Open Letter to Mike Brown

Dear Mike Brown,

I am writing to let you know that you win.

That's right. You win.

It became apparent to me several years ago that--the only explanation for your absolutely horrifying decisions with the Cincinnati Bengals franchise--was either that you were a stupid NFL man (which can't be the case--I've been told dozens and dozens of times over the years that you're a very intelligent man with a good head for football), or that you were waging a war with ME personally to see what it would take for me to give up on the Bengals. For the life of me, those are the only two explanations I've been able to come up with.

And after 22 years, I'm finally crying "Uncle."

Uncle.

Uncle!

For the LOVE OF GOD, UNCLE!!!!!

I've been a Bengals fan for as long as I've known about NFL football, which has been about 40 years or so. I grew up in Frankfort, Kentucky, and I rooted for the Bengals because they were the hometown team, or at least, as close as we could get in Central Kentucky. The Bengals were just an hour and a half north. The next closest team at the time would probably have been the Pittsburgh Steelers or the Chicago Bears. The Bengals were home. So I've rooted for 40 years.

The first 20 years weren't bad. We made it to a couple of Super Bowls. Some truly great players came through town, including Anthony Munoz, Ken Anderson, and Boomer Esiason, and some real characters, too, like Archie Griffith and Chris Collinsworth. There were bad years--true--but they were mixed in with some absolutely fantastic years, and things were fun.

But then you took charge of the Bengals, intent on destroying me as a fan, and nothing has been the same. We've had bad years, just like before, but this time they've only been mixed in with TERRIBLE years and with simply mediocre ones. There were a couple of a little more than okay seasons about five years ago, but now we're right back into the terrible pattern that has defined the two decades you've been in charge.

So this season hasn't even begun yet, and I'm already writing this team off. I can't take another rebuilding year. We've been rebuilding for decades. I quit.

I haven't decided if I'm through with the NFL entirely, or if I'm going to transfer my loyalty to another team. Even though I live only five minutes from downtown Cincinnati, I've decided that the nearest REAL NFL franchise might just be in Indianapolis. It's only two hours from here, just a few minutes more than Cincinnati was from my hometown growing up. Maybe I could become a Colts fan.

Or maybe you've killed the NFL entirely for me.

In any event, I'm writing to let you know that, at long last, you've won.

You were the better man...