“Cincinnati is probably going to go into New York and lay down for the Jets,” Steelers linebacker LaMarr Woodley yesterday told a Pittsburgh newspaper.

“The Bengals don’t want to see Pittsburgh in there … they know if we get into the playoffs we’re a dangerous team.”

Because Woodley’s comments have created a firestorm in Cincinnati and around the NFL, we wanted to take a deeper look at the linebacker’s motivations, so teams of college interns were deployed to research the player and his life.

Shockingly, it was learned Woodley suffers from Neurogastrodelusionalphrenia, an often deadly disease brought on by a rare, mutant artery connecting the colon and brain. "LaMarr has the worst case of Neurogastrodelusionalphrenia I've seen since Al Frankin," says Woodley's doctor.

“Basically, in layman’s terms, we call it Sh_t-For-Brains Disease but don’t quote me on that,” said Dr. Donald Donnelstool, a renowned Pittsburgh expert on the city’s rising cases of Neurogastrodelusionalphrenia.

Donnelstool’s other Neurogastrodelusionalphrenia patients include Hines Ward, Tiger Woods and NFL Network’s Rich Eisen.

It’s estimated only 0.0000005 percent worldwide are born with Neurogastrodelusionalphrenia, but strangely nearly 20 percent of people spelling their names LaMarr have it, as well as 50 percent of those living in and around the city of Pittsburgh.

“Yeah, LaMarr’s Neurogastrodelusionalphrenia used to pop up a lot as a kid,” said Woodley’s mother, Bertha Woodley.

“He’d say the local pee wee football champions were afraid to play his team. The champions were good, always went 10-0. LaMarr’s team was mostly 0-10 and never scored any points. And they lost to girls, too,” she added.

An eight-year-old Woodley once said of his Fighing Ducklings pee wee team, “Everybody knows we’re dangerous, once we get into the playoffs no matter how we played this season.” That year the Fighting Ducklings were 0-10, even losing 45-0 to the team’s little cheerleaders.

Woodley’s girlfriend MazzyMay Murdock has seen the player’s condition worsen over the years. “It goes way beyond LaMarr thinking other people are afraid of him and the Steelers,” Murdock admitted. “He’s now crapping his pants in public. It’s so bad that I’m smoking again.”

While to date no Hollywood stars are representing the Neurogastrodelusionalphrenia cause, reportedly The Jackson 4 are under consideration.

Oddbounces.com News Service - What can we say about the Chiefs run defense that hasn’t already been said. Not much, but I’ll try. Let’s go with—pitifully porous, puny, and a real no-run-defense poopy pants.

In fact, I’m not sure it’s required by law we use the actual word defense in describing KC’s ‘opposite to their offensive’ side of the ball. Last week they were just ‘Slight Interrupters’ to Cleveland’s 834 yards rushing. So, on the ‘Slight Interrupter’s’ side of the ball, Kansas City looks to get another Perkin’s Pancaking today. Right? I mean, the Bengals are the League’s 6th-best move-the-ball-by-the-feet team. Right?

So, if Cleveland amassed 1,012 yards in one game, by the feet, the run-happy Bengals should get 2,000 yards today. Right?

Not so fast.

Let’s call in master counter-intelligence, counter-terrorist expert Jack Bauer.

So, sit down. And shut up. NOW!

The Oddbounces Global Network Of Contacts And Resources Division (OGNOCAR; pronounced OgNoCar) tracked down the all-time world savior, and  high school graduate. “Look, even my catatonic ex-girlfriend Audrey knows the Chiefs took an East German-designed plastic explosive with a built-in Murafield-timer hit on its defense last week,” Bauer said from a Chinese prison cell.

“Before going dark, I instructed Bengals OC Bratkowski to have Palmer throw a parameter around that Bengals passing game, and be ready to slap silly those KC DBs like a Saudi suicide bomber.

“And the Bengals better be ready to launch it like a Nigerian-constructed dirty bomb. NOW!” added Bauer.

So there you have it, advice from the greatest counter-intelligence strategist of all time. The Bengals can’t depend on back-to-back, skirt-wearing performances by the Chiefs. If they practiced 40 hours this week, 38 were spent on prepping for the Cincinnati running game.

Don’t get us wrong.

