In Defense of Terrell Owens

This guy can't play?

Terrell Owens is back in the news for no good reason, really; he wants to play in the NFL but nobody wants him. I would say there are tens of millions of people in the same situation

The weird part though, is that TO can actually play football but experts claim it's his attitude that is earning him the cold shoulder. I thought his attitude with a struggling Bengals team was fine last year. I don't remember hearing anything about tantrums or that he became the infamous locker room “cancer” he's been labeled elsewhere. It may not have been a healthy locker-room culture, but I attribute that more to frustrated veterans dealing with a letdown of a season rather than purely the presence of Terrell Owens.

TO works hard and stays in shape. Yes, he's old and coming off of knee surgery but I think he's getting a raw deal for the wrong reasons by the rest of the league. Why shouldn't the Titans be interested in him? They want Hasselback to throw more vertically, they're not satisfied with the receivers they've filled in for the injured Kenny Britt, and TO is that kind of receiver to fit into that kind of offense.

If they're worried about TO dropping balls, breaking off his routes, and shying away from dangerous hits, then they have a valid point. TO the player seemed more frustrating than TO the teammate last season. He put up big numbers and at times was sort of dominant, but he and Carson never got on the same page and the two persisted that way all season long. I attribute a great deal of this to the reason why the Bengals collapsed and died after suffering through a ten-game losing streak in 2010. The former Bengals play-caller, Bob Bratkowski, forced TO into the action too much last year; Even Terrell Owens himself had to question the play-calling even though it benefited him the most. The problem with Owens was this: the Bengals didn't need him, but when they brought him in anyway, they used him in the wrong role.

Just in it for the Super Bowl party.

A good comparison of a similar situation handled differently is his buddy and former teammate, Mr. Ochocinco in New England. The Patriots already have their star in Wes Welker, a young tight end (or two), and some complimentary role players. They've tried working Chad in slowly with little success, but the rest of the offense hums along without any problems. TO signed when the Bengals already had their star in Ocho, had a young tight end, and some complimentary role players. The Bengals threw a ton of passes to No. 81 and went all in on the success of the new guy with a big name and lost. I bet if the Patriots threw at Chad all the time, his numbers would obviously be better, but that seamless design of an offense would run less efficiently and Brady would have to force passes to Ocho that contradict common sense. Instead, they either can use him more later in the season as they adjust their offensive scheme, or just continue to largely ignore him and win more games. Either way, TO, like Chad is now, should have either been a compliment or a non-factor—not a focal point. If there is another team in TO's future, they would be wise to keep this in mind.

I can't imagine TO demanding a ton of money. If his knee can hold up, he could really help a team like the Titans, and if not, the risk is low. Tennessee offense reeks of atrophy and decay right now. Their running game is uncharacteristically nonexistent, their receivers seem to get worse every week and Britt isn't coming back this season. They're in the thick of things in a soft AFC South and are too relevant to let the offense grind to a halt. I won't say they need TO, but I think they could really use him.

TO has done a lot of regrettable stuff in his life and he burns under the hot gaze of the media microscope. We've seen him range all across the emotional spectrum from explosions of anger to weeping over his quarterback. He damn sure ain't perfect, but to say that he is unable to play football like a professional seems unfounded after a rather docile 2010. I still think it's a non-story that he hasn't signed, but the reasons as to why that is are off-base and almost unfair.

Mojokong—get your pop-rocks ready.

Everything Has Its Price

Carson Palmer took the warm weather with him back to his native land of California as he was mercifully traded by The Tyrant to the Oakland Raiders earlier this week. It's been rainy and crappy here ever since, yet spirits are high within the Bengal fan base.

The Golden Boy quarterback famously quit on the Bengals after a 2010 season that burned and crashed like a German zeppelin within Paul Brown Stadium. Palmer could not soldier on and remain the company man that he so expertly fulfilled for eight long years. He felt unloved and frustrated with those around him in the end. Fans threw garbage in his front yard. He didn't want $50 million dollars if it meant one more day with the Bengals. “Keep it,” he said.

Then, on the other side, you had Big Daddy Brown with his arms folded across his belly and his bottom lip sticking out, turned rigidly away from Palmer's direction. MB wasn't going to pander to a crybaby's wishes. The star player made a deal, signed a contract and had to fulfill his promise. That's the law; that's America. If he caved to his premier guy—his face-of-the-franchise—then everyone down to the long-snapper would try to muscle him around. No sir, he simply wasn't going to get rid of Carson Palmer so that he could prove a valuable point to the world: Mike Brown will not be strong-armed. So that was that; Carson would remain retired, and life would carry on without him. No offer would change The Tyrant's mind.

Meanwhile, thousands of miles West, another quarterback dropped back to pass, scrambled out of the pocket and dove forward, stretching the ball out just short of a first down. As he struck the earth, his right collarbone gave way under gravity's pressure and snapped, rendering the big man's throwing arm useless for many weeks. After the game—a win for the Raiders—Oakland found itself with a 4-2 record but without a capable QB. Their beloved patriarch, Al Davis, had passed away the week before, and there was pressure within the organization to just win now, baby.

The skull-phone rang in The Tyrants chamber and echoed off the stainless steel walls of his bomb-shelter office. He picked up the head and listened to his former employer, Hue Jackson, beg him for his forlorn QB. The offer that could not be refused was made. One and possibly two treasured first-round picks for a player no Bengal fan wanted in Cincinnati anymore; there was nothing to think about.

