras and notebooks and complete whole sentences aloud even though it is clear someone else had begun their sentence first. It's an orgy of coverage, that for many of these people, is the only way they get their money.

That would be okay if we were really trying to outsmart one another, but a whole gaggle of professionals laugh when a reporter asks an athlete what is the strangest question they've had so far and the guy replies “what is my favorite color?” That happened.

The media make there money the fastest though. The pattern is this: The media arrive. They quickly consume all the coffee and bagels sat out for them. They spend 20 minutes cramming. They surround famous people and go through the motions with them, then they run back to their laptop and slop up some updates and call it a blog. It's active, but not exceptionally enthralling.

Still, the experience is priceless. If you're trying to make it as a football writer or are expected to be drafted by an NFL team—both of which I qualify for—you have to be there.

Mojokong—always bring a muffin.

The Combine: Day 1.5

Once the coaches and general managers fielded questions, the prospects themselves took the floor. Today's group included mostly offensive linemen, tight ends, kickers and punters. With lots of speculation surrounding the Bengals possibly taking a tight end or guard, today was a big day for me.

I talked with a few tight ends; the highest profile of which was Arizona's Rob Gronkowski. Recently Gronkowski had surgery on his lower back, but says he has no lingering effects from the operation.

“The back's holding up great. It's one hundrered percent; no pain. I haven't felt this good in a while.”

Gronkowski is entering the draft after his junior season with the Wildcats because he doesn't like waiting on the things he wants. While not performing a complete workout at the Combine, Gronkowski conducted interviews with teams and will lift weights for scouts while in Indianapolis. He will undergo a complete workout during his personal pro day in Tuscon at the end of March that, according to him, should include running 4.6 in the forty-yard dash during that workout.

He calls himself a tough, physical player who likes to do the dirty work and make big plays down the field. He's a large target; 6'6'' and 265 lbs. Some teams have told him that he needs to improve with his blocking, but no one seems concerned with his pass-catching ability, especially Rob himself.

“I have great hands and I can catch anything.”

He's clearly a confident young man.

Another interesting tight end prospect is former University of Miami football and basketball player, Jimmy Graham. After deciding to forsake hoops and focus on the gridiron, Graham hopes to follow in the footsteps of fellow basketball player turned tight end, Antonio Gates. Graham also has blocking concerns, but his 6'6'' frame and his basketball athleticism make him a receiver that could be lethal in the red-zone.

The last tight-end I spoke with was Pitt's Dorin Dickerson. He's a smallish player for his position—225 pounds—but he feels he could find a niche with a team as an H-back (a smaller fullback or tight end used in two tight-end sets). He feels that his experience playing in Dave Wandstadt's pro-style offense will help acclimate him to the NFL. He too acknowledges that the scouts want to see him prove he can block, but he said he's worked on that facet of the game with his coaches.

“I work on my blocking by doing drills with heavy bags and the coaches have helped a lot with my footwork,” Dickerson explained.

As for the guards, the biggest media crowd hovered around Idaho big man Mike Iupati. Most of these athletes don't appear as heavy as they are listed but that isn't the case with Iupati; he is giant. The thing I liked hearing from him was that he likes to pull on running plays. There were a lot of questions thrown at him about moving to tackle. While he said all the right things about being versatile and of how playing at different spots can only help his draft stock, it was clear the man prefers staying at guard.

Illinois guard Jon Asamoah was also asked about playing tackle, but he sounded much more receptive to the idea of shifting over on the line.

“Every team wants you to be versatile; it keeps you on a roster,” said Asamoah.

He then went on to answer a lot of questions about his father being a diabetic and of how, even though he is big, he didn't have many sweets around the house. These are the kinds of questions these guys have to answer.

Take Texas Tech guard, Randy Carter. Before I asked him what he thinks the scouts want to see from him the most, he spent 10 minutes explaining why he no longer has crazy hair or face paint and had to describe the tattoos that are hidden behind his now normal hair. This guy is another load; I wouldn't label him svelte. He said he needed to prove he was fast enough for the pros, something at which he claims to have worked diligently, and he has lost nearly 15 pounds for the Combine.

In general, these players don't give us reporters much with which to work. They are as thoroughly coached on how to answer (or not answer) our questions as they are coached on how to play on the field. The media, of course, asks the dumbest questions, which doesn't help discerning any real information on the players. It's one big square dance where a person walks away knowing little more about the players than they did when the day started.

I did meet former Bengal John Thornton, though. He's a really nice guy who mostly hangs back and observes. He told me to introduce myself to Geoff Hobson but the situation never adequately presented itself—maybe tomorrow. I also want to say hello to both the Cincinnati Enquirer's Joe Reedy, and ESPN's James Walker.

I'll have lots more the next two days. Stay tuned.

The Combine: Day 1

Ah, the combine.

I am stuck in a fairly posh room within Lucas Oil Stadium with a legitimate throng of other media. It's a feeding frenzy of digital recorders and talking over one another. The room is set up of many long tables where the media sets up their laptops and coffee. Getting one of these spots is a premium, otherwise you'd have to haul your stuff around with you all day.

Within the room are a few round tables where various players address the media. There are also three press-conference stages where coaches and general managers expertly skirt around questions regarding player personnel.

So far, most of the questions pertain to the suddenly premium nose tackle position in 3-4 schemes. With more teams using the scheme, a fat run-plugger is what everyone is after. Buffalo Bills coach Chan Gailey said because most college teams don't use a 3-4, there simply aren't many guys that fit the bill. With that said, expect the big defensive tackles to be selected higher than in they might be in other years.

