Those were the days

[Reimersfan88]

Bengals' biggest bungles

'90s haven't been their finest hour

By Sean Keeler, Post staff reporter

''It's a franchise at the crossroads, a franchise in dire need of modernization. We'll soon see if (Mike) Brown intends to build a new superhighway or patch the existing two-lane road.''

- Sports Illustrated, Dec. 9, 1991

Let's see: Stadium. Roster. Running game. Dignity. Not necessarily in that order.

You name it, the Bengals are trying valiantly to rebuild it.

Construction is a recurring theme for the Queen City Kitties.

The team colors are pavement black and highway-cone orange.

There's good reason you've had a bag on your head since Joe Montana and the 49ers squashed Cincinnati's hopes in Super Bowl XXIII.

The Bengals have been to the playoffs only one more time.

And that was eight seasons ago.

Ah, magical, mystical 1990.

The Bengals topped a weak AFC Central with a 9-7 record.

They made the second round of the playoffs, losing, 20-10, to the Los Angeles Raiders.

You know the rest. Who-Dey Hangover.

What a long, strange, knee-wrecked, Klingler-picked, wicky, wacky, Wyched out, Shula-Who's-David-Shula, Dang-you-Big-Daddy awful decade it's been.

Since the Super Bowl season of 1988, the Bengals are 53-91 - worst in the AFC Central and tied for fourth-worst in the NFL with Tampa Bay.

''Some days, the (Super Bowl) feels like 10 years ago, and sometimes, it's 100,'' said Bengals general manager Mike Brown, who has overseen the club's darkest era.

''I wish it would go on forever, but nothing does. This is no exception to it. Things happen. In this case, oddly enough, a lot of things happened very quickly.''

Much to Brown's chagrin, those ''things'' piled up.

BAD DEFECTIONS

''The Bengals must upgrade their football brain trust, because some form of free agency looms and they are ill equipped to deal with it.''

- SI, 1991

And they weren't. The NFL's first cracks at a free market system, Plan B free agency, took chunks from the Bengal roster.

Under Plan B, teams could protect only 37 players on their roster. The rest would become unrestricted free agents.

At first, the Bengals thumbed their nose.

''Plan B is not anything we need,'' Brown said at the time. ''It's something we have to live with.''

Here's how the Bengals' Plan B free-agency scorecard looked in Dec. 1991: 3 gained, 15 lost.

In 1989, they ignored it entirely. In 1990, they signed two players via Plan B, running back Paul Palmer and wide receiver Mike Barber, and neither made the club. But that wasn't the worst of it that year.

The Bengals left veteran guard Max Montoya unprotected, making a handshake agreement that Montoya would agree to a slight raise and would not accept other offers while on Plan B. In what would become a series of bad forecasts to come, Bengals management figured the 34-year-old Montoya would stay with the team out of loyalty and community ties, no matter what he was offered.

Wrong.

The Los Angeles Raiders came forward with a hefty deal, and after so many years of being underpaid and feeling undercut by the notoriously tight Bengals, Montoya bolted. And nobody outside of the Brown family blamed him.

Linemate Bruce Reimers signed with Tampa Bay a few seasons later. Super Bowl reserves such as Solomon Wilcots and David Douglas were snapped up by other clubs.

In the '90s, the Bengals were fighting tanks and artillery (big bucks, bonuses, serious courting of core positions such as offensive and defensive line) with sabres and shields (Paul Brown, nifty city, safe family environment, stellar chili).

''At the college level, (teams) compete (for players) with food, the travel schedule, the facilities and so forth,'' said former Bengal wideout Tim McGee, now an NFL agent. ''And the Bengals' philosophy was that none of that equated to on-the-field performance.

''The bottom line was that guys were not getting that in Cincinnati, and you would take more notice somewhere else.''

Pundits have likened the Bengals' business practices from 1989-95 to a corner drugstore nestled on a block full of 24-hour chain supermarts. It took Ma and Pa's Who Dey Pharmacy some time to catch up.

''Free agency was a huge factor,'' said Bengals color analyst and former lineman Dave Lapham. ''I think the Bengals took a longer time to adjust than the other teams did. By making the decisions for Max and Bruce to go elsewhere, I think they hurt themselves; that was the beginning of it.''

But far from the end.

BAD DRAFTS

''With the (1992) draft promising to be among the richest in recent years, Cincinnati cannot afford to make mistakes - not after three consecutive subpar drafts and with nine first-stringers who will be older than 30 at the start of (1992).''

- SI

Want to kill a team? Keep piling on young talent with questionable upside - or questionable backgrounds. Again. And again.

In the draft that promised to be ''among the richest in years,'' whom did the Bengals take first?

David Klingler.

(You can stop hissing.)

Billed as the heir apparent to Boomer Esiason, his only legacy was the reason for someone to discover Jeff Blake.

Not that it was entirely Klingler's fault.

