There are Bengals games that hurt for a day or two. And then there are ones that profoundly demoralize you to the point that the mere mention of the game makes you flip the bird at the sky and fight off the urge to go on a west coast killing spree.
On November 12, 2006, I was briefly on top of the world, and then a huge lightening bolt got shoved straight up my and everyone other Bengals fan's ass.
The Bengals looked like an irresistible force for the first 30 minutes of the game, pouring 28 on the seemingly hapless Chargers. The team goes to the locker room leading by 21 and I headed to the concourse to bask in all that was good and right with Cincy that day.
Little did I know that the Chargers looked so bad during the first half because they were too busy working on an elaborate pulley system for hoisting up a grand piano big enough to squash everyone who ever gazed upon the Ohio River in wonder and amazement.
In the second half the Bengals were outscored 42 to 13, losing the game 49-41. The defense still hasn't recovered. On the bright side all those bandwagon, "Rodney Harrison played for the Chargers?" fans were happy so I guess it evens out.
Just when it seemed the Bengals were staking their claim as an elite team in the AFC, jackbooted thugs from San Diego tasered the shit out of us and stole our gold chain. F' the Chargers, or hopefully if there is a merciful football god, the whole state of California will break off into the pacific, never to beat us in football again.
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