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.