Thursday:
I was relieved to see that beers were
sold at Paul Brown Stadium during this training camp. They were
still $7.50, and they were probably last year's leftover kegs, but
the August sun made them necessary. That isn't true. The fact that
they existed at all and that I was off work made them necessary, but
a relief nonetheless.
I asked a staff person if beer was also
available on the higher levels. She didn't know but allowed me to
explore. I took a rickety escalator up and then a second one up even
higher. On my Jacob's Ladder through Bengal World, I began to
notice some shabbier bits of the stadium. Whole ceilings were
raggedly ripped up between levels, showing cracked concrete and
rebar. One has to assume that some kind of home-improving was going
down in various spots throughout the Browns' residence and that the
unsightly parts were simply projects behind schedule, but the more
interior sections between levels had an aged Death Star type of décor
and for the more ill of heart would have demanded a dusk mask to
traverse. Once into cleaner air and the vastness of an empty
sports-arena concourse, my heart sank to see the concession stands
gated off and faceless. Only mildly deterred, I soldiered on to find
an elevator nearby, actually four rotund elevators, neatly encased in
a well air-conditioned glass room. It felt like I had stumbled into
the world's smallest airport terminal. I pressed the buttoned, and
immediately one behind me yawned open, exposing its fancy lighting
and sharp tile floors. All the buttons inside were confusing. There
was a PL, an FL, an SL, and other L's. I tried PL, which opened up
to a level that appeared private and exclusive. The kind of level
where employees become very alarmed at your presence if they don't
already know you. The kind of level that felt like a natural
extension of the little glass elevator room. Next I pushed FL,
which brought me to a floor that had all the feel of a basement.
There were families, I guessed of players, that were getting on
opposite elevators. I decided I probably wasn't allowed to be there
either so I stayed inside. As our doors closed simultaneously, one
of the families and their elevator attendant all gave me puzzled
expressions. I felt I could have used my own attendant. My last
option was SL, and when the doors opened a third time, I nearly
sprang out determined to end this confusion.
Once seated, after purchasing my
Michelob Light and obligatorily spilling some on my shoes, I found my
seat and unbuttoned every piece of clothing I could while still
remaining decent. Sweat rolled down my lower back. I decompressed
for a minute or two, drank half my beer, grabbed my mechanical pencil
and started taking notes.
The first thing I noticed is that this
practice was going to be like the others I'd seen: half-assed. I
know it's easy for me to say, sitting in the shade drinking,
but I thought training camp was supposed to be tougher than that. I
thought people were desperately clawing the eyes out of each other in
hopes of landing a job. Nope. The most contact I saw on the day was
Marvin Lewis getting knocked over when he shaded like an outside
linebacker on a slant pattern drill. The crowd cheered, Marvin
laughed. That isn't to say I was devoid of observations, but in
general, I was underwhelmed with the sense of urgency demonstrated in
the Bengals' practices.
It
forced me to think about it further, though. Perhaps my expectations
weren't realistic. The new CBA had undoubtedly changed the culture
of practice altogether with its favoritism toward play safety, which,
of course, I am all for, so they had me there. On top of that, I
trust Marvin's program and I think he is tune with modern-day
football, so I guess he knows best. Speaking of which, and most
importantly, I have never coached football nor had I been to a
professional football practice prior to the 2012 training camp, so I
realized I had no right to complain. Nonetheless, I worry about the
potential decrease in tackling quality across the league if teams
can't adequately practice it.
Once
things got going, I noticed a couple highlights.
Donald
Lee is a very good run blocker. He was eating Dan Skuta alive on
one-on-one drills. All throughout the weekend, I noticed a good
amount of multiple tight-end sets, and Lee's run-blocking skills
might make that a preferred look come September.
On
that note, I have noticed an emphasis on getting the ball to Jermaine
Gresham. I know a lot has been written about it, and even he is
aware of his potential, but one can see for themselves in practice
that Gruden and the Bengals plan to use him even more.
Roderick
Muckleroy impressed me that day. He ran well, and he seemed to be in
good spots. I look forward to seeing the backup linebackers in
Friday's preseason game. I think each one has shined at times and at
this point, I just want to see them hit somebody. If Muckleroy can
become a true defensive substitute and not just a special teamer, it
will alleviate the loss of Brandon Johnson some. He has been in Mike
Zimmer's meeting rooms for the past three years, and he knows his way
around, now he just needs to stay healthy and get better.