Franchise tags have already been slapped on nose tackles, Aubrayo Franklin of San Fransisco, and Ryan Pickett of Green Bay, and Casey Hampton resigned with Pittsburgh to a $21 million contract over the next three years. Steelers general manager Kevin Colbert said it was important to get Hampton signed because having a solid defensive front specifically helps the defensive backs.

Colbert also elaborated on how the outside linebacker position in a 3-4 scheme is changing thanks to players like Elvis Dumerville. Before, teams valued taller linebackers that played defensive end in college, but Dumerville and other shorter players are showing how immense offensive tackles have trouble bending down to stop speed rushers. Colbert also said he doesn't want force players into a particular physical prototype and that there is still a lot of guess work when converting college ends into pro outside linebackers, but based on his statements at his press conference, it would not be surprising if more 3-4 defenses aquired shorter linebackers. Colbert also said that this year's draft has is the best crop of defensive linemen he's seen in decades.

Local writer, Geoff Hobson asked Colbert about the challenges of finding positions like tight end since so many college offenses run spread formations that use multiple receivers in place of a tight end. Colbert said that both fullbacks and tight ends have become more rare due to the pervasive spread offenses, but that as a result, the league is seeing larger receivers and running backs.

As for Steelers running back Willie Parker returning next year to the team, Colbert said he would wait to see how free-agency unfolds after Friday before he decides Parker's future. Reading between the lines, I would say that Colbert sounded lukewarm about Fast Willie and it leads me to think that Pittsburgh might be interested in the likes of LaDanian Tomlinson as a change-of-pace back to Rashad Mendenhall.

Both Colbert and Miami Dolphins GM, Jeff Ireland, explained that trading up their spot in the draft isn't always a smart move. Each explained that it's typically more advantageous to trade down and aquire more picks rather than trading up for a specific player.

Ireland did not show much enthusiasm when the topic of Joey Porter was raised. He did say that Porter's comments about wanting a new team did not factor into the Dolphins effort to release the veteran linebacker, though he did say that the team needs to get younger at that position.

The Combinbe: Day 0

The day started off on a bad note. As I checked my bank statement before leaving town, I became enraged at my fascist bankers that had inexplicably overdrawn my account twice, leaving me with a balance of negative sixty dollars. I went over the transaction ledger three times and could not figure how my account had dropped in the red. I needed to visit this fine establishment but thanks to all the other shit I had to do that day, my venting had to wait.

I did, however, manage to make it on the bus to Indy. The only thing I forgot at home was one glove—could be worse. I found a seat that appeared to have significant leg room and stared out of the window. I watched a family unload out of a van—two large women, a young man with jeans clinging around his thighs and a toddler—perilously cross the street forcing cars to stop and blow their horns at them and struggle their way onto the bus. Somehow, I knew this family would effect my travels.

When they first got on, the toddler and the larger of the two ladies, sat in the two seats in front of me. Not so bad, I thought. Then they changed seats to the one behind me and the kid immediately began kicking my chair. Twenty minutes later, the kid had fallen asleep, but the two women did not cease speaking. Not once. If they weren't talking with each other they were fielding the numerous phone calls that inundated their cell phones, causing obnoxious ring tones to fill the bus every eight minutes or so. It was lovely.

We came to a rest area and I decided that I must change seats. I found another empty seat with signifcantly less legroom but assumed it would be more peaceful regardless of its comfort drawbacks. It took nearly 10 minutes before I realized that the bus driver was looking for me because I wasn't in my seat and he wanted to make sure not to leave me in an Indiana rest stop—a kind man.

I waved to him and reassured everyone that I was present and that we could move on.

Finally we reached Indianapolis. Being on the top of the double-decker bus I obviously had no idea what was happening a floor below. After some time, I meandered downstairs to find the bus driver letting on passengers on their way to Chicago. Working against the grain, I reached the bus driver and asked him if I should get off now.

“You're getting off?” he asks.

“Yes.”

“Well then, get off.”

I walked outside to the back of the bus, unlatched the luggage container and removed my bag. Anyone could have done the same thing; I could have taken all the other bags too. The Megabus must be a river of drugs.

The Indianapolis chill had more bite than Cincinnati's and it was snowing and the snow was sticking. I had just left a city that had finally thawed to the point where the word “treacherous” was no longer synonymous with the word “sidewalk”. Seeing flakes dust more sidewalks here in Indy was repulsive at the time.

With bags in hand, I moved up the street uncertain of my next move. Looking around I suddenly noticed an enormous structure peaking out around the corner. It was Lucas Oil Field and it looked like a space freighter. It reminded me of stumbling upon just the head of a sleeping dragon; you know the part you can't see is even bigger. I didn't spend too much time on it, knowing I would get my fill soon enough.

I needed a warm spot with a beer. Being a sucker for a good stout, I rambled into Rockbottom Brewery and threw the hostess off guard. She gave me her best smile, but she was concerned with my bulging backpack and duffle bag and my Raiders sock hat (yes, Raiders. A hat is a hat.). I told her I intended to visit the bar and she was relieved.

The first really good news of the day came when the bartender told me my beer cost $2.17. I gluttoned the first one and savored the second. In the process, I was also haggling with my hotel about their shuttle service.

Earlier in the day, I inquired about the shuttle service listed in under 'services'. During that call, a young man with a lifeless tone explained through a dozen of my questions that the shuttle service is available to go anywhere I need within the city limits between the hours of 7am and 11pm as long as I give them at least a half hour notice—for $10 a ride.

So while enjoying my delicious and affordable stouts, I called to see if I could get a lift back to the hotel before I even checked in. At first Captain Monotone said it was cool, but then told me to hang on and returned to say that the shuttle doesn't go downtown. Considering I needed to work downtown for the next three days, this was unacceptable—not to mention a breach of contract. So I explained what was told to me, knowing it was this jackass who told me all of it in the first place. Every time I would bring up the rules, he would tell me to hold on and then tell me it couldn't happen. Finally I asked to speak to whomever he was speaking to.

