The old idiom is no more true than it is in Cincinnati.
I remember the Blockbuster Video next to the Hallmark store, which was in the same strip mall as Kmart in the town where I grew up.
I remember when the Cincinnati Bengals, having already locked up a division title and a home playoff game after the 2009 season, allowed the New York Jets to beat them in Week 17. The Bengals sat all their starters, including quarterback Carson Palmer. By doing so, the Jets were able to squeeze into the playoffs as a wild-card team. They beat the Bengals 24-14 in Paul Brown Stadium the following week.
I remember being able to ride my bike throughout my neighborhood in the summer. I could play with friends who didn’t live right next door, and my parents had no real way of knowing where I was or what I was doing. When the sun started to get low in the west, or when I started to get hungry or bored, I’d go home. If I allowed my kids to do the same now, I’d likely die of some sort of anxiety attack or go to jail.
I remember the 2016 AFC wild-card game between the Steelers and the Bengals in Cincinnati. The Bengals looked like they were going to win their first playoff game in more than 20 years, but after a Jeremy Hill fumble and a handful of mental errors and meltdowns, the Steelers moved on to the next round instead.
I remember when my parents bought a Gateway desktop for what felt like a million dollars. We had dial-up internet, and it only worked if nobody was on the phone. I remember, as a middle schooler at the time, thinking the internet was stupid and not worth using. I’ll stick with my encyclopedias, thank you very much.
I remember when the Bengals hosted the Steelers in the final week of the 2006 season. A win would have put them in the playoffs, and a loss would knock them out. With a chance to win the game in the final seconds, Shayne Graham’s 39-yard field goal attempt sailed wide right. The Steelers won the game with a touchdown pass on the first play of overtime. I was home on leave and at the stadium for that one.
I remember going to the mall, walking into FYE, and spending a ton of time looking through CDs to listen to while I was driving my old, beat-up Nissan Sentra with the aftermarket stereo.
I remember when the Bengals looked like they were going to save their season and beat the Ravens on the road, evening up their record at .500, only to literally fumble the opportunity away.
I cannot begin to describe how things have changed in my 41 years, both economically and socially, and in pretty much every way imaginable. My wife and I went to dinner the other night at the Cracker Barrel where I worked around 2000, and while Cracker Barrel will never change, the area around it is completely different. The businesses surrounding it that I spent time in are gone. The buildings I grew up around are either empty or dilapidated. Everything has changed.
The Bengals made us think they’d changed. They gave us new uniforms. They gave us a Ring of Honor. They gave us more fan interaction. They gave us playoff wins and a Super Bowl run.
In 2005, they gave us a playoff team. We thought they’d changed.
In 2009, they gave us a playoff team. We thought they’d changed.
In 2011, 2012, 2013, 2014, and 2015, they gave us playoff teams. We thought they’d changed.
What they did, though, was find new and creative ways to shoot themselves in the foot. They reduced Carson Palmer, who was Michelangelo’s David when it came to typical pocket passers, to a ghost of his former self. He didn’t get a real opportunity to win a playoff game until he was traded — a trade he forced.
They overachieved with Andy Dalton for years, and while some of those playoff losses were legit, the Bengals truly had a real shot to do something special, like in 2015. They just couldn’t get out of their own way.
Now they’re in the Joe Burrow era. He’s arguably the most talented quarterback of the three and has done more with less than the other two.
And what are we seeing?
We’re seeing his abilities squandered. He has literally done everything he can to help the Bengals win, only to see his work undone by poor defense, inept coaching, and an unwillingness to spend money the way it needs to be spent or make the hard decisions other teams seem to make so easily.
Why didn’t they trade A.J. Green for an extra pick, opting to lose him for nothing after his contract was up with the Bengals? They keep telling us they believe in this team despite the way the season started, yet they only traded for a running back who was likely to be released soon. They let Jessie Bates and D.J. Reader leave and failed to effectively replace them. They allowed Carson Palmer’s offensive line to deteriorate around him. They let Andrew Whitworth leave and tried to replace him with Cedric Ogbuehi. They let several of Andy Dalton’s weapons leave. They let Willie Anderson retire as a Raven.
See what I’m trying to say? Those are just the examples off the top of my head.
What I’m saying is things have changed. They’ve changed everywhere.
Except for the Bengals.
Change is the lubrication that stops the engine from seizing up. It’s necessary for everything to change and grow so it doesn’t stagnate and become stale. The Bengals, while giving us the illusion that things have changed, seem to be the same as they’ve always been, making decisions the same way they always have.
Imagine trying to do research on something in 2024 and breaking out the old encyclopedia set you bought in the mid-’90s. The idea is preposterous, even if it was magically updated to hold all the information left out between then and now.
That’s what it seems like the Bengals are doing. They have the tools needed, but instead of turning on their computers, they’re getting out their books. It’s prettier on the outside, but that’s about it.
I hope I’m wrong.
Tell me what you think about your situation
Complication, aggravation
Is getting to you, yeah
If Chicken Little tells you that the sky is falling
Even if it wasn’t, would you still come crawling
Back again? I bet you would my friend
Again, and again, and again, and again, and again