Of course, when discussing the Bengals general manager, one has to think back to the alleged Washington Redskins offer for Mr. Ochocinco in 2008, when the famed mouth tried publicly campaigning for an escape from Cincinnati. Brown refused two first-round picks then, and was burned once more when that information became public.

This time, though, he hung up the skull having made a deal. He made the right decision, but, as mentioned, it was a no-brainer. The fact that we Bengals fans feel good that our GM didn't do the stupid thing again and allow his stubbornness to foil sealing such a terrific deal, speaks to the character of the guy making these decisions. The man writing the checks and the man collecting the talent should be two different men, otherwise the business is subject to bias and emotion that can ruin good decision making. But not this time, thank God.

Yet, rather than focus more on the bad, I'd like to cheer things up and look at how everyone involved in this new arrangement is simply thrilled.

First off is the man himself, Carson Palmer, now dressed in the best uniform in football and back in the time-zone he was born into. He now has a tremendous play-caller, an abundance of pure speed in his receiving corps and an out-of-this-world running back to play with. He has a new fan base that now love him, his old Heisman number, and a new lease on life. This is the breath of fresh air that old No. 9 was gasping for, this is what will make him happy.

Then there are the Raider fans. They are fueled with excitement and optimism with the return of their California native son. They felt they were Super Bowl contenders with Jason Campbell, and now they feel even more so with Carson. In fact, I've always considered the two to be comparable quarterbacks in their style and size, and Hue Jackson won't have to change much of his scheme due to their similarities. If the Raiders do make a playoff run and wind up in the AFC Championship, the 2013 pick the Raiders traded to the Bengals materializes into another first-round pick in the deal, and once more, everyone wins.

Finally, are the Bengals. With their new premium picks, they can beef up a brimming stockpile of quality young talent that looks promising and exciting thus far. With two first-rounders in the next two drafts, the Bengals can lock up areas for years to come and really help themselves to a bright future. Even Woody Dalton should feel better having no longer to think about a Carson Palmer appearance in the Bengals locker room anymore, and Marvin Lewis won't have to answer more questions about a topic he doesn't like talking about. We Bengals fans get to put to rest the tired saga of Carson Palmer, and can rally behind our own 4-2 record.

Yes sir, this is a fine day for football and a damn interesting turn in the story of the Bengals. It marks a distinct and clear-cut chapter break that begins anew with the Woody Dalton era. The Carson Palmer segment of Bengal history is over but leaves us with a moral: take nothing at face value. 

Mojokong—so long and thanks for all the picks. 

First-Quarter Report

How strange all this has been. After the Bengals lost their twelfth game in the finale in Baltimore last season, we all feared another prolonged drought of winning football in Cincinnati. Yet only four regular-season games later, we're feeling much better about things. The weird part though, is that this team should not be this competitive. When the star quarterback and star receivers and star corner all pack up and move on, there is supposed to be some fallout, but this team is better than the 2010 version despite its inexperience and youth. How could this be?

Change

Naturally, we can point to what's different from then. Last week on TV, I saw Matt Ryan sitting on the bench and talking with his quarterbacks coach. Seeing that coach felt like seeing a floating apparition of a distant grandparent in a creepy attic. It was Bob Bratkowski himself; he might as well have been wearing chains and a bed sheet.

Removing such a failed philosopher from the field was the smartest decision The Tyrant has made in years. I'm still convinced that he didn't wanna do it, but had to save his own head. Brat was tossed to the bloodthirsty mob and a ray of sunshine poked through the black clouds above. It was a start to better days ahead.

His replacement, Jay Gruden, has brought a sense of simplicity to this offense. Some may view such an approach as too basic and easily thwarted, but I've always thought that football is a simple game often made needlessly complicated by strategy-crazy coaches. Besides, when building anything new, a basic framework must be put in place before any stylish décor can be applied. The west-coast skeleton of play-calling Gruden has displayed thus far makes a lot of sense while employing his young personnel. Some fans are already frustrated with the limited variety of plays called, but I'm confident that more wrinkles will become exposed along the way. The best offenses adjust from one phase to the next over the course of the season. The inability to do just that was perhaps the fatal flaw in Bratkowski's tenure here. As Gruden learns more about his players, I think he will expand the playbook and keep defenses one step behind along the way. At least that's the hope.

Then there is the new quarterback, Andy “Woody” Dalton. It seemed people were eager to point out the negatives with this kid. His arm's weak, he's not that big, he's got orange hair, but a lot of that has quieted after an impressive start to his pro career. While he still makes the natural mistakes the learning curve demands, he also shows the occasional glimpse of greatness.

Last week against Buffalo he found himself down by seven in the fourth quarter around midfield. On a pass play, he was flushed from the pocket, rolled out to his right, and hurled a wild pass down field that looked destined to sail into the sidelines for an incompletion. But then, out of nowhere, Jermaine Gresham appeared out of nowhere and pulled the pass in along the sideline, dragging both feet in bounds behind him. A few plays later, Woody shuffled into the endzone untouched on a quarterback draw for the game-tying touchdown. The Bengals came from behind to win that game and handed the Bills their first loss of the season. Dalton's early legacy evened out after a bad game in Week 3. Skeptics remain impressed, for now.

The other budding young supernova is AJ Green. Green's talent and potential is high-grade stuff and its effect when consumed is intoxicating and euphoric. Watching this guy haul in deep passes and sideline snags gives me the goosebumps. He still hasn't put it all together to truly take over the league, but it's coming, don't worry. Throw in Gresham's strength, hands and bar-brawling toughness and you have a premium passing attack to build around for seemingly ages (more on that later).