“Yeah?” said the gruff, aged voice.

“Hello, is this the shuttle driver?”

“Yeah.”

I explained the rules again.

“Listen, this is for business, okay?” he asked me. “This isn't for playing around at the bars, you got it?”

Playing around?

“Fine,” I said. “I can meet you at Lucas Oil Stadium if that is professional enough for you.”

“That'd be alright. I'll meet you at the East end, alright?”

“No, I don't know which end is the East, I'll meet you on Delaware and Washington at nine.”

“Alright.”

He drove past me the first time looking right at me. I nodded and pointed at him but he kept going. I was relieved to see him return two minutes later.

I decided to be extra gracious and really poured it on thick.

“You're a lifesaver,” I told him.

“Well, we just don't like people playing around with our shuttle is all.”

He was a smallish white man with scruffy hair under a worn ball cap and a unkempt mustache. He wore a polyester college jacket and slumped in his seat.

I explained to him that I was here to cover the NFL Combine and how I didn't know the city much at all.

“Well, that sounds like business,” he said.

I asked him if he lived here in Indy and he said that he lived at the hotel. He said that he doesn't like picking people up in the company van if he doesn't have to because there's so much to work to do. This man did whatever needed to be done at the place in exchange for a place to live. Crazy.

We arrived at the Knights Inn, and I tipped the driver. He said he didn't want to take it because he got “huffy” with me on the phone; he took it anyway. The man at the counter was a shaggy adolescent with a peace-sign medallion and a long-sleeved t-shirt under a short-sleeved t-shirt. He was a very cliched young man. I was also very nice to this guy but I didn't have to. He was frazzled with our phone exchange and he forgot to charge me for the ride.

I slid the key card into the slot and opened the door to a dingy oasis. It was warm (too much so, honestly), it had two beds (and I decided to alternate each night) and it a place to relax. The room was strangely similar to many of my former apartments: basic on the edge of bootleg. Nothing about it was nice. But it didn't matter. I could sleep.

The Combine: Day -1

Going into this thing—like the bridge keeper from Monty Python and The Holy Grail—I want to know three things: who will the Bengals draft and why? will the labor uncertainty and a lack of a salary cap this off-season change the draft process? and what in the hell is the Combine like anyway?

I've been to a dog show before, but this is the Westminster. They check the teeth and ears, and make the dogs run and jump, just like they did at UC a year ago. Only this time, they run intelligence tests on the dogs and even make them speak.

Yes sir, it's a granddaddy alright, complete with slick agents, shrewd experts, hordes of media, the dogs of course, and somehow—me. Soon I will be engulfed by an elite social strata of which I have never known. Literally millionaires, or in some cases, soon-to-be millionaires, will commiserate within mere feet of where I will stand. And then, as they've seen enough dogs for the day, or maybe just going to take a leak, they will drift past where I am and it is my job to stop and ask them their opinions of the dogs.

“Which kinda dog you into?” I'll ask Bill Parcells as he purchases a bag of peanut M&M's from the vending machine that hums all day in the room where I and the other underprivileged press are confined to.

“How the hell do I know? Who the hell are you? Why are you talking to me?” The Tuna will retort.

Hopefully it goes better than that.

Yet, who knows? Not the men who procured my press pass, that's for sure. When I asked if we would have access to the actual workouts, they answered very slowly, “probably not”. When I asked if interviews would be a free-for-all with reporters mobbing figures of greater fame as they tried to leave the building, they just couldn't say.

What they did manage to tell me was of their background and of how their blog was started. They also managed to spend a lot of time on this conference call telling all the guys picked to do this thing how to dress. The General of the operation, the company's 'man on the ground', was adamant about getting everyone together for dinner and drinks. Essentially, nothing was discussed that gave details of any kind of a working environment we could expect.

So I'm doing this thing my way and that is: one part improvisation, two parts curiosity, a heaping spoonful of nerves, and just a twist of comedic internal dialogue to keep me loose. The end product will be three answers to satisfy us all.

Mojokong—“blessed are the cracked for they let in the light”--Monsieur Jot

Covering The Combine With No Car

A few weeks ago it was rumored that Cincy Jungle may be able to get its hands on a press pass to the NFL Draft Scouting Combine. The rule was: if you sign up to go and your name ends up on the list, you must attend. The list was announced and my name was on it, so I'm going.

The whole experience should be an entertaining one, but what is certainly going to make it more entertaining—as well as immensely frustrating—is that I'm going there with no car and a laughably meager budget. Welcome to the madness of Mojokong.

You see, I'm something of an anomaly in that I'm 31-years-old and have gone 11 years without driving a car. It isn't that I have a weird fear of cars, or had my license taken away by the law, and I'm not an environmental zealot per say, I simply find it cheaper to live my life without one.

When the subject about attending the combine was raised, I knew I could get there on Megabus—a bus line that connects various cities for cheap—so I considered it doable. I submitted my name as interested and considered the whole ordeal a long shot, though I still wanted to be there.

Then, of course, my name was drawn and I was now committed to the Covering the Combine with No Car.

My first thought was that I could take the Megabus to Indianapolis each morning, then take it home at night. The plan was solid; sure it would mean four hours of travel for a few days, but I figured I could transcribe interviews or just read during the commute.

Then came the email from the NFL stating that no press passes would be given out after 10am, which, in turn, shot my plan to hell. The Megabus arrives in Indy at 11am every day. Therefore, I needed a hotel room.

I work part-time at a public library, and make a few breadcrumbs writing on the side. In short, I am not a wealthy man, or even a middle-classed one, and I have never purchased a hotel room.