As the Bengals tried to patch free-agency defections and age on the offensive line with gum and kite wire, the pocket at The Jungle started to look like the single worst protected area south of the Canadian border.

Montoya and Reimers, you know about. Hall of Famer Anthony Munoz hung up his massive cleats and retired in 1992. What was left: center Bruce Kozerski; tackle Joe Walter, whose production was solid but never the same as '88 after a leg injury; and a cast of thousands.

The running game went spotty. The quarterbacks feared for their health.

Bengal QBs were sacked 34 times for 209 yards of losses in 1990, 33 for 205 in '91, 45 for 341 in '92, 53 for 289 in '93. Meanwhile, management drafted stiffs such as Lance Olberding (1992, Iowa, seventh round) and John Earle (1992, Western Illinois, 11th), following up with Tom Scott (East Carolina, sixth) in 1993 and Trent Pollard (Eastern Washington, fifth) and Jerry Reynolds (UNLV, sixth) in 1994.

The Bengals kept counting on offensive line coach Jim McNally to pull Pro Bowl bruisers out of his hat from underscouted, low-round draft picks.

McNally had worked wonders with Reimers (Iowa State, eighth round, 1984), Kozerski (Holy Cross, ninth round, 1984) and Walter (Texas Tech, seventh round, 1985), but his magic ran dry. From 1988-95, the Bengals drafted one lineman higher than the third round. That was Freddie Childress in 1989, who came out of Arkansas at 350 pounds and ate his way off the team before the end of training camp.

''I might be biased, but I believe it starts up front, no matter what level, whether you're talking pee wee or the NFL,'' said Lapham. ''On that offensive line in '88, Joe Walter was playing at as high a level as Anthony Munoz. They had an unbelievable tackle tandem that year.''

The other positions were hit-and-miss. For every Alfred Williams, there were four Donald Hollases. Of the Bengals' current roster, only James Francis (1990) Carl Pickens (1992), John Copeland (1993), Tony McGee (1993), Doug Pelfrey (1993), Darnay Scott, Corey Sawyer (1994), Kimo von Oelhoffen (1994), Ramondo Stallings (1994), Ki-Jana Carter (1995) and David Dunn (1995) remain from 1989-95 drafts.

BAD BREAKS

''(Ickey) Woods suffered a knee injury in the second game of the '89 season and hasn't been the same since coming back in the middle of ('90).''

- SI

Woods' knee was just one in a series of injuries that plucked the Bengals' pluck. Nose tackle Tim Krumrie's gruesome leg break in the Super Bowl? A portent of casualties to come.

Late cornerback Lewis Billups (bad knee, finger, police record) ran faster off the field and agonizingly slower on it with each season. Speedy wideout Eddie Brown was never the same after a neck injury. Eric Thomas. Munoz. Reimers. All hobbled before their time.

''Each and every one of those guys, I could go through something that happened,'' Brown said, shaking his head.

''I thought Eric Thomas may have had the best season for a corner we ever had,'' Brown said. ''And he tore an ACL in an offseason basketball game. Billups, you'd have to call in a psychiatrist to explain that one. I could go on and on, guy after guy. There was a little story for every one of them.''

If the Bengals didn't somehow break their feet, they were shooting them. Billups frequented the police blotter. Stanley Wilson revealed details of his pre-Super Bowl cocaine binge in a Penthouse magazine interview that tried to implicate teammates. A Seattle woman referred to as ''Victoria C.'' accused 20 Bengals of sexual assault.

Some potential moves became an embarrassment, such as Wyche trying to ban female reporters from the locker room. Some actual moves were almost as bad.

Take Dan Wilkinson, the draft bust who left behind several sandwich crumbs and few friends. The Dayton,

Ohio, native, the No. 1 overall pick in 1994, was a stud defensive tackle at Ohio State and seemed a perfect fit. Only ''Big Daddy'' ballooned up to 315-325 pounds.

Sports-radio callers harped on his diet. His hustle was questioned. He was accused of marijuana use and embroiled in a custody battle that painted him as an irresponsible young parent.

Wilkinson struck back in 1997, calling Cincinnatians ''prejudiced, upright and stiff.''

It proved the perfect ticket out of town - which was exactly what he wanted. Wilkinson was traded to the Washington Redskins in the offseason, and another piece of the rebuilding puzzle was purged.

BAD BUSINESS?

''Here's one way Brown can bring his front office into the modern age. Take about 5 percent of the $32.6 million in 1992 TV revenue and spend it on salaries for four college scouts, a pro personnel director and a director of football operations - a veteran football guy to oversee the whole thing.''

- SI

They're getting there.

The Bengals now have:

One pro/college personnel director, Jim Lippincott.

Three scouts, same as 1989.

No director of football operations, a position that oversees quality control.

Other than Lippincott and the scouts, individual player assessment - the lifeblood of building a competitive ballclub - is left to the coaching staff.

And the Brown family itself.

No-frills is in the team's charter.