Changes defensively have made all the difference as well. The change that has had the biggest effect isn't a new free agent or draft pick but rather simply moving a player over a little on the field. Putting Rey Maualuga at middle linebacker jerked this defense to life like putting defibrillator paddles on a struggling heart. Dhani Jones used to wait on tackles; Rey goes and gets them. Sure he sometimes plugs the wrong running lane and he gets a little overly commando on his tackling technique, but he's making offenses—especially running backs—account for where he is at all times. On Monday morning sitting in their ice bath, running backs feel Rey Maualuga.

Let's not forget the new outside backers, Thomas Howard and Manny Lawson. Both have been pleasant surprises at their position and Howard's down field pass coverage has been most impressive. With the linebackers playing so well together, one has to wonder where Keith Rivers will fit in once he returns from injury. Perhaps Rivers will become more of a spot player that sees twenty snaps a game. Of course, such a violent position lends itself to injury and having Rivers as depth certainly can't hurt, but anointing him a starter again as soon as he's activated may not be the wisest of moves.

The secondary has not been the weak link as feared either. While Nate Clements isn't necessarily of all-pro caliber, he plays with a nice chip on his shoulder and isn't allowing huge plays against him all the time. Reggie Nelson has hit full stride under the Zimmer D, even becoming the hard-hitting safety Zim covets. I remember when Nelson was knocked for his tackling, now he's the one doing the knocking. This underrated performer has shown up on numerous situations this season with some grindstone type of play. Even Chris Crocker is keeping his age and slowness to a minimal. Leon Hall is an unchanging professional. You know what you're getting from Leon, and that's consistent quality play.

The defensive line is young and exciting as well. Carlos Dunlap and Geno Atkins are steadily improving into the stars they can become. Michael Johnson appears more disciplined and is finally utilizing his extreme athletic ability to its fullest. Domata Peko gets low on running downs and is back to smiling a lot these days. The biggest difference on this year's line though, is the return of Jonathan Fanene. While not putting up huge numbers or getting loads of sacks, Fanene's high motor shines through on game days. He's one tough hombre that takes his work seriously and has the physical characteristics of a Hell's Angel. Mix in the wily Frostee Rucker playing healthy and hard, and suddenly this no-name defense looks tough again. Zimmer's henchman are back and forcing punts to the fullest.

Consistency

Not everything has changed though. Still up in his lair, The Tyrant leers over his empty stadium and stuffs Burger King into his rich pie hole. He whips his secretaries and feeds living squirrels to his many doberman pinchers that sleep around his throne made of gold and human bone. He remains a blithering miser only intent on satisfying himself rather than the community that is stuck with his sorry ass.

One would think that a coach would want to keep a safe distance from a such a moral train wreck but Marvin Lewis signed up for more. The reasons aren't known to any of us. Maybe Marv likes the challenge of winning in the North Korea of the NFL. Maybe he enjoys the job security that comes with coaching the Bengals; you can lose and actually keep your job in Cincinnati. Or maybe, just maybe, Mike Brown isn't as bad as I make him out to be, but I doubt it.

The reason doesn't matter. Marvin is still here even if all the other listed components aren't, and, although I was dubious at first, I think that's a good thing. He's done this for a while. He knows how the league works, and you can see his logic come through on many personnel decisions. His in-game decisions have been fairly criticized, frustrating the hell out of us in the process, but what he lacks as a game-manager, he makes up for as an actual player-developer. If you think about Marvin Lewis working in a more reasonable organization it wouldn't be that far-fetched to picture him at least making it to the Super Bowl by now.

I also get the sense that Marvin is more confident these days. He slipped up to the media after Week 3 when he told reporters that they would be 2-2 after playing the Bills, but I thought that whole thing was overblown. However, in other press conferences, Marvin has the tone of a person who isn't worried about his team anymore. He knows they will make some mistakes and he's okay with certain kinds of them, but he seems relaxed about the direction these youngsters are moving toward. I feel that, with all the changes made, he gets to start over with this team, only this time he's wiser and more experienced; why not be confident? The players are buying into his system because he knows exactly how it's supposed to look and operate and everybody feels better surrounded by certainty.

Trends

The NFL doesn't have time to wait on players to slowly develop anymore. It becomes a younger league every season and teams need the most out of every player activated on Sundays. Last year, Green Bay overcame a tidal wave of key injuries to still win the damn Super Bowl. A young team can become a legitimate contender in two years these days with good player development, solid preparation and a smart scheme. A well-informed, hard-working team can beat an athletic undisciplined one more often than not in today's league. In fact, this team reminds me a lot of the 2003 team—Marvin's first—with Woody Dalton doing his best Jon Kitna impression. That team was supposed to be awful, but they really hit their stride in mid-season and actually sniffed around for a playoff spot before flaming out in the last two games. That was the season that propelled the franchise back to legitimacy, and was the most fun I've ever had as a Bengal fan. This team is younger than that one was, has better prospects across the board and doesn't care about being noticed by the national media. This year could be fun too.

The other reason the Bengals are more competitive than expected is because they have shown that they can be an effective passing team. The league is all about passing right now and the teams who aren't up to snuff are struggling the most. Dalton hasn't been lighting up per se, but slinging it around in crazy comeback attempts has given everybody in stripes confidence and the opposition concern. So far, Benson and the run game have been good, but if the passing game falters and the Bengals are forced to rely almost exclusively on the run, panic will set in and the season will crumble. No worries though, I think the youngsters in the passing game will only get better and avoid planting any seeds of doubt for some time. That, in turn, will help the running game blossom even more, and an offensive utopia will be born. How's that for optimism?