The main concern obtaining a room was its proximity to Lucas Oil Stadium. With no car, I had to be somewhat close by. The next priority was, of course, cost. I found a reasonably priced room five miles from the stadium. Time was running out so I had to procure it quickly and I pulled the trigger. Once I made the purchase, I went about figuring how I would get around.

A crucial mistake of mine was assuming Indy's public transit couldn't be worse than Cincinnati's. Somehow it is though. If you were to look at all of Indianapolis' bus lines superimposed on a map—something that would have been helpful but is not available on the bus company's website—you would see how entire regions of the city are largely ignored by public transit, including the region where my hotel sits.

I spent a lot of time studying internet maps on how I could get to the stadium inside of two hours every morning, but it seems that it's going to be about that no matter what method I take—outside of taking cabs each time, which I in no way can afford. I can hoof it and get there in around a 100 minutes. Or, I can walk many blocks away from the stadium and take a bus back in the right direction which takes about the same amount of time. Either way, getting to and from the Combine each day will be something of a mission in and of itself.

This is the weird, archaic lifestyle that for some reason I adhere to. It's strange, I know, but it's what I'm dealing with at the moment.

So not only will this adventure be about the Combine, the Draft, the Bengals, scouts, agents and players, but it will also be about how a person can do this job without a car or much money at all.

Stay tuned for future dipatches.

Season Review: Part Four

Heading in to Week 9, the Ravens traveled to play the first-place Bengals; a team they had lost to four weeks before on their own turf. Nonetheless, the Las Vegas wizards refused to accept Cincinnati as a contender and made Baltimore a three-point favorite. This ruffled a few Bengal feathers, mine included.

There was no reason to analytically assume the Bengals would lose. They were fresh off demolishing Chicago, 45-10, the previous week and already proved the experts wrong on three separate occasions that year. Yet the festering Bengal stigma that lurks in the minds of football fans was still so thick that the majority expected Cincinnati to "come back to Earth" and suffer their first divisional loss.

Ha!

Like the Bears game, the offense came out of the gate hot, and rolled to a quick 17-0 lead in the first half. Dick Enberg, the television commentator that day, accurately described Cedric Benson as having "a mean running style" as he powered into defenders and swiped away arm tackles. Benson is bad to the bone, and the Ravens were reminded of that both times they faced him.

Laveranues Coles also had his best day and came through with some key catches in those early scoring drives by the Bengals. When reviewing the season as a whole, Coles had stretches where he appeared in sync with the rest of the offense. It raises questions surrounding his inconsistency on the year. Perhaps we, as a Bengal nation, are too rough on him. Maybe it's possible that he still may find a rhythm with Carson and become the productive player he was in New York. After all, Carson didn't have his most accurate season and the whole offensive shebang is run by a guy who has a difficult time incorporating anything new at all. Either way, Coles looked good against the Ravens at home and it helped the Bengals win that game.

Once Cincinnati had their three-score lead, they took their foot off the pedal and put it up on the dashboard. Even with no more points, and not much more excitement, they ran enough plays to control the ball for 40 minutes of the game; twice as much as Baltimore for those skipping the math.

Of course, you can't pull off a statistic like that without great defense, and by that point of the season, the defense was hardening into the coldblooded mold it would be all season long. Zimmer and his men put Baltimore in a choke-hold that rendered them useless on offense---twice. The run-stoppers were fierce, the coverage was like a giant rain-tarp, and Rey and the Boys chased running backs and screening receivers out of bounds on a regular basis.

It was a strongman win, 17-7. The game-plan unfolded nicely; three quick scores and a stockpile of good defense was all it took.

But it came at a cost that no one could have predicted. Chris Henry broke his forearm and needed surgery. He would miss the rest of the season. It was a setback that proved insurmountable to the offense, but more importantly, an event that contributed to his young death. I certainly don't know anything about it, but it seems like Henry playing football was the best situation for him. It's all so very sad.

That sadness, though, was not yet upon the team as he died a few weeks later. Instead, after the second Baltimore win, the Bengals prepared their trip to the confluence of the Three Rivers to settle the division once and for all. For both teams, it was the game of the season and everybody knew it. Beating the Ravens and going 4-0 in the AFC North was nice, but taking out Pittsburgh a second time would be simply majestic.

Again, very few thought that would happen.

Ha, ha!

I remember raking leaves and heavily contemplating the upcoming match-up. I decided both teams would score three times but that Cincinnati's red-zone defense would limit two of Pittsburgh's scores to field goals. That meant Carson and Crew would need at least two touchdowns to win. After playing a near-flawless six quarters before going into the protect-the-lead mode against Baltimore, the offense seemed capable of getting into the end-zone twice. I picked the Bengals with my heart, and developed a presentable reason why with my brain. I was wrong about all of it, and I'm glad that I was. The offense didn't score any touchdowns that week, but it somehow didn't matter.

It was a fierce, brutal contest; a real rolled-up-sleeves and bloody-knuckles kind of fight. Cedric Benson aggravated a hip flexor and was shelved for the next three weeks, Troy Polamalu bothered his hurt knee and was never seen again that year.

Things started out poorly for the Bengals after Shayne Graham missed a field goal on their opening drive and Pittsburgh responded with a made field goal of their own. The ensuing kickoff was returned 94 yards by Bernard Scott for the game's only touchdown.

The run was terrific. Scott caught it on the bounce near the sideline, looked to be in trouble, spotted a hole on his stop-and-start move, and zoomed through it. Quan Cosby zoomed with him and made two tremendous downfield blocks that enabled Scott to score. After an exuberant celebration on the Bengals special-teams behalf, fans' spirits were quickly dampened when the extra-point attempt was botched.