In no way are Jack and I suggesting abandoning the run game. All we’re saying is (Brat listen up … NOW!), don’t try running the ball 110 percent of the time in the first half if the Chiefs are stopping it.

And don’t go into the locker room down or up 7-3 because you ran every play. Listen to Jack … have Palmer throw a parameter around the passing game, and be ready to slap silly those KC DBs like a Saudi suicide bomber.

I say the Bengals go all jiggy on ‘em – 31-10.

Oddbounces.com correspondent Kim Kardashian today sat down with the alter ego of Bengals QB Carson Palmer to discuss life, faith, marriage, fatherhood and the Trent Dilferizing of his career. But we’ll skip the life, faith, marriage and fatherhood parts.

Kardashian:  First, I want to thank you for talking with Oddbounces.com.

Palmer:  Didn’t you get fat?

Kardashian:  No. Just a big booty.

Palmer:  Get dumped by Romo?

Kardashian:  Someday.

Palmer:  Hobson, who are these people!

Kardashian:  I mean, you're Carson Palmer ... how do you feel about being Trent Dilferized? ... essentially being reduced to a golden-armed, Heisman Trophy-winning version of the most talentless, game-managing QB of all time?

Palmer:  I’m Carson’s alter ego, right, so I have to be honest?

Kardashian:  Does Marvin say 'and that's a good thing' a lot?

Palmer:  Okay, it sucks.

Kardashian:  Can you expand upon that?

Palmer:  It sucks a lot. And blows.

Kardashian:  More?

Palmer:  Yeah, okay ... I go into those press conferences, and I tow the running-game line ... and say ‘teamy’ things like, ‘sure I’d like to throw it 50 times, but we’re a running team’ so ...

Kardashian:  And ...

Palmer:  I want to throw the damn ball ... 50 times! Eveybody knows it ... my butcher knows it ... my neighbor knows it ...  my dog knows it ... I want to throw it 50 times, okay!

Kardashian:  So handing off to Ced all day, and dumping it off to the backs? ...

Palmer:  Yes, I have been Dilferized.

Kardashian:  The shorty-ass passes?

Palmer:  Dilferized.

Kardashian:  The little dunky stuff over the middle?

Palmer:  Dilferized.

Kardashian:  Some say the passing woes are your fault.

Palmer:  Look, Jessica.

Kardashian:  It's Kim.

Palmer:   We don’t even practice passing any more. Passing drills have been replaced by bowling, playing Limbo and London Bridge Is Falling Down, and titty-twisters on Andre Smith.

Kardashian:  So what’s the answer?

Palmer:  I’ll tell you, Brittney ...

Kardashian:  Kim.

Palmer:  Somehow I have to become totally ... completely ... 100 percent ... de-TrentDilferized.

Kardashian:  How?

Palmer:  First, we must not converse with the Demon Dilfer. Do not challenge the Demon. And do not command the Demon to do anything on our own authority ... make sure we use John Elway’s name and authority. And do not be afraid, and do not get angry or lose your temper, for the Demon Dilfer dwells and gets its energy from our fear, anger and temper. And use the name of John Elway, say "by the blood of Elway" ... and say psalms 93 and 91.

Kardashian:  Cool.

Look for next week's Part 2 of Kardashian’s revealing interview with Carson Palmer’s alter ego.

Oddbounces.com News Service - On the heels of a disgraced Tiger Woods saying he’ll leave the PGA Tour, the Cincinnati Bengals passing game has announced its leaving the NFL.

Obviously embarrassed by recent revelations of multiple indiscretions at a local Motel 6, the Bengals passing game at first denied it was knocked unconscious (with a 2-iron barbell) after backing its SUV into a tackling dummy.

To date, 50 (same as the team’s passing YPG) women have come forward, admitting to sexual encounters with the once-proud Bengals passing game. When pressed by hordes of swarming media, The Bengals Chad Ochocinco came clean.

“It’s true, we’re a sex addict,” said the renegade wide receiver of the team's crippled passing game. “Why do you think I do all that Twittering.”

The Bengals’ defense has apparently known for weeks, maybe months. Linebacker Keith Rivers said, “Everybody knows sex addicts can’t pass.” Second-year defensive tackle Pat Sims added, “We got suspicious during film reviews. Their ‘offensive’ films had really strange soundtracks, and they’d stay locked in stalls for hours. It’s sad.”