So there you have it. The first quarter of 2011 has been a pleasant surprise that has fueled the Bengal fan base with a dose of much-needed hope and entertainment. While the stench of Mr. Brown is still heavy and gross, the other stuff is cool and we can just focus on that instead. There are sour-heads out there that will say a 2-2 record sucks against such blasé competition, but I ignore them too. The Bengals are supposed to be among the bad teams as well, but so far they aren't. If this thing can stick around the .500 pace, this season will be memorable indeed.

Mojokong—giving you the answers.

Mojokong Lives!

When I left, I walked a great distance into the wilderness. It was either hot or cold and rarely pleasant out there. I sometimes heard sounds behind me but then I quickened my pace and felt safe again. I came upon a dessert canyon and camped atop a cliff along the ridge. I allowed myself to relax there. No greenery could be seen anywhere, no real observable life at all. Just rocks and dust. Finally, I felt I had escaped. This new terrain was my future now. This brave new world. Then, behind me, the sound of foot on gravel became louder as the thing approached—it had tracked me! I had no more space to move, nowhere to flee; it was face it or jump. I stood up, turned to it and looked it in its eye. A feeling of resignation and something like defeat entered into my conscious. The Bengals had found me once again.

So here we are. Me in front of lettered keys, you staring into an LCD screen, and the Bengals milling about like old inhabitants of a refugee camp. A nomadic peoples, starved of resource and given just enough attention not to die. Their story goes on, even if it seems unchanging, and it is me, the chronicler, who must see it through to either my end or theirs.

When we last spoke, nothing felt good. The entire 2010 campaign could accurately be summed up in a single crisp profanity. A dead, bloating corpse of a franchise was poked with a stick and rolled lamely into a nearby pond. The result: a 4-12 record, the career suicide of the franchise quarterback, and a fan base that either frothed with venomous hatred or laughed with self-protected indifference. The whole thing stank and garbage day was eagerly anticipated.

That garbage truck came in the form of the NFL Draft when a breeze of fresh air wafted into the dank quarters of Paul Brown Stadium. Here was A.J. Green. A lanky, super-quick receiver cut from the cloth of Randy Moss. Like that little guy, Willow, once said, “This child is special!”, and it has already begun to show. After a quiet first game, Green exploded in Week 2, highlighted by an incredible touchdown catch in the north end zone of Mile-High Stadium. The boy is hard to guard and aimed to maim and has more potential than any receiver a striped helmet has ever known.

Then in round-two, a carrot-topped, baby-faced gunslinger named Andy Dalton appeared on the list of Bengal draftees and selected jersey number fourteen to wear on Sundays. There was a lot of reservation and concern that swirled around this Horned Frog and it wasn't until Week 3 of the preseason that I myself was sold. As most expected, he has not preformed like an All-Pro oak tree but rather like a budding sapling, often in an awkward phase of its development. But the kid's got moxie. My favorite moment of Dalton's career thus far was seeing him rally his troops on the sideline after a crucial dropped pass that could have put the Bengals in the driver seat toward a win in Week 2. There is a certain humble optimism about Andy Dalton that reminds me of Woody from Toy Story. In fact, rather than the phallic nickname of Red Rocket or whatever it is people are calling him, I choose a different phallic nickname of Woody. Woody Dalton, not bad.

Since 009 decided to turn in his gun and badge and lay around on the beaches of California for the rest of his life, Woody literally became the new sheriff in town. He started out with a great new receiver, a promising blue-chip prospect at tight end, and most importantly, a new play-caller. The mere mention of offensive coordinator Jay Gruden's predecessor, forms an angry storm cloud above my head, so we will resist saying his name and agree we understand who I mean. That guy was finally served his walking papers after far too many seasons of miserable job performance, and was replaced with a bright young coach who actually makes sense when calling plays (*gasp*). Gruden's system is rhythmic and adjustable and even has pockets of effective tricks mixed in. With such vast inexperience on his side of the ball, execution hasn't always been there for him (2 for 21 on third down in the last two games) and I don't always agree with every play called, but to see multiple instances of actual coaching sanity in games is a nice change of pace from the last guy.

This is the new regime on offense. It's not pretty yet—it's clay before the kiln—but these underdogs are fun to root for and easy to forgive.

Not everything has come up roses, however. While the players and coaches come and go the owner stays the same and as I have exhaustively detailed in previous ramblings, the man is bad for the world. To rail on him some more would be like digging the horse up from its grave and giving it a kick, so I will spare us all, but until he either begins to experiment with hallucinogenics, has his team forcibly removed from him, or mercifully dies, there will be no overarching success and will remain the blight of our fair city.

Sadly, even with the new positives cropping up within the organization, the bad press deservedly continues to roll in like the high tide. The local populace has collectively denounced the villainous owner and home games have been only two-thirds full, making the fan response a national story. Many Bengal fans echo the mantra that they support the team but not the owner and would rather do everything in their power not to give the Bengals any of their money. It's an unfortunate conundrum to like the players but despise the owner, yet that is the reality in Cincinnati. As a result, I expect only the Steelers game to be televised locally in 2011. C'est la vie.

