Disappointed? Of
course. Surprised? Only a little.
When you look back on the year as a whole, what happened on
Saturday makes perfect sense. The
Bengals entered this year with tepid expectations. There were some talented pieces in place for
sure, but there were still holes abound and a first-round playoff exit seemed
to be the max potential this group could muster.
In a season where the
defense did all of the heavy lifting to actually get them into the postseason, the
Wild-Card game unfolded into one where the offense need only the bare minimum of
output to advance. They had a chance to put
a dreadful performance behind them and sneak out with a win, but a lofty toss
to an open A.J. Green in the endzone with under three minutes left drifted 12
inches out of reach and doomed the hopes of a Bengals Super Bowl run. With the game lost, and the blame squarely on
the offense, some mental unpacking is in order to fully gain closure on the
year.
Understandably, a lot of backlash has come upon the red
crown of Andy Dalton’s head for such a lousy showing in his second chance at
some franchise glory. He was positively
rotten against the Texans, freaking out nearly every time he dropped back to throw. The confidence of the passing game looked
shot after Jermaine Gresham dropped the first toss by Dalton. A nightmare ensued where the team’s best
player became invisible and the offensive brain-trust invested their future upon
the abilities of unproven complimentary receivers that flamed out under the
pressure. Sure, Dalton is the man that
makes the throws, but there is a chain-of-command in place with every offense,
and when things break down as thoroughly as they did over the weekend, the
whole chain needs examined.
First off are the guys up front. Offensive line coach, Paul Alexander, was
dealt two huge blows in the preseason when Trevelle Wharton and Kyle Cook went
down with significant injuries. Replacements Clint Boling and Trevor Robinson
filled in admirably and really appeared to be a cohesive unit after the bye
week. Then Cook came back and regained
his starting spot and the line was never as effective again. I’m a believer in the center position. When it is stable, the offense flows rather
seamlessly, when it isn’t, its production suffers. I was against bringing Cook back into the
starting spot. I know the old maxim
about not losing a starting spot to injury, and I realize the expertise the
Cook brings when making calls at the line, but the production speaks for
itself. With Robinson making the snaps,
Dalton got in a groove, BenJarvus Green-Ellis became suddenly relevant, and the
wins started stacking up. Then against
Dallas, they eased Cook back in to the rotation, ultimately making him a
starter again, and the offensive output became increasingly less. The tailspin continued until it culminated
into one of the worst offensive showings in playoff history. I’m not blaming Cook entirely, but the switch
at center allowed for a disconnection along the offensive line that was never
adequately repaired.
The line didn’t protect well at all against the Texans,
baffled and helpless to counter the stunts by the Houston pass rush. This breakdown added to the already
alarmingly pronounced anxiety Dalton has demonstrated in the pocket this season—bafflingly
opposite of what he showed in his rookie year—and kept that elusive rhythm we
hear so much about from ever fully developing.
What they were doing well, though, was creating running lanes for
Green-Ellis, but strangely enough, Jay Gruden turned his back on this style of
attack.
Gruden has allowed this offense to overachieve for two
straight seasons with his sensible scheme and play-calling sequence, but his
ideas got the best of him in this past game.
I felt he got too cute. I heard
Brian Billick say that defenses can take away any threat they want to, but they
do so at a cost. Cover one player too
much and you run the risk of leaving someone else open. This is what Gruden saw. Houston decided it wasn’t going to get beat
by A.J. Green in the first half, so they shaded him and took him away. This, in theory, meant the other receivers
had more room to operate, especially Gresham.
The Texans were down to their fourth-string inside linebackers and
Gruden probably assumed they couldn’t cover.
He may have been right, too, but Gresham’s pervasive lack of focus
haunted him again and he was unable to convert on his targets at all in the
first half.
