All over but the jeering

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Monday, November 30, 1998

Jason Bergman and Ed Pokorski see nothing to cheer for. (Steven M. Herppich photo) | ZOOM |

"Mike Brown sucks," they decided. Several thousand of them, exercising their right to free speech. The ushers had removed most of their equally gracious banners, but ushers could do nothing about tongues. They could only let them wag. Mike Brown sucks.

I don't know what Mike Brown does. Or doesn't do. A few weeks ago, apparently in reference to his football team, Brown said, "the ox cart is still in the ditch," or some such. Maybe he's a farmer. The Bengals emperor is currently lording over a full-blown disaster, a real Hindenburg job. The Bengals have lost seven in a row, 10 of 12. They are bearing down on 2-14. Monica is having a better year.

In a candid moment Sunday, cornerback Ashley Ambrose said, "To be honest with you, I have counted the days. Not to getting away from this organization, but to be out of this season."

"Enjoy your drive home," the radio man Pete Arbogast had said, with 7:48 left to play, Cincinnati clinging desperately to a 17-point deficit, hoping not to cut it to 10. Drive safe, suckers. Look out for the ox cart.

It is fair to say you've been had. Officially. Ticketholders, taxpayers, fans. Had. Brown has taken up residence in your portfolio and has shown no inclination to give you a fair return on your money. He's smoking your last $100 bill.

Respectfully wrong

Sunday was a real beaut. In the first quarter, visiting Jacksonville had lost all-world tackle Tony Boselli and Fred Taylor, their only active running back with more than 140 yards all year. The Jaguars running game was less than a rumor.

Hey, kids, that sounds like a great time to load up on defensive backs and make struggling Mark Brunell pass. "We didn't do much changing up at all," Ambrose said. Brunell appreciated that. He threw four TD passes while the Bengals respected the Jags non-running game.

Then, with 12 minutes left in the first half, Bruce Coslet replaced the Ghost of Quarterback Present, Paul Justin, with the Ghost of Quarterback Past, Neil O'Donnell. Someone asked Justin about the interception that got him yanked. "It was so quick, I don't remember what I did in the game," Justin said.

Thanks, chief. We'll be seeing you. Enjoy your drive home. Look out for the ox cart.

In the third quarter, when the Bengals got too close for comfort and trailed just 20-17, their defense restored order, by allowing TD drives of 80 and 83 yards.

By then, the sign police were busy tearing down the truth banners that hung like beacons from the stands. Officially, the signs were removed because they blocked the view of some fans, though those people probably considered such blindness an act of mercy.

As bad as it gets

Unofficially, nobody likes to read that he or she, you know, sucks. The good news is, the Bengals are still three games ahead of the St. Louis Rams in the Worst Of The 90s race, with 20 games to play. The bad news is, they are one bad Scott Mitchell pass from 1-11, and one hellacious O'Donnell Hail Mary from 0-12.

Given the talent on hand, this year is as bad as any Dave Shula authored.

We must have done something terribly wrong to deserve this. A whole decade of the-song-remains-the-same. I feel like I'm watching the movie Groundhog Day, directed by Stephen King.

Other places, they get locusts.

After Taps blew on 17-34, Bengals players jogged through the tunnel and under a bedsheet bearing the words "Thanks Mike." Possibly, the message was sarcastic.

A fan above the bedsheet wailed to no one and everyone, "Deliver us! Deliver us from this!"

Amen, bro. Enjoy your drive home. Look out for the ox cart.

Enquirer columnist Paul Daugherty welcomes your comments at 768-8454.

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