It's the way Paul Brown, the team's founder, wanted it.

He was owner, president, general manager and grand poobah, with almost autonomous control.

He had the last say.

Few would question it.

His track record was nonpareil, having built both of Ohio's professional football teams from scratch (the Browns in the '50s and Bengals in the '60s) and was a legendary coach with the NFL, Ohio State and Massillon High School.

PB stuck to his guns, all the way until his death in 1991 at age 82. When Spinney Field was renovated in 1988, he scoffed.

''I don't know why we need all this carpeting,'' he said at the time. ''A new rug never helped anyone win a football game.''

In PB's mind, neither did extra scouts. Or a director of operations. Or a bonafide player's lounge.

Until its renovation, Spinney Field, the Bengals' practice facility, looked positively bush, a cinder and tin building that seemed to be almost hiding under a creaky viaduct.

Nearby industrial fumes brought groans and jokes from players.

The lockers looked to new players as if they'd been heisted from a local high school.

Near the end of his life, PB was a throwback, a charming reminder of the unfettered purity of the game, when winning was all that mattered.

The Bengals went to two Super Bowls without a TV in the players' lounge, or a scout who only dealt with the NFC West.

The rest was window dressing. Mind you, players really, really liked window dressing.

PB's autocracy is Mike's now. So is the heat.

''Things really seemed different after PB died,'' McGee said. ''Mike has tried to contribute, but it hasn't been the same.''

In his defense, Mike Brown has said he is running the club the way he feels his father would have.

It's anyone's guess what PB would have finally done with Wilkinson - or if he would have joined the bidding war for a free agent such as Reggie White, who became the anchor around which the Green Bay Packers rebuilt.

''The Bengals' problem? There's no football people running the organization,'' said one agent.

''Mike Brown isn't the football man his dad was. I don't think he is a football man. (Player personnel director) Pete (Brown) has a memory like an elephant, but I don't think he's a football guy.''

Mike Brown didn't sway detractors with his first selection as coach. After cleaning house of Wyche and several veterans in 1992, ''his'' guy turned out to be Dave Shula, son of Dolphins coach Don and the receivers coach under Wyche. Son of a legend choosing the son of a legend.

Only the second-generation stuff didn't fly as well with players, who were grateful to see Shula get the heave-ho after a 19-50 mark in 4 1/2 seasons.

Brown has kept the personnel side of the team just the way PB did - small, intimate and outdated.

The Bengals routinely pitted their three scouts, Lippincott, the coaching staff and immediate family against peers such as the San Francisco 49ers, who have personnel directors assigned exclusively to the AFC and NFC and another for evaluating college talent.

And the Kansas City Chiefs, operating in a market about the same size as Cincinnati, have 13 people, five of them scouts, on their player personnel staff.

''They're totally inadequate and understaffed in the scouting area,'' added another agent.

The Bengals front office is thin enough that assistant coaches do their own scouting, a tactic as fresh as leather helmets.

Assistant coaches are busy, especially during a five-month football season. Can you honestly scout well what you can't always see in person?

''I think they've made some positive moves in the last few years, had a good draft (in 1998) along with the people they brought in (as free agents),'' the agent continued, ''but the administrative stuff has still been lacking.''

Right along with the dignity.

Fans.

Optimism.

Oh, and victories.

''It's special when you can figure out how to do it better than the rest,'' Mike Brown said. ''Right now, we're just trying to get it figured out better than most.''

I think we're getting close to being able to read this and laugh.

[BengalPappaw]

READ and LAUGH

I took two toilet breaks, one lunch break and nice nap -- trying to read this

Thanks for the flash back -- I really thought those were nightmares that I had during my naps.

And, I thought Joisey had time on his hands -- I'm retired and don't have time to build one of these masterpieces.

THANKS -- I think!

[BengalszoneBilly]

Wow! I never thought I'd see my complete nightmare in print.

[HairOnFire]

For a moment I thought I was back in 1995....so much so that I called my old girlfriend and asked her if I could do her again.

[BengalszoneBilly]

For a moment I thought I was back in 1995....so much so that I called my old girlfriend and asked her if I could do her again.

...and her reply? Don't leave us hangin' here!

[HairOnFire]

For a moment I thought I was back in 1995....so much so that I called my old girlfriend and asked her if I could do her again.

...and her reply? Don't leave us hangin' here!

She said YES!!!!!!!

Then again, my girlfriend from 1995 was actually my wife...and still is...so I knew I had that going for me.

[DesperateDerelict]

She said YES!!!!!!!

Then again, my girlfriend from 1995 was actually my wife...and still is...so I knew I had that going for me.

Ha - ha - ha. Having a conjugal request granted can be a helluva lot tougher than getting lucky when dating!

[schweinhart]

Hair's exploits aside, it's good to read a time capsule about how the Bengals spun out of control, now that all the damage appears to have been finally overcome.

Time to laugh, Reimers Fan? It's coming. :player: