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Cincinnati Bengals: Revival on the Riverfront
Yet we would be remiss if stating that the victory was the basis for our bliss. It wasn’t just that the Who-Deys won, it was how. Down eleven to the defending Super Bowl champs, against a defense that had been impenetrable for three quarters, led by a quarterback surrounded by a motley crew comprised of castoffs, has-beens, and never-wases. The main inquiry coming into the season was the uncertainty of Carson Palmer’s health. After two comebacks in two weeks for a team that hadn’t comeback since, well, ever, that apprehension seems to be alleviated.
The suggestion that Cincinnati would find themselves in such a situation a mere ninety minutes before the winning drive would have been grounds for calls of insanity. After the 1 st quarter, the Bengals managed all of one yard on offense. One. After Pittsburgh converted their second field goal of the day to bring the score to 13-0 (which easily could have been 21-0), the game, and perhaps the season, seemed lost. Conversations with friends during the 1 st half ranged from wondering if Palmer’s arm had been replaced with Gary Busey’s from Rookie of the Year, and comparing the then-beatdown to a certain infamous scene in Deliverance. Even for Bengals fans, the outlook was bleak.
While he had numeral “22” on his back instead of a cape, one could be excused for confusing Jonathan Joseph with Superman. For in housing an errant Roethlisberger throw, JJ single-handedly rejuvenated a lifeless Paul Brown Stadium crowd. Pittsburgh hollers and cheers, which were quite boisterous and distinct up until that point, suddenly became nullified under the awakening of the Jungle. Even with the score 20-9 heading into the 4 th quarter, victory didn’t seem as distant on the horizon as previously believed. A 6 play, 85 yard in-your-face drive capped by a Cedric Benson scamper into the endzone, cutting the deficit to 20-15, amplified this aspiration. After the Steeler O was suddenly halted by Keith Rivers and company, the Bengals found themselves with 5 minutes on the board and a shot at conquest.
Bengal fans should have known better. Wasn’t it just a mere 14 days ago that our collective souls were stomped on by Brandon Stokley? In spite of that dagger that was oh so fresh in our minds, the orange and black faithful stood by their team, partly to drive the offense to the endzone, and to some extent, to show their gratitude for fighting the mighty Steelers back to this juncture. And for once, we were finally rewarded. My meager words don’t do the final minutes justice. Just know that the middle names of any babies born in the 513 area code on Sunday possibly have middle names of Caldwell, Leonard, or Palmer. As the scoreboard flashed 23-20 with 00:00 on the clock, fantasy became reality: the Cincinnati Bengals, 4-11-1 just a campaign before, had knocked out the World Champion Pittsburgh Steelers.
Before we go ahead and book flights to Miami, it might be proper to pump the breaks ever so slightly. Pittsburgh left an inordinate amount of opportunities on the field (settling for FGs instead of shooting for six, dropped TD passes, and a missed FG). From afar, one has to wonder if the Bengals really won, or if the Steelers had blown it. Troy Polamalu, arguably the team’s most valuable asset, was on the sidelines. From the Bengals perspective, they’ve yet to put together a complete game, and the wide receiving corps doesn’t look quite right. And if Cincinnati drops this week’s game against the lowly Browns, maybe all of this is for naught.
This team could be 3-0. It also could easily be 0-3. Bill Parcells once said you’re only as good as your record. In the Bengals’ case, that would be 2-1. More importantly, even if it was just for one day, the Bengals finally delivered a sentiment that hasn’t been felt in these parts since 2005.
Hope.
By
Joel Beall |
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