Many questions will be raised and remain unanswered about the direction of the team and the various decisions that determine such things, but the one that stands out to me is why Darrin Simmons was brought back for 2010. Yes, Shayne Graham went on to make four more field goals in that game in one of his more impressive showings of the year, but he still missed one, didn't he? The botched PAT was one of a handful of embarrassing gaffes in the kicking game that season, and there were two holding penalties on additional quality returns by Scott that day. By rule, it's still a 10-yard holding penalty, but often the spot of the foul is far behind where the returner was tackled. Therefore, it becomes something more of a 20-yard penalty and it makes the ensuing offensive drive seem that much more difficult.

Thankfully for the Bengals, with a Benson-less rushing attack and a mediocre passing game, compounded with spotty special-teams play, the defense saved the day again. These once castaways collected by Marvin Lewis and Mike Zimmer, were good enough to earn themselves a nickname in 2009, yet sadly none took hold. If that situation were to happen again next year, I recommend: The Beggars & Thieves Defense.

The pass rush was in full force, tossing Big Ben to the ground all day. If they weren't forcing punts and field goals with sacks, they were forcing them with the batted ball, and it was only a matter of time before one of those tips would end up intercepted.

The play where that happened was my favorite of '09. The score was tied 9-9 in what had clearly become a field-position brawl. Roethlesberger's pass was not deflected by a Bengal lineman, but rather ricocheted off the helmet of Hines Ward, up in to the air and into the hands of a large man named Frostee. What made this play so sweet was that as Rucker thumped down the sideline, two Steeler offensive lineman were obliterated on blocks as they ran toward the play. Frostee was caught on the return, and Cincinnati settled for three, but it was one of the sweeter tastes of the season.

The combination of getting to Roethlesberger on the pass rush and driving on offense consistently enough to get field goals, propelled Cincinnati to the catbird seat of the AFC North where they now sat alone. They had roughed up the previous champs for the second time and exerted a visible dominance in doing so. No divisional competitor had bested the Bengals and their record at 7-2 sparkled in the eyes of their fans.

Even the doubters started to allow the possibility of an actual Bengals postseason to drip into their collective opinions after winning in Pittsburgh. Bob Costas himself, the smug know-it-all who rubs elbows with the other smug know-it-alls of NBC football shows, had to ask on the air, "Are the Bengals for real?"

It was like Houdini or Jack Buck, I can't believe what I just saw, but there were no more reasons not to believe. The Bengals had worn the big boy pants all season, routinely dispelling the many theories of why they couldn't beat the good teams. Lots of people still won't admit it, but after Cincinnati walked away from that pile of dust in Pittsburgh as winners, a new layer of respect was given to the Bengals. They had slayed their dragon---twice.

But of course, there was that faint and distant voice that kept talking about a dying Bengals passing game. That irksome reminder of how this is a passing league and that power, grind-house teams won't be there in the end. After such a monumental win---one of the best of Marvin's career---that voice was drowned in the din of celebration, but it remained present nonetheless. And when things quieted down again, it would be heard more clearly.


Mojokong---it may not always seem so, but these recordings are important.

Not Just Here To Party

Physically, Matt Jones is exactly the kind of receiver the Bengals need. He's big (240 lbs.), tall (6'6''), fast (4.37 as a rookie), and athletic (played both quarterback and basketball at Arkansas). He's a Chris Henry prototype, only with less explosive potential. He could excel on corner routes and passes thrown high. He could box players out on deep passes and get separation to make Carson Palmer's job easier. The problem is, the guy likes to party and cocaine is not the kind of fun the NFL is marketing.

Yet there is always a place for the wayward and troublesome castoffs of the league trying to regain a little credibility. Mike Brown, The Redeemer, has become the Franciscan Monk of all the owners, always ready to dole out another chance for a scratch-and-dent sale price. When a player's reputation is ruined and his career looks bleak, he has to look at himself in the mirror, suck it up, and sign with the Bengals. Sometimes it works out (Cedric Benson); sometimes it doesn't (Odell Thurman).

Still, if it's mid-September and Matt Jones is on the 45-man active list, that's a good thing. While it would be hasty to say that with Jones now on the team the receiver concerns have been put to ease, it's already a signal that Cincinnati is eager to improve upon that unsightly blemish to an otherwise well assembled group: the passing game. If it truly is possible to acquire TO in March, the Bengals should sign him. Finding play-makers can be a tricky business; you never know what combination will succeed until it happens.

In that case, it only makes sense to load up with lots of new targets and see how Carson likes them. If Laveranues Coles remains with the team---despite his sizable contract and limited impact last year---even he could find a new role that perhaps suits him better with new receivers around him. Individual statistics would likely decrease with a wider array of weaponry, but spreading the ball out to multiple players makes a team harder to defend, and for an offensive coordinator, that's the name of the game.

Hopefully Jones keeps his nose clean and lasts with the Bengals. If Cincinnati is to win the Super Bowl next season, new parts are necessary. This is one of those needed parts.

Mojokong---there's only one season left! Repent!

Brat: His Fall From Glory & His Predictable Future

In order to look ahead, we have to first look back.

Early in the 2008 season, the Cincinnati Bengals knew they were in trouble. Right out of the gate, the Ravens eliminated the Bengals passing attack completely and at that point, exposed the inevitable collapse of Bob Bratkowski's offensive philosophy.

The routine had become old hat. Based on formations and down-and-distance situations, thousands of people on their couches knew what play was coming next. NFL defenses certainly did, and suddenly the passer who routinely collected 4,000 yards and 25 touchdowns each season now looked mediocre. Once he hurt his elbow, Palmer was shelved after five games (only four of which he played in) and the rest of the year basically went into preseason mode. The Bengal brass (more like copper?) had a long time to decide what would happen once Carson healed. This is what it appears they went with:

The offensive line couldn't hold up well in pass protection and it resulted in an injured star quarterback; that simply wouldn't do. It's no secret that Mike Brown puts a premium on the arm of Mr. Palmer and would likely agree that he doesn't want to pay him to stand along the sidelines.

