You might be a Bengal Fan if…

… Each year you complain about the Bengals not having a GM, yet there’s a better chance of the WikiLeaks A-Hole becoming the head of the Grand Old Party.

… Each year you complain about Mike Brown being the worst owner in football (somehow the Sea Monster, er, Al Davis doesn’t seem so bad this year), but pining for a new owner is like wishing for the end of Evil and/or Reality TV.  I mean, Mike Brown can’t be the owner forever, but it’s pretty much guaranteed his spawn shall inherit the franchise.  The only bright side to this is that Paul Brown, the generation before MB, actually was a competent owner.  Maybe competence skips a generation.  Or maybe we’re just screwed.  I feel it’ll be the latter.  Damn.

…  Every time an announcer says something like, “That was a great pass by Carson Palmer” — and it does happen for some reason — you say to yourself, “Just wait until the next pick six.”  Carson Palmer doesn’t qualify as a passer anymore; he’s more like a stalker, because he just stares down each receiver like a Fat Thirteen-Year-old Virgin Male would stare at a Chocolate Megan Fox Statue (can you imagine his dilemma… for about a second.  You know he would hit that stuff and then eat it.. gross).

…  You expound on the virtues of drafting Andrew Luck/Cam Newton, even though deep down inside you know it will probably be like drafting David Klinger/Akili Smith all over again.  Bengals’ Law makes Murphy’s Law look like the Eternal Optimism of a Girl Scout on Crack (I can sell more cookies than *sniff” ANYONE).

… You currently watch Bengals game waiting for two things to happen: 1)  A moment of hope that really can’t be qualified as hope because you’re really waiting for 2) The Definitive Moment of Pessimism where the poop hits the fan.  Last Sunday’s game against the Steelers was a total cocktease in terms of the the Definitive Moment of Pessimism.  Every Bengals fan thought the game was over when the Steelers converted a 2nd and 30 (Thirty!), but then the Bengals somehow force them to eventually punt it.  During the next Bengals series or so, an announcer praised a Palmer Pass (it does happen, I swear to you), and then my stomach sank and the next thing I knew, Stupid Head-and-Shoulders Boy flew into the endzone with a Gift-Wrapped Pick Six on the Wings of the Demented Angels of Hell and Fury. Or he just made a good play.

… You want Bob Bratkowski to be fired.  Now.  Like, NOW now.  As in, “If I see another, ’1st down Run, 2nd down Run, 3rd down Pass Incomplete/Palmer Gets Sacked And/Or Throws an Interception,’ I’m going to be just really, really angry and complain even louder that Bob should be FIRED.”  If Bob isn’t fired, Bengals fans will just be THAT more depressed, and hopelessness will seep in further.

… You want Marvin Lewis to be fired.  Does Marvin care?  Or better yet, can Marvin at least pretend to pretend to care on the sideline?  He has this perpetual, “I’m not really happy” look on his face.  On a scale of one to ten, it’s a five.  He’s not happy, that’s for sure.  He’s NOT happy.  Does he actually do anything during the game?  Aside from realizing, “Oh yeah, that clock thingy, it’s still ticking.”  (Dear Western PA: Please take Marvin “I have given up on life, the Bengals, and different facial expressions” Lewis back.  Thanks.)

… You want Mike Zimmer to be the Head Coach.  This actually has a decent (50/50) shot of happening.  But it probably won’t.  This previous statement makes sense in Cincinnati.

…  You can’t wait for this season to end.

… You see the Reds signing of Jay Bruce as a really positive sign that, yes, it is possible for Cincinnati to have a sports team that can do something right.

… You already have detailed, seven-round draft picks figured out, with possible first-round draft trades, visions of trading Palmer in your head, and it’s not even January.

… You’re keeping hope alive that the Bengals will be better if Chad Ochocinco can keep his TV appearances down to just three days a week.

… You look to Terrell Owens for guidance in giving an honest assessment of the state of Bengals.  And you have no hope of T.O. coming back (which he won’t).

… You talk obsessively about how good Jordan Shipley is. And now the combination of (Fill in Whatever Receiver You Think It Will Be) and Shipley will return the Bengals to prominence.

… You have your loser friends give up on your season tickets that you share, and you’re the only one left who expressed any interest in keeping them, because, even though you expect next season to be another Train Wreck, you feel that at least there might be some Hope.  But being the sole person who owns two season tickets at roughly $1,300 total, that would make me, ahem, “him” certifiably insane, and he probably should be beaten senselessly to make sure he has sense in his head.

… If you keep reiterating the fact that pitchers and catchers report in just a few months.

It’s great to be a Bengals fan!