I am, along with most of Cincinnati, a huge Bengals fan. I grew up sitting in the nose-bleed section of Cinergy Field learning the Icky-Shuffle. And while I would not consider myself an expert on the game of football, throughout the years I have impressed a guy or two with my football knowledge. I, however, am not impressed with the football knowledge of those who sit around me at Paul Brown Stadium these days, or anywhere else I watch the game for that matter.
I understand that 1-4 is not the record of champions. I know that our
offensive line has let Carson take more hits in single games than they
did throughout the entire '05 season. I watched our defense let the Browns rack up way too many points. I know that 1-4 is not what Cincinnati wants to see out of our football team. But more than that, I know that 1-4 is not what any player or coach in the Bengals franchise wants.
No player works on weights and drills, literally tearing their body apart week by week, to lose a game. Landon Johnson does not sit by his locker on Sunday mornings and hope to miss another tackle. Willy Anderson does not get treatment after every practice because he stepped aside to let Carson get sacked. Marvin does not sit in his office after hours thinking of cute sayings which we, as fans, can put on
t-shirts to make ourselves feel better after a loss. Instead, week after week, day after day, these men prepare for a win. Now I know that they are extremely lucky. They are living a dream that few will ever have a chance to realize. I know that with this kind of “power” comes great responsibility. But I also know that I have no idea what it is like. Aside from the fact that I am a girl who never played
a real game of football, I don’t know what it is like to be repeatedly slammed onto my shoulder by a man weighing well over two hundred pounds.
At the same time, I am pretty sure that the loud-mouth across the aisle
and up two rows doesn’t know either. Even if he played college football, which I can guarantee by his physique that he didn’t, he still doesn’t know NFL football. There is a huge difference between college and NFL; we know because we have watched many a players flounder in the transition. And not only did he not play NFL football, but he has never coached it.
That is one fact that despite all of my frustration, I continually remind myself during games. I do not know the challenge of pulling down a ball, one handed, with a defender waiting to cut out my legs and make me lose control. I also do not know the challenge of calling plays that can effectively move the ball down the field at a rate which fits with the score and time left. What I don’t know is how a fan could think that screaming, “Hey Deltha, just because you got beat doesn’t mean youhave to fake hurt,” is effective. First, when a player is laying in the end zone, he can’t hear you while you’re sitting in your comfy fifth row seat on the fifty. Secondly, no player wants to be hurt. Injuries mean time away from the game.
I love the Bengals. I truly do. I take part in every activity that can
bring me closer to the game. I will cheer for them even if they become the ’05 Texans. But I will grow weary of the fans. Because those players, week after week, put their bodies on the line to win a game. They gather together, as a team, to represent our city each Sunday. Shouldn’t we cheer them on through all the struggles this year has shown? Or will the fans prove the cynics right by merely jumping off
the bandwagon?
