I want to know who it was.
Which one of you Bengals fans made a deal with some eldritch power far beyond your comprehension? Because now, thanks to your inability to read the fine print, we’re all stuck in football purgatory—maybe even hell, depending on how long you’ve been here.
The Bengals were embarrassed again in Week 5. The 37–24 final score was deceptively close; the game itself never was. The Lions practically begged the Bengals to stay in it, but Cincinnati refused to oblige.
Defensively, it actually wasn’t a complete disaster. They’re playing with both hands tied behind their backs because the offense is horrific. Jake Browning threw three interceptions—each one somehow worse than the one before—and by the time the Bengals finally found the end zone, it was too little, too late.
Zac Taylor’s seat has to be burning hotter than the surface of the sun. I say that knowing full well Marvin Lewis lasted in Cincinnati for roughly five centuries, but Taylor has been outcoached in every game this season. The only thing that ever saved him was Joe Burrow.
I titled this “The Definition of Insanity” for a reason.
You know the saying: Doing the same thing over and over again while expecting a different result. Throwing the body snatcher wearing Browning’s face out there three straight weeks, hoping the offense will suddenly function—that’s insanity.
But so is this: shopping at the last K-Mart for offensive linemen year after year, and then acting surprised when your quarterback—who already struggles to stay healthy—gets battered into oblivion again. That’s insanity, too.
This season was doomed before it started. Once again, the Bengals failed to protect their most valuable asset, and now they’re paying the price.
Play stupid games, win stupid prizes.
And about those paper bags in the stands?
Every fan could wear one, scribbling the ugliest things imaginable about Mike Brown and his family, and it still wouldn’t change a thing. The only thing that will?
Seats that look like this.
What happens next probably depends on how much optimism you have left.
If you think a quarterback change could somehow stabilize things long enough for Joe Burrow to return around the holidays, then maybe the move is to trade a late-round pick for a stopgap. Russell Wilson, Jameis Winston—someone, anyone—who can keep the offense on life support until the franchise quarterback is back.
But if you’re a realist (which is really just a polite way of saying “Bengals fan”), then it’s time to start thinking about moving pieces and salvaging something from these last two wasted seasons.
Start with Trey Hendrickson. He’s rotting on a team going nowhere fast. Do him a favor—send him to a contender and get a draft pick while you can.
Then ask yourself: who are the non-rookies this team is actually building around?
Burrow, Chase, Higgins—sure. But beyond that?
Is Amarius Mims showing enough to be part of that core? Orlando Brown Jr. definitely isn’t.
On defense, Dax Hill has flashed, but is anyone really saying, “That’s our guy, that’s who we build around”? No.
Duke Tobin said before all this that the front office didn’t want to “spend more money for the same team.” Congratulations, Duke. You spent more money for a worse one.
Deep breath…
If you’ve been around a while, none of this is new.
If you hopped aboard during the postseason runs in ‘21 or ‘22 (and there’s nothing wrong with that) and you’re wondering “Why can’t this team get their shit together?”—all I can tell you is this: get numb so you don’t lose your mind, or get gone. Don’t let the Bengals affect your health.
And with that… happy birthday to my dad, who gifted me this Bengals fandom back in 1983.
I originally thought to say, “you should have warned me,” but in ‘83—how could he have known?
Maybe I need to warn my kids.
One’s a devil, one keeps drivin’ me insane
At time, I wonder if they ain’t both the same
But one’s a liar that helps to hide me from my pain
And one’s the long gone bitter truth
That’s the difference between whiskey and you
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