Newport’s Debbie Dallas told Oddbounces.com she ended her 4-year affair with the Bengals passing game. “Sure, that passing game was a sexy stud-muffin for awhile, wearing those really tight jeans and Donna Karan silk shirts. But it ended when they stopped going deep. A little shorty passing game doesn’t do it for me.”

The Bengals passing game refused comment.

Because of my much-publicized bedside promise to a dying Brain Piccolo, I rarely watch broadcast or cable TV programming. Enduring old Bill Cowher press conference reruns actually seems more appealing. I mean, come on, how can we legally permit I.Q.-insulting shows like “How I Met Your Mother” to inflict irreparable damage upon millions of unsuspecting innocents. Look at what it’s done to Tiger. And Rich Eisen.

But, I’m admittedly hooked on FOX’s Fringe, a modern-day X-Files chronicling hush-hush fringe science experiments. Why watch that? Because sooner or later we’ll no doubt see a Cincinnati Bengals episode. Hey, there’s my Bengals way up there, top shelf, just to the right of six jarred Kalahari pigmy heads, and Michael Jackson’s vagina.  

Go ahead, Google, Yahoo and Bing your brains out … very little if any serious, insightful Bengals coverage. Why? Because to this sad generation of sports germulists, the Bengals are Benson Burners of boiling, bubbling alien urine—not to be written about, talked about or acknowledged in any way.

I mean, here’s playoff-bound Cincinnati, a legitimate Super Bowl contender, going up against the 10-2 Vikings, and the biggest Bengals’ news has been Chad being fined AGAIN for a sideline antic? Hell, even Tom Brady’s little demon-seed got more pub.

So, note to sports media (yes, that’s 90 percent of you frozen Klondike Bars at the NFL Network). First, hire a team of linguistics. They’re not the BINGghouls (you listening, Marshall Faulk ... cuz, hey, Bengals fans could have a field day with YOUR last name). Secondly, we beg of you, stop saying, “brings to the table” and “at the end of the day”. Please? Or we will kill you.   

(The above does not apply to pros like Solomon Wilcots, Merrill Hoge, Ron Jaworski.)

Hold the presses. I just received the next Fringe script. Plot: Bengals implanted with mutant Bret Favre stem cells, morph into conjoined Carson Palmer twins, team doubles its passing YPG. Walter wets himself. Peter does a full-body sniff on a slumbering Olivia.

Considering what the BINGghouls bring to the table, at the end of the day—Cincinnati 21, Minnesota 17.

December 11, 2009 – As Steelers’ playoff hopes essentially died Thursday in Cleveland, Pittsburgh-area officials were quick to report an expected bump to its local economy, as millions of jobless Steelers fans will soon return to vacated drive-thru jobs.

“Our economy is built around the fast-food drive-thru industry,” said Pittsburgh Chamber of Commerce president Black Lungston. “Each year millions of Steelers fans leave their drive-thru jobs to blog 20 hours a day about the Steelers.”  

According to the U.S. Chamber of Commerce, nearly 92 percent of all Pittsburgh drive-thru positions have gone unfilled since the first 2009 pre-season game.

Byron Krunk, known on NFL blogs as 2-4-Da-Thumb, and who still owns the blogosphere record for most usage of the word “Bungles” (27,546,712), is already looking to the 2010 season.

“No way I’m going back to Wendy’s,” Krunk said. “No F---ing way. Sure, I had a highly challenging job there, but we can’t give Cincinnati one moment’s peace. They Bungles. Bungles suck, Bungles blow, Bungles bite me, Bungles eat me, Bungles are Bungles!” Krunk spent 12 years as drive-thru trainee at a Pittsburgh-area ButtyBurger.

Pittsburgh resident Spike Turner sees it differently. “Sure, I’m a Steelers fan and hate to see them lose ... but having to park and actually go inside for a burger? Hell no, me and my family just stay home. Oh yeah, Bungles suck, Bungles blow.”

Google Search spokesperson Terri Gradshaw said her company each year must reinforce server capacity due to heavy keyword traffic coming from Pittsburgh zip codes.

“When the Steelers get eliminated,” Gradshaw said, “we start seeing heavy blog use of keywords like Bungles, Bungles suck, Bungles blow, Bungles bite me, Bungles eat me, Bungles are Bungles ... even some ‘Bungles are dumbherds’, but we think they mean ‘dumbheads.’ They’re bad spellers in Pittsburgh.”