Then, of course, are the arrests and suspensions—seemingly a staple in the diet of Bengal players. Already two Bengals have been issued suspensions—Bobbie Williams for 'roids and Cedric Benson for dispensing knuckle sandwiches in Texas—and another, Jerome Simpson, had six pounds of dope removed from his house. Six pounds. Pac Man Jones was nabbed in the offseason for getting rowdy at a Downtown nightclub, but his neck has yet to heal and he's too irrelevant for the league to suspend or even bother with at the moment.

Then there is Carson Palmer. Many might boo him if they saw him, but the guy put up with a mountain range of shit while in Cincinnati. Sure, he was paid obscene amounts of money to nod his head and say everything was great with the Bengals, but he was living a lie and bailed on $50 million out of principle. No other player was as inside as No. 9, and he got out before it consumed him entirely. He might not have been able to stomach a whole lifetime of apologizing for a broken franchise. Doing local car commercials, golfing with the same eight or nine lame white guys, donning polo shirts with little Bengal heads on them, voting conservatively and attending Moeller games with the other GCL schleps probably scared the hell out of him. I don't blame him. More than Carl Pickens' or Corey Dillon's tirades against the man in charge, Palmer's actions rather than his words against his former employer truly exemplifies how tragically fucked the Cincinnati Bengals are under the Mike Brown rule.

Alas, as always, all is not lost. It is still fun to root them on. The first two games proved such a thing.

Week 1 in Cleveland looked like it was going to be an easy win. Woody came out blazing in the first half and went up 13-0. Then, in the second quarter, the Bengals came back down to Earth and watched the Browns take the lead with two touchdowns. Dalton hurt a wrist or a hand or something—I'm still not positive—and backup Bruce Gradkowski had to trick play the Bengals to a win. Doc B, as Deon Sanders calls him, looked like a man without any knowledge of the offense he was instructed to run and my heart sank watching him squirrel around fearing the worst for young Dalton. A win is a win, but without Woody running the show, a long season was shaping up.

Week 2 came around, and No. 14 was back under center. The Bengals hadn't won in Denver since 1975, and neither team came into the game as all that favored over the other. It looked like it would be another dull game of Bengal punts and futility with Cincinnati down 17-3 in the third quarter. Then Dalton and Gruden said the hell with it, started airing it out and before you know it, the Stripes were down two with the ball late in the game. The situation was 4th&1 on the Denver 36 yard-line. Nugent had the leg and the thin air to drill a clutch field goal from that distance, but Marvin felt wily and wanted to prove to his team and to the world that they really could convert a short-yardage play after all. A slow-developing bootleg roll-out was called, the Bronco linebacker didn't bite on the play fake and Woody flailed the ball to the turf as he went down. Game over. Bengal fans walked away from their TV sets, disappointed but not disheartened. Woody had brought them back and made a game of it. Perhaps things would be okay after all.

Then in Week 3, boredom returned. In an ugly game of punts and penalties, the offense appeared hungover and disheveled. Nothing really worked that well, and the third down and short-yardage problems persisted. A very quality defensive effort was wasted with a complete stinker of a game from the entire offensive portion of the team. Grumblings could be heard about Woody, Gruden and even the old draft horse, Cedric Benson. San Francisco simply managed to not suck quite as bad as Cincinnati, and for that, they were awarded a win. When Woody had another chance to be a hero, he threw a rookie interception. Then when he had the same chance a second time, the ol' miscommunication reared its head and delivered another stinging interception, Flashbacks of Palmer missing TO with an errant pass in a crucial situation were conjured up and I became nauseous. The game changed the taste of the season for the worse like discovering a cigarette butt in your beer. It wasn't necessarily the loss, but rather how the loss unfolded that remained stuck in the crawl of Bengal fans everywhere.

And that's where we are here in 2011.

Things aren't as bad as they could be, nor are they as good. The team, its fans, its owner, and the season as a whole just sort of floats along. There will likely be more losses than wins in this inaugural season for the key new members of the offense, but it's the development that is worth watching and is what brought me back to my post. If winning is all that interests you, turn away now, you won't be satisfied, but if it's improved football you're interested to see...then stay tuned my friend.

Mojokong—chained to this thing.

The Long Walk Away

In a passage titled, The Literary Shipyard, Mark Twain describes his writing process as a gas-tank that over time runs dry. He wrote that he always had unfinished works lurking somewhere like half-built ships awaiting their completion. When the tank ran dry on whichever novel he was writing, he would dock it with the others and find renewed interest in something else. Sometimes he would get around to finishing a few, I'm sure you've read one or two of them, but not always.

While I have nowhere near the necessary skill nor bravado to ever dream of comparing myself to the masterful Mr. Twain, I share his sentiments on dry gas tanks and old boats. I too have stories yearning to be told, but they are victims of my Bengal distraction. It wouldn't be fair to starve them outright until their whole concepts are forgotten, and to keep that from happening, the Bengals are out.

It will be a difficult subject matter to ignore. Because it has dominated so much of my attention for so long, it will take time to clear away some of that mental space, but it will never go away entirely. They are a morbid curiosity, a train wreck I cannot turn away from. Every time they release any information, I get even crazier than the time before and allow my stress-levels to rise. They certainly know how to get my goat. Well, no more, my friends. Rather than continue to spew hot-blooded hatred across the page at their expense, I choose cold indifference and leave it blank instead. In my opinion, a reader can only take so much negativity before being turned off by the writer entirely, and my mama always taught me that if you don't have anything nice to say, don't say anything at all. Mama is always right.

