The noise last night was deafening. The hits were devastating, with players from both teams leaving the field battered and bruised. But perhaps the biggest hit of all, the most satisfying smash, was the one that Peter King and the rest of the National Media took right in the mouth when the Cincinnati Defense caused at least 5 turnovers and our offense put enough points on the board to outscore the geriatric Raven offense and beat their much respected (and feared) defense. So many questions surrounded the Bengals heading into Monday Night: Does Cincinnati even have a defense? Who is Cincinnati’s number 3 receiver? Who’s their 3rd down back? I have a question for you Peter King, Jay Glazer and company: Who’s your Daddy Now…and do you have the balls to admit you might be wrong?

With a goal line stand that lasted for what seemed like hours and where the Ravens had at least 8 shots at the end zone, our Defense stood up and made a statement. Marvin was almost giddy at the post game conference. Michael Myers and his diving end zone interception officially marked the transition that has been 3 years in the making.

This morning workers were cleaning the stadium, players reported for treatment and deep in the bowels of Paul Brown Stadium, a lone man carefully wrapped a package. In the box, he placed the entire decade of the 90’s. He put photos of Coslet, Lebeau, Shula. He placed in Warrick’s number 80, and then Klingler, Akili and Ki-Jana’s jerseys all barely used, all carefully folded. Finally on top he placed the well worn cloak of futility that draped this franchise for oh so many years. He carefully sealed the box, and addressed it to the next worst franchise in football: The Cleveland Browns, c/o Phil Savage. It was originally addressed to Romeo Crennel, but it’s likely he may not be there when the box arrives. The last thing in the box was a small note signed by Mike Brown, "Dear Browns: Thanks for firing my Dad. Karma Sucks! See you next week!"