[ Blue Man Sings The Whites ]

Superbowl XL - Cincinnati Bengals (#3) @ Arizona Cardinals (#1)

I suppose it's fitting that it's led to this. A face-off between the two most unrelentingly terrible franchises in NFL history.

"Don't sell yourself short. The Bengals appeared in two Superbowls in the eighties and were good for most of the seventies despite the misfortune of sharing a division with the great Steelers teams of that era. They might have had a rough last fifteen years of so, but the Cardinals have ALWAYS sucked. They can't even START to consider themselves in the same league of awfulness as you."

Thanks so much for that vital clarification.

"All part of the service."

So, are you going to tell me what I'm up against here, or are you just going to take the piss all night?

"Guess."

What AM I paying you for?

"You're not. So given that this is the last one of these you're ever going to write, are you going to get around to explaining exactly who or what I am? People HAVE asked, after all."

Guess.

"Sigh. Have it your way. The Bengals are fielding a well-balanced offence, with young gun..."

Charlie Sheen?

"...Carson Palmer pulling the strings, with the humble and unassuming Chad Johnson as his main target. In accordance to a newly introduced NFL rule, the rest of his receiving corps is deeply indifferent. Peter Warrick is largely useless, and Kelly Washington is an honours student of the Donte Stallworth School of Running Very, Very Fast In A Straight Line Then Having The Ball Bounce Off Your Head."

Is that related at all to the Djibril Cisse School of Running Very, Very Fast In A Straight Line Then Hoofing The Ball Over The Bar?

"I think there's an exchange program or something. CD is in place at tailback, so the offence is pretty well-balanced let down only by the still-pretty-average offensive line. On defence - strongish front seven captained by Brian Simmons at MLB, average-to-poor secondary. That being said, they did shut out Miami in the Divisional round..."

And in other news, did they also manage to successfully fall off a log?

"And precisely how many time have you managed to hold the opposition scoreless, like, ever?"

That's not the issue. We're a balls-out offensive team.

"Balls-out?"

Well... these trousers are a bit tight.

"Moving hurriedly along... this actually isn't a matchup that looks too bad on paper. They'll score on you, but then even with Brian "Bloody" Griese at quarterback I can't see them stopping your offence on a consistent basis either. And if it becomes a shootout, then you've way more experience in making sure you're the team that scores last than they do..."

Are you implying that our defence sucks?

"If you'll do me the courtesy of letting me finish."

Okay. Sorry, Mystery Bloke. Do carry on.

"...because your defence sucks."

You really are an utter wanker, aren't you?

"But seriously. Good luck out there. I really hope you pull this one out."

Um. I think I must have misheard that.

"I mean, I'll be dead in sixty or so years. I haven't got the sort've time it'll need to wait for you to write up a fourth season of this bollocks."

-

Here we go, then. The big dance. The first Superbowl in franchise history. The glorious, beautiful light at the end of a long, dark tunnel of mediocrity and worse.

Let's just hope it's not a bloke with a flamethrower.

"Marcel? There's a lot on you today, son. I need you to get out there and give it everything you have, to leave it all on the field, to play like your momma just died. Okay?"

"Like my momma just died?"

"Um. Yes?"

"Sure thing, Coach."

"Okay. Shawn? You're going to have Chad Johnson most of the day. We just need a containing job. Don't gamble on the pick, don't mess about with the big hit, just make sure you keep the YAC down."

"He's going to be yakking all day, Coach."

"That's not what I... oh, you know what I mean. Right. O-line? You're where this starts and finishes, boys. You've got to keep Brian off his ass, and give Marcel some room to work with. All I heard from everywhere when I first took over this team was how overrated you guys were. There's a chance for you to show what you're made of, and you owe it to yourselves to take it. Yeah?"

"You got it, Coach."

"Right. Wendell? The Bengals are the guys in the white jerseys. Try to hit THEM, okay? If you get confused, look and see what colour YOU'RE wearing, and go for the other side. Got that?"

"Mungo like candy!"

"Brilliant. And Brian?"

"Yeah, Coach?"