Also, the offense had become stale and even they had to know it. That mudslide began in 2007 when the predictability started to set in and Carson Palmer's interception total spiked. Adjustments weren't made soon enough; the team was losing again!

The last influential development that has molded the team that we see today, was the resurrection of Cedric Benson. He looked good, the line blocked well for him, and the offense began thawing just enough to steal a few wins late in the year. A ray of hope shined from an unexpected source; The Redeemer earned another feather in his cap.

The combination of these things prompted Brown into making a sensible business decision: the team would run more. I can envision Marvin Lewis smiling and rubbing his hands together at these words.

But then Brown made a personal decision, a counter-business decision, an it's-my-team-and-I-will-do-what-I-want decision; he retained Bratkowski. Here was the perfect chance to find a new brain to compliment the new run-first philosophy instead of keeping a mind who appears addicted to the deep pass and calls plays from a script as common as a Denny's menu.

Of course, Brat had the best excuse; as good as a doctor's note: my quarterback got hurt. Well, that just wouldn't be right to fire a guy who lost his QB. After all, who can win with Ryan Fitzpatrick? Fair enough, Mr. Brown, but the Bratkowski shenanigans cost the Bengals at least one Playoff season and that should have been grounds enough to find someone else.

Yet it was not to be.

At first the Bengals shocked the world with their rushing prowess. The offensive line didn't have to pass protect as much, Benson was performing up to the team's expectations and the receivers had yet to become a fatal flaw. Bratkowski, for the most part, stayed out of the line of fire from fans and media, mostly because the team was now winning. His happiness, and more important, job security, reached a crescendo against the Chicago Bears in a game where his offense looked unstoppable.

Those happy times lasted exactly one more half, after which Chris Henry broke his forearm, the offense sat on the ball for the rest of the game, and then began to shrivel and die from that point on.

Without Henry, opposing defenses dared Cincinnati to go deep, and while it appeared that they really wanted to at times, no team was scared and for good reason; the Bengals passing game had eroded to nothing.

Still, Bratkowski could have adjusted. If you must run the ball the majority of the time---something 95 percent of the NFL does not agree with---then it only makes sense to utilize more than one runner. For the record, Benson is a top-five running back who I would not replace for anyone---maybe Chris Johnson, but I'm more loyal than that...I think.

Bernard Scott, though, is another talent worth showcasing. Scott should get up to---but not much more than---10 touches a game, and should be utilized in well-practiced screen plays. The man has uncanny hole recognition (easy now; I'm talking about running lanes) and has the speed to produce explosive plays---an oft-used word in the Marvin Lewis vocabulary. Scott has serious instinct and skill and couples as an exciting kick-returner; to regularly ignore this type of back in any sequence of play-calling seems, frankly, moronic.

In 2005, Bratkowski's offense was all the rage. The vertical passing game was sensational with arguably the best receiving corps and the best offensive line in the league. He too obviously liked it because it was never changed and still apparently limps along. After an embarrassing amount of losses in '08, he finally went to a more West Coast offensive style in the end and, lo and behold, he got a some wins. Late in ’09, when the pass looked juvenile, no adjustment like that was made, and if there were any, the players did not execute them. Key losses ensued.

An owner or a general manager (usually two separate people, but not for the Bengals) would see a person like that as an obstacle toward a championship. Replacing a head coach is a big shake-up that may not be in the best interest of the team as a whole, but coordinators are typically the first to get tossed around when things fall apart---which Chinua Achebe says will always eventually happen. Three defensive coordinators have worked in Cincinnati since Marvin Lewis has been with the Bengals; Bratkowski predates even Marvin. When Mike Brown has his man, he has his man.

But one would think that Brown would embrace change and innovation. His own father, Paul Brown, is credited as being the most important figure in football history based largely on the changes he instituted to the game. I, for one, believe that if Paul Brown hadn't changed the way offenses were run when he did, American Football would look a lot more like rugby today.

So what can we expect for the future?

For starters we can expect Brat back. All those calling for his head: I hear ya, but it's not going to happen until the man in charge thinks that's the best way to go and we may have to wait until he dies for that to happen. Literally.

The Bengals have the personnel to keep running, so we run. Benson will continue to be our offensive keystone and all strategy should be based around his continued success. Chad Ochocinco will be eager to have a bigger year, and based on Marvin's comments, the team will look to acquire additional weapons---without hopefully catching the attention of the ATF.

I covet a large possession receiver who becomes a reliable target, excels on third-and-medium and takes pressure off of Chad. He doesn't have to be fast and stretch the field; lots of receivers are fast. If Terrell Owens finds himself a Bengal this offseason, he would serve as a patch to stop the bleeding right away, but an alternate strategy will have to be in place for any of it to work. Another hopeful person to change the misfortune of the Bengals passing attack is last year's third-round draft pick, tight end Chase Coffman. I've given up and moved on from thinking receiver Jerome Simpson will ever make an impact, but I am optimistic that Andre Caldwell will take another step toward becoming a legitimate receiver next year. These guys and a couple of new bodies should help Carson in 2010.

Yet the future of the offense still rests in the coaches’ booth, next to the owners booth elevated high above the playing field. Like a Caesar looking down upon his subjects, our favorite team is at the mercy of the whims of Mike Brown and his money, and neither is ready to cut Bratkowski loose. Therefore, we all must suffer through Brat's redundant play-calling and the stubborn insistence of always following his script. How many Bengal fans will it cost? When will common sense prevail once more?

