Five and four. Five and four. I keep telling myself that we did in fact win on Sunday and that we are five and four. There is a lot of residual disappointment involved with this win. In fact, I don’t really feel like we won. I know we did, I know the record reflects that we did, but this has been one of the most hollow, unsatisfying wins that I can remember. In fact, at one point late in the third quarter, I started to get that feeling, the one that has been a constant in the new Charger era. The one that feels like you have a gut full of bad three a.m. Tijuana hot dogs, too much tequila, no sleep, cold sweats, and a heart rate like a drum roll.
Second guessing makes some of us feel better. Not me. Criticizing the powers that be for some of the questionable strategies that were employed in the fourth quarter in every one of the three horribly bad losses that have sullied our record to date help some folk. Not me. The decision to hand the ball to the most valuable fullback on third and goal from the two, while the ‘you’ll get no argument from me’ (four touchdowns on the day) best running back sits idly by as said fullback is stopped dead short. Fine criticize away. Doesn’t help me. Calling timeout to gather ourselves and set up the fourth and goal from one foot away handoff to the guy wearing #21 for the put them away score, his fifth of the day, only to then decide against all common sense to just kick the field goal. Not helping me. Instead of the jugular we opted for sensitivity. Instead of sealing the game and breaking a team late in the fourth quarter, we opted not to. Instead of showing the world that our team is the best and cannot be beaten, we opted to throw the noose around our own collective neck and hang our offense. Instead of sending a message of confidence to the defense that we trust you to defend 99 2/3 yards late in the fourth quarter, they took three and expected us to understand. So to review, we need one foot, we have the best running back in the world (four touchdowns on the day), we call timeout to set up the play to end the game, and then we come out of the timeout with the field goal unit, effectively icing our kicker. Again.
After the predictable run, run, pass three and out, and then the run, run, oh God they’re doing it again pass on third and long allowing the defense to put everyone in green, two goats and a guy with a concussion on a blitz fumble, I swore I was never watching football again if we lost this game. All of this leading to the defense getting more airtime than a Paris Hilton ‘intimate’ video. To say we are predictable in the fourth quarter when we have the lead is the understatement of the year. So as my heart is exploding and the defense is lining up for lung transplants I am forced to endure Dierdorf pointing out the obvious furthering my frustration and blood pressure by saying that ‘Marvin Lewis is a football coach.’ My team is going out on the field and telling the other team what they are doing, the defense is gassed, and Dierdorf is giving me that quality color from the announcer’s deck. Needless to say the mute button was assaulted. I didn’t need to hear any ‘analysis’ as Quentin Jammer was able to salvage what could have been the most devastating loss that I have ever been involved in.
So we did win. Sure doesn’t feel like it and I don’t think that it will. I am choosing to forget this game ever took place and hopefully by the end of the bye week, I will be able to. But, as far as I am concerned there is nobody to blame for all of the aforementioned atrocities. Nope. This is our soiled bed, and as long as it is being run by these people wearing the headphones with the lightning on them, this is the shit we will be sleeping in. We deserve this. You don’t think so?? I will explain why tomorrow.