"For God's sake, please at least TRY not to fuck this up."

-

Detroit, then. Ford Field. And the dome is rockin', packed to the rafters with fans of two perennially disappointing teams, all of them hoping against hope that this might be the year when it all goes horribly right. The sound is unbelievable, a constant echoing roar that's practically a physical thing, reverberating up through the floor to shake you in the guts.

And then the players come out to be introduced.

And it gets louder.

I think I need the toilet.

We win the toss, and with no wind to concern ourselves with we elect to kick, as is our wont. The kickoff's returned all the way out to the 45, from where Corey Dillon's first carry of the game goes for 25 yards. And his second sees him running right over Shawn Springs for another 12, down to our 13. Kelley Washington finds a gap over the middle, Carson Palmer makes no mistake, and in three plays we're 7 points down.

I've got a bad feeling about this drop.

Okay. Okay. We knew they'd score a few points. Let's not panic just yet. We come out with that hoodoo we do so well - Marcel Shipp smacking it up the gut for hard yards, Bryant Johnson a quicksilver streak of red-and-white lightning down one flank, Anquan Boldin outmuscling defenders to the ball on the other. The drive eventually stalls at the Cincinnati 15 after a near-pick on a swing pass and a rare-as-hen's-teeth Anquan Boldin drop on 3rd down, but Whoosamaflip Gramatica makes no mistake on the 32-yard figgie, and with 6 minutes remaining in the first quarter it's CIN 7-3 ARI

2 runs, first down. 2 runs, first down. 1 run, 7 yards. Screen pass, dropped. Screen pass, dropped. Phew. Clever bit of playcalling from the Bengal OC, there. The problem is that CD is breaking the first tackle EVERY SINGLE TIME - it was an enormously endearing trait when he used to do it for me, but I'd be lying if I said that it hadn't lost a bit of its charm. Punt's fair-caught by Brian Westbrook at our 15, and we're back in business.

'Course, we've got a pretty handy bruising tailback of our own, and it's just as well we do. Twice Brian Griese three times Brian Griese makes a bad decision or a bad throw to leave us in second-and-long, three times Marcel Ship crashes a big run through the line to pick us up a first. The start of the second quarter sees us at the Bengal 47, facing 2nd and 3. Cincinnati cheat up to overstack against the run, Griese audibles out of the crash-ball and gestures to Anq to run a fade pattern up the right sideline, takes five steps back and heaves up a pass. Boldin goes up and gets it, 33 yard gain, but what's this? Holding on guard Pete Kendall, and the play's called back. Damn. After the ball's batted at the line - double damn - and The Official Down And Distance Of The Arizona Cardinals sees speedy shortarse slot receiver Shaun McDonald get a bit of separation on a deep crossing route, but as Griese releases the pass safety Idrees Bashir makes a fantastic break on the ball from five yards behind the play, intercepting it at absolute full stretch. Damn, double-damn with a side-order of DAAAAAAAAAMN!

First down Cincinnati at their own 30. CD takes it to halfway - sigh - but on 1st down Jed Bowden knocks down a pass headed in Kelley Washington's direction, and on 2nd MLB Ronald McKinnon becomes the first player all day to actually tackle Dillon at the first time of asking. And injures himself in the process. Sigh.

3rd and 11 then, and one of the first obvious passing situations the Bengals have had all day. The coverage in the secondary is terrific, giving left defensive end Calvin Pace all the time in the world to overpower his blocker and spin Palmer down. Wahey! However, three passes on the bounce don't exactly get the results we were looking for - sack, Anq for 5, batted at the line - and just like that we're off the field again. Sigh. Then the punt's returned to our 35. Sigh.

We stop Dillon for just a two yard gain on first down - perhaps we've finally gotten the measure of him? Then on second, he runs right through four tackles down to our 10. Sigh. "On a big run to the outside, someone has to get a big block, and that's what just happened..." gibbers Madden. Yeah, of COURSE it did, you fucking tool. Two plays later, and fittingly it's Dillon who finishes the job, thumping over to make it CIN 14-3 ARI with just over 4 minutes to the half.