That isn't to say you should stop reading about them though. You, the reader, are the only reason I ever carried on for all these years. If any credit is to be tossed around for the success of a blog, it is tossed to you. Besides, there are some terrific Bengal writers that need your readership to survive in their craft. If your interest level remains in the black and you're still excited for the local football team, then keep on brother, but as for me, my conscience won't at the moment allow me to take another step in that fruitless direction. There are bigger, and tastier fish to fry.

Still, this decision does come with a grain of regret. I promised you a thorough review of the season, where, upon completion, I would surmise a researched reason for the crappy year we all sat though during 2010. I like finishing these kinds of endeavors as painful as they might be, but this one will be docked as half-assed and abandoned. I'm sorry. Yet, as a feeble attempt to placate you, the loyal reader, here is a summarized conclusion on the matter:

The Bengals were doomed when they signed Terrell Owens. At the time, it looked like a splendid idea, but every tool has to be used the right way to achieve maximum efficiency, and TO was not a tool used well. As a result, every player on offense—including TO himself—didn't fully understand his role or function to the team and struggled to find a cohesive identity with each other. The season before, everything went well until Chris Henry broke his arm, and it was assumed offensive coordinator, Bob Bratkowski, would return to that style of play. TO could have taken the place of Henry and everything could have moved along swimmingly, but Bratkowski changed the entire scheme with the new superstar in training camp and everything went to shit.

Cincinnati trudged along this way, steadfast in their ineffective approach. Games were lost and the playoffs quickly floated out of reach. The offense was a sputtering nightmare which made the defense worse. Players started questioning their coaches to the media. A 10-game losing streak added a new and prominent scar to the already slashed and burned facade of the franchise.

Once the season finally ended, team ownership explained to the public that they liked their old-world business model and that they had no intentions to make any changes. The fan base responded with a frothing crescendo of spectacular fury toward Mike Brown, threatening to turn their backs altogether on him and his toy football team. Brown sacrificed his long-time scapegoat Bratkowski to the unruly mob as a gesture of his benevolence and the resistance did indeed quiet down some.

That summary demonstrates a flow-chart of blame for last season—as well as a few more jabs to the old man on my way out.

It's TO's fault for signing with the Bengals. Even though it was consistently reported that TO worked hard and was a good teammate to everyone present all season long, simply having him there negatively affected the way the rest of the offense was used.

Next to blame is, of course, Bratkowski for force-feeding the ball to TO and even Chad Ochocinco. I think it's safe to say that Brat thought a lot of TO and his abilities—he was drinking the kool-aid, as the kids say. Third-and-anything? Throw it up to TO. The result was 81 having a lot of yards and the team having a lot of losses. That particular offense was a promising one gone bad.

And, finally, the man who employs them all, Mike Brown. There's no need to further belabor the point that he sucks—feel free to page through any previous ramblings about him for that—but it can't hurt to point out once more that greed and personal villainy aside, his team has been the laughing stock of American professional sports since the day he took over. Everything under his umbrella of control—no matter how lucrative its potential—is likely to be wasted and mismanaged. Before any of us murmured the words “Super Bowl”, we should have first recalled who was in charge of getting us there. A poor assumption on our behalf, I guess.

So there you have it. A three-part interconnected answer. In all honesty, there was no reason to look for any others when the right one was staring right at us the whole time. The good news, I suppose, is that two of the three men blamed here are gone. The bad, of course, is that the most important of the three remains in his seat of power.

That is why, after 300 postings, I am hanging it up for awhile. It's all so bleak and ridiculous now; it's like sharing my opinions on support-group meetings for alcoholic clowns. There are many great and majestic interests in this world worth exploring and it's about time I get around to a few. Farewell, my striped brethren. May the tides turn soon.


Mojokong—it's been real.

The Other Brother

Jay Gruden: The new man with the new approach.

Had it been a public vote, he would have crushed his predecessor without the need for corny slogans like these. The mere fact that he operates with a different brain than the one we've seen in action for the past decade is all Gruden would have required to appease most of the fan base. Plus, because of his famous sibling, like a horror-film title, he is currently known as Chucky's Brother and that's just funny to me. Imagine a little murderous puppet patrolling the sideline and scaring the hell out of everyone—sounds like John Calipari actually.

Yet, Gruden isn't (presumably) murderous, or a puppet, or even all that little. He also isn't well known to most folks; only the association of his brother keeps him from being completely random. Still, he has paid his dues in the coaching ranks, including working with the his brother in Tampa, then winning championships in the Arena Football League, followed by his last stint in the United Football League with Odell Thurman's team, the Florida Tuskers. In a way, he exists professionally within the rich tradition of the Bill Walsh coaching tree, stemmed from the branch of Jon Gruden who in Green Bay worked with Mike Holmgren who in San Francisco worked with Bill Walsh. Jay Gruden has already used the words “west-coast offense” when describing his offensive philosophy, and that comes as music to my ears.

I was dubious of the hire at first. I hadn't heard of the man, and the whole thing conjured up those horrifying memories of the Dave Shula years. Like Shula and Gruden, Mike Brown is also the relative of a football great, and bringing in “legacy kids” such as these, made this most recent move more about Brown than about the team. But after researching his career and listening to other legitimate football minds compliment him and his style, I'm now convinced that Gruden would have been hired by some NFL team very soon had Brown not inked him into the coordinators booth first. His past indicates success everywhere he's been and it's nearly impossible not to label him as a bright, young, passionate guy who has surrounded himself with proven men along the way. This hire is more than just giving some obscure family member of a more noteworthy coach a chance at the big time. In short, he deserves this job for what he's done on his own accord and not because of his last name.

