Five Fast Facts About The Bengals:
- Now that Kevin Federline's career has ceased to be even a publicly acknowledged farce and thus is rightly suppressed into the canon of embarassing cultural ephemera that can only be discussed between sighs in hushed tones, no. 1 fan Carson Palmer has forsworn music altogether. At least once he gets tired of the new Linkin Park album.
-TJ Houshmazood should still be your first overall fantasy pick, especially if your name is Sarah Schorno.
-With the Steelers' hiring of Mike Tomlin in the offseason, Marvin Lewis risks no longer being the most successful black coach in the AFC North. But at least he won't be the fat one.
-Rudi Johnson's entire given name is Burudi, which doesn't sound anything like Burundi. At all. A good thing, as Burundi is filled with giant crocodiles that can fuck up tigers.
-Because he's a Bengal, and partially for show, Chris Henry always remembers to finish off pummeling 16 year olds with a Tiger Uppercut.
Projected 2007 Record: 13-3, 2nd seed in the AFC, first round bye
Actual 2007 Record: 8-8, 3rd in AFC North, miss playoffs
Having the Bengals be the face of unruly behavior and lawlessness is, though undeniably always a treat to this Steelers fan, growing ever more tiresome. What's worse: all the jokes have been mined. And far from just old, it's somewhat unfair. As Cincy fans are quick to point out, such behavior is hardly exclusive to them. But most within the media or the blogosphere would have you believe a league without the Bengals would be as such:
I mean, it didn't look like any of them were even thinking about raping that girl. Certainly not the guy who looked kind of skeeved out about getting touched by a - hyuh - girl.
My suggestion to you, Bengals, is to return to being abjectly terrible and never look back. Don't underachieve. Don't even achieve at all. You were so adroit at being pathetic for so long that I think the throes of withdrawal that came with modest success caused a dark night of the soul and a drunk driving of the soul and an aggravated assault of the soul. The soul's got a long rap sheet, is what I'm saying.
The beauty of my plan is that you don't even have to give up Chad Johnson or Houshmandzadeh. It can be just like old times, with that familiar Carl Pickens/Darnay Scott tandem. Sure, Carson may have to throw a few more frustrating picks to resemble Jeff Blake, but I think he'll find that it will come naturally after not too long.
I'll understand if you don't agree. Those plaintive, longing Ryan Parker songs make agonizing losses fucking beautiful, man.
image courtesy of fark.com