Some
of my other notes from that day include how I didn't like seeing the
quarterbacks tuck and run so much in practice. I know you want the
QB to automatically do the smart thing all the time, but I don't see
how it makes anybody else better. Especially Bruce Gradkowski. We
all know he can run, but he needs to learn how to actually throw the
ball better. I also wrote down that the wide receivers were
consistently beating the corners. This could be a case of veterans
taking it easier in practice, but no one looked like a dynamic,
play-making defensive back.
Speaking
of dynamic, A.J. Green made a deep touchdown catch that inspired me to
write the name “Jerry Rice” with a question mark behind it. He
may be close to being the best wide receiver in the NFL.
The
final air-horn blast sounded, the fans gathered around the first row and
lowered their paraphernalia down to the players on the field for
autographs. I finished my beer about 30 rows up and strolled out.
Saturday:
The
inter-squad scrimmage. Not much different from Thursday, except that
I didn't bother with the second level and found a prime seat on the
50 instead. The voice of Dave Lapham boomed over the stadium's PA
like a football God, as he and Dan Hoard described their observations
to the live and presumably radio audiences. Lap broke the world
record for saying the word “football”, murmuring it well over
3,000 times throughout the day. He promised the fans that we would
see full contact and eventually, albeit briefly, that was so, but
when the day started as a regular practice with two-hand tagging, I
felt I'd been cheated. Then I reminded myself of the cost I'd paid
to enter the stadium and settled down. The team practiced third-down
scenarios, and the defense won. Later they practiced
goal-line hand offs and the defense won. While it may
be valid to harbor concerns about the kind of yardage this offense
can realistically generate, it was comforting to see the defense show
its teeth a little early on.
I
watched a lot of Vontaze Burfect that day and watched him get a big
hit on one play, celebrate aggressively, and then whiff on a weak
tackle attempt on the very next play. It's as if he spends up his
entire adrenaline supply on contact and has to let his energy bar
refill before he can make another big pop. He's like a linebacking
cheetah in this way. Nonetheless, the guy has natural ability
radiating through him and if polished enough, can be a difference
maker.
The
live contact was minimal and I overheard fans griping on the way out.
Even Lap had a hard time getting excited, but again, it was free. I
came away thinking how a Mike Zimmer defense is consistently well
built and how it will be the calling card of this team once more this
season.
Sunday:
During
the mock game, I didn't take notes, I just watched. I was with my
girl and some friends and we sang that stupid old Bengals song when
the offense scored, and drank our beers and reacted accordingly to
the action on the field between light conversation. It felt like
watching golf on a football field. I noticed more power formations
and more Gresham. I spent a lot of time watching Dre Kirpatrick on
the sidelines, wondering why he was wearing an arm sling, and then
thinking it wasn't him because I hadn't heard anything about his arm,
but then not finding him elsewhere on either sideline and settling on
that it was him and that I had missed something on the his injury
status. I knew Brandon Ghee had arm troubles, but it wasn't Ghee, it
had to have been Kirpatrick. I was stumped, and I guess I still am.
Ultimately,
I didn't think it was all of an impressionable event. AJ Green was
exciting but what's new? Devon Still and Brandon Thompson looked
active. Gradkowski struggled.
After
all the practicing and mocking and scrimmaging, it is still difficult
for me to assess what kind of team the Bengals have without comparing
them to someone else. There's no real measuring stick this way. The
words I would use to describe the Bengals' preparation include
relaxed, subdued and
quiet. Perhaps
one could sense this as a collected confidence, while others may view
it as slacking, but either way, this is not a fiery bunch—with the
exception of Burfect. What kind of an effect on the season this
reserved nature will have is hard to say. Maybe it will help their
long-term endurance and pay dividens later on. Or maybe, there will
be some growing pains getting back into regular-season hitting shape.
But like I said before, I trust Marvin Lewis and his program and I
assume he knows what he's doing. A little preseason action should
help us get a better grip on what we're dealing with in 2012.
Mojokong—behind
the times.
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