As for the job itself, it's a doozy. The more important veterans to this Bengals offense are mightily unhappy, and totally fed up with the losing and disappointment. In one corner of this dark dystopia you have the face-of-the-franchise quarterback remaining invisible somewhere in California and only sending out smoke signals that spell out trade demands and threats of retirement.

In another corner, exists two high-profile motormouth receivers that were key participants in the failed experiment of 2010. The bigger one is free to test the market and has not looked back in the Bengals' direction since being relieved of his contract after Week 17. He has given no indication that he intends to return to wearing stripes. The smaller one is shackled in Cincinnati for one more season and on some days voices his displeasure with the only franchise he's ever known and on other days sounds supportive of his team and its appointed leadership—an enigma wrapped in a conundrum if there ever was such a thing.

Then, in a third area of gray uncertainty sits a feature-back who has not hesitated to softly expound on the problems of the Bengals offense. He's been cooperative in his daily routine with the team, even though for the most part of 2010, he strongly disagreed with the approach taken by his former coordinator. Despite his dissent, he went about his business like a professional, recognizing his place within the organization's hierarchy and biding his time for his release. He is now officially a free agent but has been complimentary toward the developments of making Gruden the new offensive boss, and may be reconsidering fleeing the team that resuscitated his career three years ago.

Alas, even if all these aged footballers decide to collectively desert the team that has struggled for what seems like eons to gain a foothold among the league's elite, there remains a healthy stockpile of usable young talent to build a new machine from scratch. What is most encouraging to hear from and about the new OC, is that he is unafraid to use multiple personnel packages that gets all of his players involved. What doomed the previous play-caller was his insistence to force the ball to the proven veterans. From the sound of it, Gruden intends to hold each player accountable and throw them into the fire to see what they've got. There are far too many unique skill-sets on this team to ignore and keep dormant, and finally, the Bengals have employed a man who claims to see things that way as well.

While there are still plenty of organizational oddities that remain in place within the Cincinnati Bengals, hiring Jay Gruden seems like a sensible move that should generate grains of hope and excitement to the dwindling fan base which has endured spoonfuls of misery in the past year. Gruden shares an intensity with his brother, albeit a more subdued version, and hopefully also an infectious enthusiasm that forces his players to rethink the game of football. He has talked about committing to a scheme that emphasizes simplicity yet flexibility in its ability to use a plethora of players at its disposal. The words “west-coast offense” suggests a series of short passes mixed in with a heavy dose of runs that encourage sustained drives, clock usage, and field-position advantages inherent to its essence. No longer should Bengal fans need to murmur quick prayers that the ball in the air should land in the receiver's hands on the overused deep pass. Now it's up to the players to get the ball quickly and make plays on their own terms rather than wait around for any kind of twisted divine intervention to take place.

Of course, Gruden may not be the savior we are all so eager to label him as. He still must work within the backward confines of Paul Brown Stadium and listen to the man on top who remains convinced he has this running-a-football-team thing well in hand. More than perhaps any other opening in the league, this job opportunity comes with significant hurdles and traps and is not cut out for the weak-of-heart nor the go-it-alone commando type of coaches. Gruden must learn to tell his players no and his boss yes. Failure to do this will either result in a player-revolt or a jaded owner, each equally harmful to a coach's career. It's a tricky tight-rope walk to manage one's ego and aspirations to win without rocking the boat in the process. Mike Brown doesn't need Gruden to win. He just needs him to be good enough to convince the season-ticket holders that a healthy change of philosophy is well underway. That by hiring Gruden, Brown is really “doing something about it”.

You and I, however, need Gruden to win. We're beyond the smoke-screen of remaining competitive. While finishing in the middle of the pack once placated our wrath enough to still tune in and really care, the human condition always demands more and better, and our patience is waning. The right direction still remains a mystery to us who live in and around the Bengal universe. We thought we knew, but it was all a sham. It seems now that hiring Gruden might be a step in that direction, but, because we've been burned so many times before, we should remain steadfast in our skepticism. I wish him the best and am encouraged by his appointment, but I'll take the wait-and-see approach until I am fully convinced. God speed, Mr. Gruden. I pray you know what you're in for.


Mojokong—For tomorrow belongs to the people who prepare for it today.

Annual Reviews Part 5: Batman & Robin

The strange relationship between Terrell Owens and the Cincinnati Bengals began last year at the Super Bowl when Chad Ochocinco publicly campaigned for the hall-of-famer. They would be Batman and Robin, he promised, TO playing the role of Batman and Chad volunteering to become his sidekick.

Even though the team first signed Antonio Bryant only to find out he was damaged goods, TO did eventually end up in stripes and despite turning in a tremendous 14 games, he was perhaps the main ingredient to the offensive struggles throughout the season.

Someone within the Bengals became obsessed with getting the ball to TO. Many times, the ball was forced his way, typically just thrown up for grabs. The success rate for completions was low in this scenario, and more often, turned into immediate disaster. Not to say TO didn't make some great catches—the juggling act in the end-zone on a deep ball that was waived off from a holding penalty against Buffalo comes to mind—but there were multiple occasions where I felt he didn't make enough of an effort to either make the catch or break up the pass to prevent an interception. He may have giant, muscular arms, but it seemed they got awfully short if there were defenders running with him. He isn't one to stretch out and make the diving catch; the ball is either thrown into his arms or it falls incomplete—he will not go get it in the air.