When informed of the Steelers loss, the Pittsburgh Fast-Food Drive-Thru Association said, “Bungles suck, Bungles blow, Bungles bite me, Bungles eat me, Bungles are Bungles ... Bungles are dumbherds.

We recently saw the Top 10 Things Chad divulges in his stupid, new book. Well, here are the Top 10 Facts About Chad That He’s Saving For The Sequel.

10. He only dates women named Meme.  Or Chad.

9. He once went on a date with himself ... and had a really, really good time. I mean like, it was so cool ... he told himself all about himself, and he really, really listened.

8. He enjoyed telling TJ’s ponytail to respect his “athor-a-tah”.

7. He spent all the money he stole from the team in 2008 for the courage to finally go over the middle.

6. Before love making, he routinely peeks down his pants for a quick plea of, “Child, please?”

5. He knows there’s probably some dumb law against it, but he still plans to pursue himself in marriage, legally.

4. Hard Knocks viewers know he’s clueless about banks;  but they don’t know he’s also confused by clothes hangers, holes in donuts, shoestrings, the number “7” ... and why babies are so damned freakishly small.

3. In the hot tub, he and Hushmanzatah would constantly argue over who had the best hands (hmmmm, why do you think TJ left town so fast?)

2. Before death, he intends to implant his own memories into a clone of himself, just to keep alive all those super cool thoughts about him, Chad.

1. He swears “Osi Umenyiora” is French for 85.

Once upon a time there lived a pretty NFL QB. Pretty arm, pretty release, pretty throws. Oh, and stacked to the max, baby ... with a good OL, good WRs, good RB, good play calling. And a decent Defense, too. Hell, there were happy, shiny people everywhere. It was 2005 and this QB Beauty was 11-3 en route to the Land of Lollipops and Playoffs.

Heck, he was as hot as superduper models Manning and Brady.

Then came The Knee. The Arrests. The Drafts. The Demise. The Apathy. The Elbow. Suddenly Little Miss Sunshine was ugly. I don’t mean your average street-corner ugly. I mean loud hung-over 4 a.m. alarm clock going off ugly. I mean dogbutt pimple ugly. Most bloggers and blog posters told us so – sure he can ring up big numbers, at times, but he can’t lead, he’s not clutch, he can’t move, he’s got no fire, he’s overrated. Oh, and worst of all he chokes. There was even the Carson Palmer Sucks Forum online.

Hot or Not? Not!

"I’ll take Roethlisberger, you get Palmer," they say.

Then, apparently, this ugly two-bagger of a QB got a blast of Botox. Some lipo. And an ass tuck, too. Waalaa, he’s pretty again. Sure, a few of his hallmark stats are down ... but hey, suddenly he CAN lead, he CAN move, he’s GOT fire, he’s NOT overrated. And he DOESN’T choke. There are happy, shiny people everywhere, again. While Goggling ‘Carson Palmer Sucks’ five weeks ago would gotcha about 32,700 results, my guess is that number is frozen, for now.

Since ’06, some have said putting legitimate, law-abiding talent around this one-time QB Starlet will restore the Red Carpet luster—others scuffed. Nay, doesn’t matter they said. Palmer sucks 32,700 times.

Hot or Not? Not! "I’ll take Roethlisberger, you get Palmer," they say. No doubt the four last-minute, game-winning drives had nothing to do with that lame ‘put talent around him’ claim. Must be the Botox. The lipo. And that ass tuck, too.

Ever wonder, if the Bengals were a person with real human traits who they be? Hey, I wonder that, too. Personally, I think their name would be Bob, who’d always answer, "yes" to his wife’s question, "does this dress make my butt look fat?" Bob would show up drunk to job interviews. And down to his last dollar, Bob would still park in a $500 tow away zone. Yep, Bob’s sorta self-destructive, and it’s his self-destructive nature that’s making it hard (if not impossible) to get a bead on this team. Are they a terminally mistake-prone, under-achieving team that somehow just finds ways to win? Or, are they actually highly talented, but just can’t find their ‘consistency’ gear? Hell, I can’t tell. But 3-1 is 3-1.

