Cincy Jungle
I was born in 1983, so the Super Bowl appearance that closed out the decade of hair metal and jean jackets is a very distant memory for me. I can’t honestly say I was a football fan at seven years old, but I vaguely remember my family and the neighborhood celebrating the season.
I didn’t really come of age as a football fan until the Broncos unveiled their new uniforms in 1997 and won the Super Bowl in 1998 and 1999. My dad, of course, was a Bengals fan, having grown up watching them play at Nippert Stadium before Riverfront opened. He didn’t care at all who I rooted for. He was just happy I was watching the games with him.
He worked a physical job at the Valvoline plant on River Road. After 10-hour shifts that began at 5 a.m., he’d come home and work on blocking drills with me or throw passes while I ran routes in the backyard. We don’t toss the football around much anymore because his shoulders hurt and mine aren’t exactly what they used to be, either, but we always have something to talk about.
That’s the Bengals.
When John Elway retired, I drifted back to Cincinnati, just in time for the regime change that brought Marvin Lewis and eventually Carson Palmer. During boot camp in the winter of 2003, my parents sent me multiple letters every week, and my father always included updates about the Bengals, who finished 8-8 that season.
Today, we have even more to talk about. I have children of my own, and I spend about 90 percent of my time feeling like I have no idea what I’m doing, but he’s always there to help. And eventually, every conversation finds its way back to the Bengals.
We’re both excited about the 2026 season. I’d love nothing more than to celebrate a Super Bowl championship with my parents and my children together. I’d like my father and I to stand on top of the football mountain together before we eventually find ourselves underneath it.
I haven’t been able to pass along the same love of football that my father gave me, at least not yet. My son and daughter are still young. Being a Bengals fan is actually cool now, which is something I never thought I’d say, so they both claim the Bengals as their favorite team, though I can count on one hand the number of games they’ve actually wanted to sit and watch with me.
Maybe that comes later. After all, it did for me.
And that raises another question: what will football even look like when they’re my age?
It’s impossible to ignore the violence of the game or the devastating effects of CTE. At the same time, football has never been more popular. It has a stranglehold on American culture, and its popularity abroad continues to grow. Every international game sells out, and with flag football headed to the Olympics, it feels inevitable that the...