Had he been targeted 30 less times or so on the year, Chad, Jermaine Gresham, and Jordan Shipley could have had more of an impact and force defenders to take on a much more balanced throwing attack—and he still would have ended with 42 catches and around 600 yards on the year. Would he have been satisfied with such low totals and kept his cool? Not if they were still losing, but ultimately, I think he would be satisfied with any role that wins games. He could have been an effective weapon with a unique skill-set if used in harmony with the other receivers, but instead he became the alpha dog of the pack and was overused, allowing defenses to hone in on the predictably of the play-calling and the telegraphed throws from Carson Palmer.

Eventually he blew up his knee and was mercifully removed from the equation. The moment that injury occurred, the balance returned and the offensive came to life.

Was it coincidence that the backups looked better than men dubbed Batman & Robin once they were put into the game? Not a chance. The younger the receiver is, the more he has to learn. Players like Gresham, Shipley, Jerome Simpson and Andre Caldwell have a lot more to worry about than nicknames, and I think that's what makes them better football players: attention to details that actually matter. Who consistently ran the wrong routes this season? Chad. Who dropped the most passes? TO. Who was the most reliable receiver by mid-season? Shipley. Who played with a mean streak and gave the most effort? Gresham. Who is your favorite receiver going into next season? Simpson. This little Q&A demonstrates what went wrong with the projected glory that Batman and Robin were so supposed to provide. A series of little problems culminated into one giant cluster-cuss by the end.

Now Chad is feeling a little ignored because of his crappy season and is making as much noise as he can through the social-media channels he adores. His value is at an all-time low and the success of the younger guys late last year demonstrates how replaceable he has become. In fact, Simpson looks like Chad Johnson in 2003. He moves like Chad, runs the same routes, and even has the ball-security issues after the catch. Why keep both when one is younger with limited mileage, and the other is no longer great but still commands good enough value in a trade? Seems like a no-brainer. Chad should go to New England and win Super Bowls in exchange for a couple of those first-day draft-picks the Patriots have stockpiled in this draft.


Alas, he will not be traded because that isn't the Bengal way. He will suit up next year with reportedly “Johnson” on his back and throw up his hands after he and Carson fail to communicate for the four-hundredth time in their careers. I like the guy, but he's frustrating. Getting the ball to him has become tediously difficult. When he does bring a pass down, I'm typically more relieved than pleased, and that hasn't always been the case with 85. I can't tell if his skills are eroding, or if the offense has grown out of hand for him to fully master. Either way, he doesn't frighten defenses like he used to and one begins to wonder if he ever will again.


Even if TO and Chad leave, the Bengals have one guy to lean on and build a passing game around: Gresham. This is a monster-man capable of Antonio Gates-like performances. There is no reason why he should not be a pro-bowler soon and end up as the best Bengal tight-end in the team's history once he hangs it up. The best part about Gresham is that he knows how big he is. He knows how to position himself just right to where smaller people cannot interfere with him making the catch. He knows he's big enough to mix it up with linebackers which he does often, and he knows where the first-down marker is and will battle to reach it. He's one of the nastier players the Bengals have drafted in a long time and fits in well with AFC North. In a run-first offense, the tight-end becomes a crucial player to convert third-and-mediums, which Gresham can do in a variety of ways. He runs the screen well, gets to the flats (except in New York, apparently), and uses his size in the end-zones. If safeties and linebackers begin doubling him, it would clear a lot of space for the shifty little Shipley to operate in.

Shipley is solid with excellent fundamentals. He runs crispy routes, is fearless running across the middle and has very good hands. The comparisons to Wes Welker may have derived from racial stereotypes in football, but it turned out that the two were used pretty dag-on similarly in their respective offenses. The smallish slot-guy targeted on third down is essentially a safety valve for the quarterback to pick up some key yards-after-catch and keep the drive going. Shipley can do exactly that, and could become Palmer's other go-to guy. Imagine Gresham and Shipley working as the inside receivers as they develop and improve. Third-down and red-zone conversions should become a forte to an offense with reliable receivers like that. Even if wide-outs, Simpson and Caldwell, don't consistently produce the way they did those last few games, the inside guys can easily make up the difference.

Out of those two outside players, Simpson seems like the more attractive one to keep for the long-term. Caldwell has had his moments—he boasts some game-winning plays within his highlight reel—but he hasn't had a season's worth of consistency. He seems like a hard worker and he still has some quality years in him, he certainly isn't a lost cause, but he needs to raise his game a few notches if he wants to be a starter in this league and force the Bengals to move Ochocinco.

As for Simpson, the man has enormous hands, is fast and lanky, showed some heart last year down the stretch and had ample time to learn how to be a professional. He has earned the increase in passes he is sure to see next year and he adds an element of entertainment for Bengals fans. After swearing him off for not playing—some questioning his existence altogether—so many of us are now intrigued to see the myth play well.

All of these young guys to throw to would excite most quarterbacks, especially since they're ripe to mold and call your own, but Carson Palmer is not excited. He appeared to enjoy himself more playing with this group of backups last year. The drama which he detests might finally drift away from PBS this offseason if the divas indeed find new homes next year, but that apparently isn't enough to tempt him into returning. Therefore, a new coordinator will call the plays for these young receivers in 2011 and a new quarterback will throw to them—to predict any future scheme is impossible at this point—but who ever these newcomers are, they will have a solid foundation of talent to use in the passing game. Without TO gobbling up the ball all the time, the young bucks should blossom in short time.


Mojokong—the sun is out.