Palmer credits seeing The Chadster’s pick gloves for his critical game-tying, fourth-down TD pass—the pass preceding Cleveland’s 10th blocked kick of the day. To make himself even more visible next week, my sources report Chad plans to wear leopard-skin panties, on the outside ... and duct-tape a live beaver to his helmet.

Speaking of Chad. Anyone who’s debated football with me for more than 5 minutes knows my feelings about no. 85 – for all his immense talent, he’d be even better (and better for the team) if not for his profound selfishness. But my wife says I’m being too tough on Mr. Me Me, and that I need to funnel that energy in more positive ways; like household chores. So, today I’m vowing a moratorium on anti-Chad rhetoric, at least until after I paint the house and finish some yard work.

Was interesting watching the OT fourth-and-11 situation. While Lewis’ inner voice said, "go for the tie, girly man" ... his offense was screaming, "... grow a pair, coacher dude!" So, Kudos to Palmer and Whitworth for their impressive lobbying. My sources tell me the offense also talked Lewis out of allowing Andre Smith to take snaps in the wildcat, and running an entire offensive series of shovel passes. Great work, offense.

Final note. My sources also tell me that after the game an angry, despondent Shayne Graham tried calling to harass an ex-girlfriend ... but she blocked to call.

Yeah, okay, if not for the ol’ Tipsy Doodledooski, the Bengals are 3-0. But to the brutally analytical and terminally skeptical, like me, we’re also just a few false starts, missed blocks, dropped passes and botched on-sides kicks from 0-3. I don’t know if it’s more a commentary on NFL parity, or the Bengals’ Dr. Jeckle and Mr. ‘Go Hide’ for the first 3 quarters approach.

I mean, really, who is this team? ... and where does it hide for the first 45 minutes?

The Bengals have shown all the punchability I thought they would, could—just didn’t expect it to be compressed each week into the last quarter and a half. The question is, why? Why do they look like the Lingerie Bowl for the first 45 minutes, and Billy Jack the last 15? No, make that Billy Jack after a parking ticket—pissed and kickin’ booty.

Irrespective of the Steelers players’ post-game comments, they got their steel-belted butts kicked the last 8 minutes. The beauty of DirecTV Ticket is, ShortCuts, game replays in 30 minutes; so having watched twice now the last drive, it was obvious the Bengals OL slobber-knocked the Pittsburgh D all over the field (kudos to the Bengals strength/conditioning staff). It was a thing of beauty.

But bottom line, the team’s near 3-0 record, and the current 2-1 mark, is a bit cosmetic. If the butterfly had flapped its wings the other way, things could be a lot different.

At last glance, the cheerleaders are cheering for four quarters. The ushers are ushing for four quarters. Even the beer man beers for four quarters (okay, 3). So 2009 Bengals, this week, with this opponent, abandon the Andy Warhol 15 Minutes of Fourth Quarter Fame strategy and show you can conduct 60 minutes of Billy Jack, pissed-off, booty kickin’ business. Until that happens, me and my ilk remain terminally skeptical.

I’ll be honest, these days I’m not the most ravenous of sports media consumers. I find today’s sports blab-o-trons either too painfully and arrogantly uppity (are you listening every ESPN anchor trying to be flippantly funny, or devising the next cool catch phrase to land a TV commercial) ... ... or just too stupid (are you listening the person, or persons, who knowingly and willingly employed someone as intellectually sacked as Warren Sapp) ... any industry hiring that box of rocks (no disrespect intended to boxes or rocks) deserves some kind of swift and heavy-fisted Obama regulatory sanction.  

Where’s a Sports Commentator Czar when ya need one!

So I have to be honest, I don’t know a lot about Lance McAlister. Don’t know what he looks like, or sounds like. Hey, maybe he’s “as cool as the other side of the pillow.”  Or maybe he rivals Sapp in incoherent, marbles-in-the-mouth, 4-word sentences.  Nope, I don’t know Lance McAlister ... don’t know how far up or down the egghead scale he measures. But I do know there was too much wrong with his ‘Ben v. Carson’ comparison to address here.

So allow me to reply to a couple of points:

McAlister says if he’s choosing sides in the backyard today, he'll take Ben ... I get Carson ... and he'll beat me. Hmmmm. Okay, well, does the League’s No. 1 defense come with Ben? How about Pittsburgh’s perennial top-5 run offense? ... do you get that, and I get Cincy’s yearly bottom-third D? And doesn’t Pittsburgh have a 30-year formula for winning ... does McAlister get all that, too? And with Carson, do I get idiot WRs ChadTard and TJ YoYourMomma not participating in OTAs, or the pre-season.