There is no real possibility, but for fun, let's say Brat is fired. First we celebrate like it's or own Mardi Gras, and then we search for new candidates.

I like the idea of returning to the Sam Wyche School of Offense and hiring Turk Schonert, though I admit that his numbers as offensive coordinator and apparently his perceived report with players stink.

Still, the man logged many hours on the sideline with Wyche when he backed up Boomer in the 80s, and the no-huddle of that era produced the Bengals a league-leading offense in the 1988 season. He knows the no-huddle well, prepared the Bills to run it last training camp and managed three points the entire preseason using it. He was canned 10 days before the season opener, complained publicly that head coach Dick Jauron felt his scheme was too complicated and hasn't been heard from since. Players like Lee Evans and Trent Edwards supported the firing at the time, claiming that the team wasn't buying into the system. Other personnel within the organization said Schonert had a hard time handling feedback from his fellow coaches and players. Sounds messy.

If you would prefer a coordinator that compliments the running game, consider another former Bill Walsh disciple, Paul Hackett. Here’s a guy who had success at Kansas City and in New York with the Jets, running the ball with such talents such as Marcus Allen and Curtis Martin. He may be a more comfortable fit with Marvin’s way of doing things.

Either way, history has proven that innovation leads to success in the NFL, and when a new twist is applied to an old idea, it can often take the league by storm. But not for long; that's really what NFL stands for. Today's coaches have every conceivable advantage of scouting any team out there and the smallest trends and patterns are now quickly detected. What worked in the last four games will likely be severely challenged in the next four, and constant adjustment and innovation is how the best teams win.

Cincinnati switched up their offense early on last year and made some strides by doing so, but then stubbornly stuck to it and found that their offensive blueprint had been spammed out to every inbox in the league. The secret was out and the Bengals had no more cards to play. Instead of figuring out ways to go around or under or over the wall, they committed themselves to keep running right into it until the wall gave way. The wall never budged and a team with gobs of offensive innovation, the New Orleans Saints, won the Super Bowl instead.

A change should be made but it won't. Under the current offensive philosophy, the Bengals might always make the wild-card round, but without a fresh spark of new thinking, a championship seems perpetually out of reach.

Mojokong---I no longer want to talk about Bob Bratkowski pretty much ever again.

Terrell Owens: The Tragedy

In about a month, Terrell Owens will become a free agent at a time when his value might be at the lowest of his career. Buffalo had a rough year and Owens was no exception, posting modest numbers in most categories. At 36, he's old, and the explosiveness that put up the touchdowns and the dollars of the past is seemingly gone. Plus, and you knew this couldn't be ignored, he has a colorful past of: openly speaking his mind when most would consider it inappropriate, theatrics with the media, demonstrative celebrations of personal triumph, and generally brash and (in the opinion of some) excessively self-promoting behavior. Those reasons too will limit the amount of interested teams, and in turn, lower his price tag. Yet that is not his tragedy.

If TO still wants to play, it's not for more money. He has hit his jackpot, and while the three to five million bucks he'll make next year is still out of this world to most of us (except my Dad, of course; he's uber loaded), it's a modest sum for today's starting receivers. Brian Billick wrote in his book, More Than A Game, that veteran players in their twilight are only there to win championships. Billick wrote that he loved having those kind of players on his teams because not only could they still play, they helped the younger players as well. If that's true, Owens isn't just going to sign on with the biggest dollar amount he can find; the team that signs him will have to convince him that they can win the Super Bowl.

Enter Mike Brown (roll your eyes all you want). Here is a guy who is clearly unafraid of signing the most volatile and potentially harmful personalities in the universe; Darth Vader was rumored to have once tried out as a pass-rushing end for the Bengals in 2004.

But to compare Terrell Owens to a sith lord just isn't right; in fact, TO doesn't seem like much of a problem anymore. The last I remember hearing from that certain sector of the media frenzy was that they, the media, who needed anything at all to fill the voracious sports news cycle with something, were baiting him into saying something crazy. Who's the villain in that scenario?

The better question is: was TO ever a problem? I think the answer is still yes. Thinking back to him screaming at every single person on the sideline had to have been irksome and tough to tolerate as a teammate, and any single player who puts himself above the team isn't seeing the big picture and therefore isn't worth anyone's time. I think while he will always be his brash, verbose self, TO has learned the damage that public infighting creates. At least I'd like to think so. At 36, he has to have absorbed some importance of what a Super Bowl victory means to a person's career.

What Owens doesn't do is get arrested. While I didn't watch any of his reality TV show, those that did said that it was really boring. To me that's a good thing. We already have one super-mouth; bringing in a second might cancel out the other and neutralize the affect. Why wouldn't Chad and TO get along? When one is upset he didn't get the ball, the other can explain the situation as a person whose been there before. Marvin would likely tolerate Owens because, a) he has to if Brown signed him, and b) TO might be a lot of things, but a bum he is not. He works hard and stays in shape; coaches like those characteristics in a player.

With the absence of the salary cap, it no longer matters what they get paid. If Brown wants to give him 12 million bucks for one season, who cares?; it's now his money and we're all at the mercy of its whims. Last season a person could argue that Owens would count too much against the cap and that might be valid, but now, we as fans can only put together a wish list and hope for the best.

Yet, the most important reason to get Owens is what he does on the field, of course.

I keep hearing that the Bengals need to draft a speedy receiver and I don't see it that way at all. What the Bengals don't need to do next season is stop running the ball; Cedric Benson has special ability right now and Cincinnati will ride on his shoulders again next year for good reason. The passing attack unquestionably needs to acquire more weapons to make up for Chris Henry's loss in particular, but not necessarily with lots of speed.

First off, TO is still pretty fast, but that's not the point. Chad Ochocinco is the deep threat for the Bengals and will be until he's 40. A lot of analysts point to the void that Chris Henry left; Owens can fulfill a lot of what Henry could do and then some (like block).