The hell with THIS. Anq runs his favourite hook-route, makes the catch, turns, punches out a defender and is only run down 44 yards later, at the Bengal 30. First down, and reading a blitz Griese audibles into a slant, hits Johnno in-stride and only a last-ditch tackle keeps him from the endzone. Marcel hammers over from 2 yards out, and thanks to our three best offensive players we've gone 76 yards in three plays and thoroughly woken up the starting-to-get-nervous Arizona fans.

We've left nearly three minutes, though, which as it turns out is about two and a half minutes too long. Dillon's STILL picking up yards, and now the Bengal passing game is starting to find its feet, too. A couple of big third-down catches for Peter Warrick help put Cincinnati in position to hit Kelley Washington for his second score of the day from 12 yards out, and with 34 ticks left in a half of see-sawing momentum it's CIN 21-10 ARI

We could just kneel it out, of course, but with a couple of timeouts still available and three quick receiving threats we're pretty well set-up to get a lot of yards in a hurry. And I've a sneaking suspicion every possession is going to count at the end of this one. So it's time to roll the dice. Brian Westbrook does his bit by taking the kickoff out to our 40. It looks as if Macca might have gotten some space to run, but a fantastic tackle by Brian Simmons brings him down infield after only a 7 yard gain, forcing us to burn our first timeout. Cometh the hour, cometh the man - Johnno absolutely bamboozles Terry Hardy, the cornerback trying to cover him through a post-corner route, and Brian Griese drops the ball neatly over Johnson's outside shoulder for a 33 yard gain, timeout at the Cincinnati 20, 13 seconds left. We take one shot at the endzone, but the ball intended for Anquan Boldin is overthrown and Thingamigummy comes out and slots a 37-yarder as time expires. Halftime, then, and it's not the best news but it could have been so much worse - CIN 21-13 ARI

-

Well, at least we get the ball back to start the second half. It's pretty important that we get some points here, because if Cincinnati stretch the lead to a couple of touchdowns we're going to start to be forced away from our so-far-pretty-effective ground game. Talking of which - Marcel Shipp opens up the second half with thee bullocking runs that bring us to second and 1 close to halfway. Up come the safeties, down the field fly Anq and Johnno, Brian Griese rolls out, sees Boldin in single-coverage and puts up the bomb - 39 yards, 1st down at the 10 from where it takes Marcel just two runs to bring us right back into the game. I briefly consider going for 2, but I'm sure there's a lot more scoring still to be done in this game and so embrace the maxim Kick Early, Go For It Late.

It doesn't last long. Dillon beats us up, and when we stack the line in a desperate attempt to slow him down, Chad Johnson beats single-coverage for a 75 yard score. Hey! Get your own schtick! Bastards. CIN 28-20 ARI

Successive passes to Shaun McDonald net us successive first downs into Bengal territory, then it's back to Shipp for the next one. A stuffed run and an incomplete pass put us into The Official Down And Distance Of The Arizona Cardinals, but yet again Anq gets us out of the schtuck, beating the jam and slanting in behind the linebackers to snag a 15-yard touchdown. Just under two minutes left in the third and we're back to just a point down.

Two Dillon runs net a first down - this is getting really boring, now. But with the start of the fourth quarter we go to the blitz for roughly the first time all game and it seems to help, holding Dillon to 2 yards on 2 carries. Third and eight, and Carson Palmer proves how difficult it is to pass when you've got Wendell Bryant in your face. Adrian Wilson knocks the ball away from the tight end, and it's the first punt of the second half.

After a fair catch at our 15, it takes 3 plays to get to the Cincinnati 29 - the big one being Brian Griese rolling out away from the blitz to buy time and hitting Anq downfield for a 30-yard gain. The defence seems to finally be getting a handle on Marcel, but it's coming at a cost - they stop 2 runs for 1 yard, but give up the first down when Macca gets open on an out, then hold Shipp to 5 yards on 2 carries, but leave Boldin uncovered on the hook to give us our first lead of the game with just over four minutes left in it. The deuce fails when Shipp's run is stuffed, but still CIN 28-33 ARI

This is it, then. Where the rubber meets the road. One stop almost certainly makes us world champions. No pressure, guys.