Lance, yeah, you get Ben, but can I have the Rooney family? ... and you get Mikey. Oh, and what about coaches? The list goes on and on ... and on and one. Etc.

Also, apparently, McAlister is “tired of excuses being made for Carson. It's the OL ... it's the running game ... blah, blah, blah. Anyone check out how many times Ben has been sacked last three years? 139 times (46,47,46). Most in the NFL.”  While I could produce 10 blog posts on how this comment doesn’t wash, I’ll refrain. Suffice it to say that Roethlisberger and Palmer are very, very different QBs.

Ben is the big, fat Shreky slob of a QB living in a used double-wide. He functions best when the place is knee-deep in beer cans and empty jars of bean dip and cheese whiz. And Ben's place smells like cat urine. That’s how The Beergut rolls.

Palmer’s the perfectionist, preferring a tidier abode ... the prototypical clean pocket passer. Lance, because Beergut Ben is better at scrambling around in chaos doesn’t make him a better QB—it just makes him better at throwing threw beer cans. Okay, let’s leave it like this, Lance, my Jedi instincts tell me the gaps have narrowed between what Palmer and Beergut have around them.  If that’s the case, let’s revisit this issue in early January.

In the meantime, you take Extenze and I’ll stick with Old Spice ... I’ll beat you every time.

If there was one repeating theme in the off season it was, "we’re committed to running the ball" this year. Lewis & Co. said it in a variety of ways, but it was the same old repetitive, predictable (sorta like Brat’s play calling) message—the Bengals plan to run the ball this year.

(Funny, I don’t recall the great passing teams ‘committing’ to the run. Any similar quotes from Don Coryell in the ‘80s? ... Don Shula in the ‘90s? ... or Dungy in the ‘00s? Or even Sam Wyche. Man, I drool at the idea of Wyche coaching Palmer. But I digress).

Okay, I understand the benefits of running the ball, especially in the AFC North. I get it. I even understand the demoralizing effect on a defense to get run on. I get it. And ‘Boss Man’ (as ChadTard calls you), as a former coach at Pittsburgh and Baltimore, I encourage you (even beg you) to create our defense in their images; but NOT for crying out loud our offense, too. Jeez-o-pete and willy wonka, Boss Man, don’t you and Brat’run’ski realize Palmer is a once in a lifetime QB, and ten times better than any QB you had in Pittsburgh and Baltimore.

I mean, is it a ‘buy the Pittsburgh defense and get their offense free’ thing?

Look, Boss Man, you don’t HAVE to wait to 3rd and 9 to pass (yes, it is legal to fling it on first down). Oh, and about those rumors it being illegal to pass on consecutive downs ... well, they’re not true. Just rumors. Also, I checked the rule book—teams are permitted to go deep more than once a year. I’m just saying ...

Yes, I realize your beloved 2000 Ravens would never have thrown caution to wind and flung it around on first and second downs. But Palmer can. And your Steelers loved ball control—run, eat clock ... run, eat clock ... run, eat clock. Jeez-o-pete and willy wonka, don’t make Palmer into Neil O’Donnell. Shesh.

Boss Man, would you please get your mind (and play calling) out of Pittsburgh and Baltimore. If you and Brat’run’ski intend to waste Palmer’s talent handing off to your twisted memories of the 2000 Ravens season, then do the humane thing—trade him.

Okay, Mr. Brown you’ve proven your point. No one player is going to dictate how you run this team. Last year’s Chad Johnson saga was all about personal and team principals. We got it. We understood. And most of us agreed with you—for once. But now it’s about winning games for the fans, not winning games of cat and mouse with Johnson and his slimy, grimy agent. This year it’s about winning the Division, not facilitating a division within the team.

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I was always told as a kid, Little Timzilla, the day the coaches stop doggy you is the day they don’t care anymore. The same’s true for Chris Perry, I guess.

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Okay, admit it. We’re not like other families living on NFL Boulevard. Our house is the one painted a really weird color. Our yard isn’t quaffed like other houses down the block. Oh yeah, there’s those freaky 2 a.m. noises coming from rooms upstairs. And we can’t forget the creepy uncle who’s coming and going at all hours.