The thing that was so sorely missing late last season was a reliable target on third down. Chad was swarmed with defenders, Coles and Caldwell simply underperformed, the tight-end situation was laughable and the Bengals never did get the hang of the screen play. Owens is a bigger target that can separate and get open, a veteran player with proven instincts, a match-up problem for opposing defenses, what more do you want?

Outside of the possibility of Brandon Marshall hitting the market, TO might be the best available free-agent receiver out there. Sure the team can draft one, but wouldn't it be nice to sign an impact player and draft at a different position, and really dress yourself like a championship team for 2010?

At this point, it seems like Terrell Owens landing in Cincinnati next year is a long-shot. If anything, it's likely Owens stays in Buffalo and wastes his precious remaining talents on a throwaway quarterback from the Ivy League, and that is his tragedy. The lost years; the forgotten road.

Mojokong---TO is a mix of Peer Gynt, Zaphod Beeblebrox and B.A. Baracus. All once powerful, but eventually kind of sad.

Season Review: Part Three

Heading into Week 6, the Bengals were officially cruising.  They'd won four in a row, three of those over teams widely considered the favorite, and had done so in bruising fashion.  They were well on their high-horse and were begging to be knocked down a few pegs.  The Houston Texans---a team many still thought of as random and nameless---unassumingly rode into to town to do just that.  
 
The game started out strangely with the Bengals stalling on their first two drives on holding penalties, but still kept things scoreless with a blocked field goal in the early goings.  After a beautiful screen pass to Steve Slaton aided by some terrific open-field blocks, the Texans took a 14-7 lead only to watch Cincinnati score 10 points in the final two minutes of the half.  
 
(For the record, Shayne Graham nailed a deep field goal as time expired, made possible by a Chris Crocker interception; both players have plummeted in popularity amongst Bengal fans since then.)
 
The Texans took over after halftime and Steve Slaton promptly fumbled the ball away but his knee was down before the ball came loose; the ruling was overturned.  For whatever reason, that would be the moment when the Bengals lost that week.
 
Houston marched down the field and recaptured the lead when Crocker blew his coverage and allowed an easy touchdown.  Then Daniel Coates astoundingly made a nice catch, but immediately reverted to character the next second when he fumbled on the ensuing tackle.  Houston tight end Owen Daniels made a terrific one-handed catch in the end-zone on his way to likely his best game of the season.  Dennis Roland gave up a third-down sack on the next Bengal possession, J.T. Foschi later fumbled when the Bengals were running out of chances, and so on.  
 
The trap was sprung.
 
The Bengals were soundly beaten 28-17 on their home turf that day.  They were outplayed and outcoached, as Houston dialed up play-actions and screens at the right times and predicated on the Bengals tendencies to overpursue when flowing to the ball-carrier.  They were the first team of the 2009 season to effectively use Cincinnati's dominant run defense against itself; you could see Zimmer on the sideline waving his playbook around and yelling at his players on the field.  
 
It was also the game that showed just how bad the tight-end position had become.  Two costly second-half fumbles eliminated the chance for a comeback, and players that lose games are difficult for anyone to support.  The groans of fans to see the unproven draft-pick Chase Coffman at tight end grew louder after the loss and many felt that it was just stubbornness from Marvin Lewis and his staff that was keeping the youngster off the field.  The team later disclosed the Coffman had bone spurs in his ankle and required surgery to remove them; an operation that ended his season without playing a single regular-season snap.
 
The loss also reopened the skepticism many harbored about the Bengals' legitimacy as a contender.  While 4-2 was a decent start to the season, it certainly didn't prove much about the long-haul and about the sustainability of this Marvin Lewis team.  If anything, it proved that they weren't likely to match the misery of a year before which was in and of itself was a surprise to many of these same skeptics.  Nonetheless, Cincinnati found itself in first place with three consecutive weeks at home coming up.  The loss was a setback but not a deal-breaker; the men in stripes had yet to peak.  
 
For every Bengal fan, whether in the stands or on the couch, the following Sunday was perfect.  
 
Players  often talk to the media about achieving the “complete game”; a nearly mythical happenstance where all 45 men, almost by chance, focus their collective talents to produce one unbeatable performance.  This kind of harmony hadn't manifested with the Bengals since Carson was still young and exciting.  It had been so long, that rarely did anyone realistically consider it a possibility anymore.
 
Then it happened.
 
The Chicago Bears were battered from the get-go, unable to stop Cincinnati from scoring touchdowns on their first four drives.  The Bengal defense proved to be equally unkind, and the Bears limped into the locker room at halftime down 31-3.  
 
There wasn't much else to write about that day.  Chicago played a zone defense that Carson had no problems picking apart.  The Bengals pass rush was good enough to rattle an already turnover-prone Jay Cutler.  They day was over early; the home team had already won.  Go home happy; beers are on that guy over there.  
 
And they did.  Waves of stunned euphoria extended outward from the epicenter of Paul Brown Stadium throughout Greater Cincinnati and beyond.  A crushing, a bonified smack-down, a complete game had  once more been achieved. Even the stone-cold curmudgeons of the world had to now allow the slightest possibility that the Bengals could perhaps make an impact in '09 after all.   For the next 48 hours, we were a very proud city.  
 
Yet in all the revelry, in all the good-tidings, a negative side-effect was brewing from such a thorough drubbing.  While the win boosted the confidence and enthusiasm of the Bengal fan-base, it also supplied the example of perfection the team was apparently capable of executing.  “Why can't they do that every game?” so many wondered, and when, invariably, the team played poorly again, frustrations began to boil over once more.
 
Fans.
 
Mojokong---at our best.