So, with Green eliminated and Gresham too zoned out, it was
either up to Marvin Jones, Andrew Hawkins and Ryan Whalen, or go back to the
running game. When Green-Ellis got his
chances, he tore off yardage, and those backup middle linebackers showed their
vulnerability. The line looked ready to
maul and even John Conner was getting his hat on the right guys. Gruden, though, convinced the Bengals weren’t
a running team, persisted to try and throw it, especially on second down. This trend proved disastrous as incompletions
and sacks got the offense “off-schedule” and set up desperation third-down
conversion attempts.
Prior to the game, I advocated that the Bengals should have
spread out their formations and throw to as many different receivers as
possible coming out of the gate. I
wanted to see them pressure the questionable back end of the Texans defense
early to set the tone and score early. Once
that became painfully obvious that it wasn’t working and that the run was,
pounding Green-Ellis more on second down became the logical move. Logic, however, never worked its way into the
equation and The Law Firm ended with a 5.7 yards-per-carry average on only 11
attempts. Had the Bengals chose to
grind it out a bit more, the time-of-possession battle would have been closer,
the defense would be less worn out, the offensive line could get in rhythm and
a field goal or two would have had an effect on the closing minutes of the
game. Bumbled screen attempts, bad
passing reads and an insistence to keep trying to move the ball through the
air, killed any semblance of a balanced attack.
I think Jay Gruden is quality coordinator with a lot of good football
ideas, but he got away from the basics and I think it lost the game.
Dalton himself will hear the grumblings about his
inabilities, but there isn’t much he or the organization can do to radically change
the quarterback position. We fans (and
media) assume that every franchise relentlessly search for the next “franchise
quarterback”. We had the Golden Boy with
the Golden Arm in Carson Palmer, the exact prototype that scouts drool
over. He was big, sort of mobile, had a
cannon arm and was intelligent. It didn’t
work out. Then they drafted Dalton,
physically meh, and not coming from a collegiate power house, the front
office were satisfied with their guy even if the pundits and draft wizards
weren’t. He exceeded all expectations by
taking a bad Bengals team to the playoffs his rookie year, and then followed it
up by doing the same the next year with a marginally improved group. After losing both times in the first round,
though, folks are up in arms about what he can’t do.
Dalton will never have a great arm; he isn’t that kind of
guy. You’re not getting Jeff George when
you draft Andy Dalton. Instead you have
the quintessential “game-manager” filled with interesting intangibles that only
exist from the neck up. The team likes
him because he is emotionally unflappable.
Not too high, not too low. Even
Steven. His first year, he flashed an
uncanny pocket presence, but since the middle of that year, the ability has
strangely subsided and now looks to have vanished altogether. I don’t know how one improves on such a thing—Zen
Buddhism perhaps—but unless he can figure out how to get back to playing loose,
this offense may never be up to snuff.
What we should remind ourselves, though, is how hard it is
finding a better replacement. Those calling
for his head now, would have to kick themselves if they got their wish only to
end up seeing Kyle Orton or someone of similar ilk taking the ball under
center. The “franchise guys” don’t grow
on trees, and if you think you’ve found one, you may just end up with Carson
Palmer or Drew Bledsoe. There are no
guarantees. I don’t think Andy Dalton
is a premier player at his position, but I don’t think it’s realistic to ask
the organization to always have one of those waiting in the wings of their
roster. There have been other examples
of mediocre quarterbacks making it and even winning the Super Bowl. To say Dalton can never take the Bengals that
far seems fatalistic.
In essence, these Bengals made it as far as they should
have. No underdog won in the playoff
round. The postseason is a harsh
reminder of a team’s true identity. The Bengals’
identity is made up of a tremendous defense that plays with passion and pride
and an offense still learning itself and the league. To say the Bengals should have made it
further by now has some truth to it, but if they return to the playoffs next
year and arrive at the AFC Championship game, will it matter then? Sometimes babies fall when they’re learning
to walk, but that isn’t to say they will never walk at all.
Mojokong—disappointed but not disheartened.
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