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More than once Monday night I had to double check the TV station. Was it Monday Night Football, Bengals vs. Packers … or a sappy Bridezilla episode?  Football or footsies? Smash mouth or kissy face? ESPN announcers and Aaron sittin’ in a tree … K … I … S … S … I … N … G.

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Training Camp Eve always brings out the win-loss predictors. From what I can gather the Bengals’ tallies range anywhere from 4-12 to 12-4, depending on a particular prognosticator’s football knowledge or homer quotient. Me, personally, I’m not a numbers guy. I don’t predict actual digits; way too many variables ... way too many factors. Plus, there are much better numbers guys than me here and at other blogs who can crunch numbers, do all the math—and make since of players added via the Draft, free agency or trade. But sometimes you gotta look beneath the surface. That’s why Bengals success in ’08 won’t come from what’s been added; it’ll instead come from what’s been subtracted—basically addition by subtraction.

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What next, a Character Combine? Did you hear the tackle from Cal scored a 900 on the Most-Likely-To-Knock-Over-A-Gas-Station drill? And What’s-His-Face from Michigan did pretty well on the Won’t-Slap-His-Girlfriend-Around course.

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The Bengals are talking NOW. That’s GOOD. I HOPE it works. But what about THEN? The releasing of Odell Thurman back into the wild had blogsters resurrecting the Police Blotter Draft of 2005. But my faded Memory Lane doesn’t include that 11-3 start, Palmer's emergence as a top-tier QB or the promise of a young, versatile Chris Perry.

My rewind to '05 brings back Palmer's knee—and Marvin Lewis' eyes. The moment it was obvious Palmer was lost that day, Lewis sadly seemed to be, too. Yeah, okay, our QB is down ... but hello, we're still in a playoff game here, guys!

When leadership was most needed, it was then back-up QB John Kitna rallying the troops, full of fire—while the head coach stood stunned, as if his house was on fire. (Is it possible Kitna’s fiery leadership was more responsible than Lewis’ coaching for getting the team so quickly from 2-14 to 8-8?)

Lewis’ failed leadership then seemed obvious to me, and upon sharing that observation via blog posts, well, one would have thought I’d spat on Mother Teresa, or worse, had asked Obama a legitimate political question (those were the hardcore “In Marvin We Trust” days).

But this isn’t an anti-Lewis post. It’s a ‘who is the real Bengals’ leader today?’ post.

These Gen Y Bengals seem to be latch key kids with no one in charge. Okay, it can be argued Palmer fills that role and I’ll concede to a point, but he’s the quiet Gary Cooper type ... the “cool guy” ... the “real nice guy” ... “who’s laid back”. As players, Palmer is Hall of Fame talent while Kitna was Hall of Fire temperament, a quality still sorely missed on this team. Another obvious pick is Big Willie, but can an aging OT with eroding skills really be that guy?

So who is “the” team leader? Chad Johnson? No-cho. Not at all-cho. NFL rules state one must be emotionally older than age 10 to lead an NFL team. Chad’s leadership skills go about as far as his yards after catch—pretty much nowhere.

TJ? Maybe, but Houshmandzadeh too often complains publicly about front office moves, and when discussing the team speaks in “they” tense, not “us”. Hugely talented, but “the” leader? Plus, missing all the OTAs takes him out of running. Rudi? Too quiet. How about good guys John Thornton, Reggie Kelly and Kenny Watson? They’re all talented, high-character guys, but the on-field production doesn’t measure up to “the” leader status.  

So, where’s our current-day Boomer? Anthony Munoz? Paul Brown? Forrest Gregg? Anyone recalling the 1988 Super Bowl team knows what I mean.  

If there’s really such a thing as team chemistry, today’s Bengals are 53 different lab beakers—and no one seems to be mixing the brew. When Kitna moved north, the team’s heart and soul went south. But Lewis’ recent moves are encouraging. Jettisoning the Capone Bros—Chris Henry and Thurman—is a positive step; so after 5 years maybe Lewis is ready for a breakout coaching year, and dare say “the” leadership role.

The Bengals no doubt have enough physical talent, but until someone runs a 4.2 in leadership, the team risks wasting a QB with Hall of Fame skills. Question is, though, who’s the ‘fire’ to Palmer’s ‘ice’. We can only HOPE someone emerges. NOW.