The kick's returned to the Bengal 32, and - surprise surprise - it's all Corey Dillon, all the time. 4 runs pick up 28 yards against our battered front 7, first down at our 40 at the two minute warning. Cor, dear. We can't do anything the bloody easy way, can we? An incomplete pass and a short completion to Kelley Washington put the Bengals into a 3rd and 6 situation, where once again they go to Washington, but Levar Fisher's there to stop him short of the first down line. God.

Fourth down, two yards to get, the desperate Arizona fans screaming their hearts out as the Cincinnati offence come to the line. Snap, Palmer drops back, handoff to Dillon who's just SUBMERGED under three defensive players! Game ov...

Shit. Play-fake. The tight end, Shaeffer, goes down the seam and Palmer makes absolutely no mistake - 24 yard score and it's like the air's been sucked out of half the dome. Dillon takes the ball on the swing-pass and, of course, busts through a tackle to add the two-point and our lead has lasted less than three minutes. Just ninety ticks left in the game, CIN 36-33 ARI

Here we go, then. Neck or nothing.

Westbrook brings us out to the 22, and two quick first downs - to tight end Freddie Jones, then to Macca on the quick out - give us 1st and 10 at our own 43 - 1:11 and three timeouts remaining. Short completions to Jones and Boldin give us another first in the Bengal half, and we burn our first timeout with 57 seconds on the clock. We come out in the single-back set that puts all our best skill-position players on the field at once - Shipp, Johnson, Boldin, Jones and McDonald - and call a run, but Cincinnati haven't matched our three wideouts by bringing an extra defensive back onto the field so Griese audibles into a pass, spots that it's Macca who the defence are trying to cover with a wideout and hits his receiver for a first down at the Bengal 27 to bring us into field-goal range.

We don't want to take our chances with the lottery of overtime, though, particularly with both offences in such dominant form. We have to win this here and now. 50 ticks left.

Griese yells at the offence, hurrying them to the line and not allowing the Bengals to substitute and correct the matchup problem they have in their secondary. Once again, it's Macca who gets free of his defender and picks up 9 yards, tackled inbounds, clock still running. We hurry to the line again, and it's Bryant Johnson on his favourite route, the quick slant, slashing through the Cincinnati zone and making the catch perfectly in-stride. A safety's there, but Johnno's momentum gets him over and half the stadium just EXPLODES! 34 seconds left in the game and maybe, just maybe, we've snatched spectacular victory from the very jaws of defeat.

As opposed to the other way around, which is our usual trick. CIN 36-40 ARI

With so little time left, the Bengals can't get fancy and we can FINALLY stop worrying about CD. Chad Johnson goes deep over the middle, streaking down the field on a skinny post with -praise be! - Shawn Springs with him stride-for-stride. Palmer puts up the bomb, receiver and defensive back both look up at the same time, go up for it together... and SPRINGS COMES DOWN WITH THE BALL! Our only turnover of the game, at it comes at EXACTLY the right time, Springs demonstrating PRECISELY why we paid fourteen million dollars and change for him this off-season. The offence comes down for the formality of three kneel-downs and that's the game! The Arizona Cardinals WIN Superbowl XL, and wwwweeeeeeeee are the champions, my fri-end, DUH, DUH, and weeeeeeeee'll keep on fighting, till the end, DUH-DUH-DUH-DUH, WHHHHHWWWWEEEEEE, we are the champions, WE ARE THE CHAMPIONS, no time for lo-sers 'cause we are the champions, DUH-DUH, of the WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOLD!

Brian Griese is named Superbowl MVP for his three hundred and plenty yards passing, three scores and a pick - although I have to say, I think I'd probably have given it to Anquan Boldin for his jaw-dropping 10 catches for 191 yards and two touchdowns.

And... that's it. What a long, strange road it's been. If you've enjoyed reading this half as much as I've enjoyed writing it, well, then I'm sorry you've had such a miserable time.

Be seeing you.

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(c) daniel roe 2005