By Houdino
Having Snap, Crackle, and Pop go off in my head was surprisingly comforting.
Something in my head finally snapped. I’m not kidding. I heard a snap. The sound startled a local sports reporter (who, by the way, begged to remain anonymous) standing right next to me.
Not sure how it happened, but when it did I saw the Bengals in a whole new light. I also saw a humongous lump of head cheese swallow whole a naked mole rat, but let’s stick to the Bengals for now.
It struck me suddenly – Snap! – as the Adam Pacman Jones news conference unfolded.
At that moment, the essence of the Bengals brand – the gist of who they are and what they stand for – appeared before me like a glistening field of butterflies. Crackle! No, make that a bedazzled Michael Flatley dancing deliriously in a glistening field of butterflies. Pop!
I wept a gallon of unicorn tears. And then rehydrated with a jug of orange Kool-Aid. After years of fighting the man, I became a convert in seconds. And now, I’m urging you to save yourselves much future misery by having tall, cold one with me. Let me explain.
For years, we’ve bitched and moaned to Bengals executives that they were creating a public relations nightmare by taking on the likes of Odell Thurman, Cedric Benson, Tank Johnson, Matt Jones, Chris Henry, and now Pacman. We actually believed our outcry would force the team to change their wayward ways.
"Kool-Aid, anyone?"
But what I failed to realize until that last pop was… They. Don’t. Care what we think.
Admirably, the Bengals have painstakingly carved out their own unique brand position in the world of professional football. They know exactly who they want to be. And they be it. They are the “low risk, high reward” brand. The “buy low, sell high” brand. The “three strikes and you’re in” brand.
Every once-great or -promising talent in the NFL now knows he can be reborn in Cincinnati. We may not get the best players first, but we get them last…on clearance.
Signing the likes of Pacman is what we do. And no amount of bitching will change it. Why would it? Have the years of constant nagging from your wife changed who you are? I didn’t think so.
The strangest realization? It just might work. If even half of our former cons pan out, the Bengals win. If they don’t, what have we really lost? Our reputation? You can’t lose what you don’t care about. Nope, all we lose is a league-minimum player. Nothing more, nothing less. It’s who we are.
So what the hell. Care for some orange Kool-Aid?
{ 1 comment… read it below or add one }
Well done, Houdino — you put the
“iph” in Epiphany. And you just might be right, you’re bloody well right, you got the bloody right to say….