AFC North ugliness football at its worst
Some might say, thank goodness for the Pittsburgh Steelers, the Cincinnati Bengals and the Baltimore Ravens. No, not because Pittsburgh is the one team that looks like it could prevent New England from reaching another Super Bowl; no, not because the Bengals are a reliable playoff punchline, if they get there at all; no, not because the Ravens have . . . jeez, the Ravens. Ray Lewis, Ray Rice, opening up Deflategate and more Ray Lewis. The Ravens might be the worst.
No, the reason to thank those three teams is that no franchises are better at reminding us what the NFL really is. This week on Monday Night Football in Cincinnati, Pittsburgh Steelers linebacker Ryan Shazier left the game on a spinal board and required surgery; Steelers receiver Juju Smith-Schuster caught cheap-shot artist Vontaze Burfict with a blindside helmet to Burfict’s jaw, and then stood over him and preened; Bengals safety George Iloka hit Antonio Brown helmet-to-helmet on a touchdown. The TV commentators offered denunciations, and asked questions.
ABC’s Lisa Salters, post-game: “Ben, how would you explain just kind of the viciousness and the brutality of this game?”
Steelers QB Ben Roethlisberger: “AFC North football.” Salters: “That’s it?” Roethlisberger: “Yup.” Yup. Remember the Bengals-Steelers playoff game in January 2016? Helmet-to-helmet hit by Shazier on Giovani Bernard, Burfict intentionally injuring Roethlisberger’s shoulder, Cincinnati fans throwing garbage as Roethlisberger was carted off the field, Burfict delivering a shoulder to the head of a defenceless Brown, Bengals cornerback Adam Jones and others scuffling with Steelers coach Joey Porter, Burfict and Jones suggesting Brown was faking his concussion. Before that? Every Ravens-Steelers game from 2000 on, give or take, was filled with the most physical brand of football available. Brutalism.
The AFC North is football the way it used to be, or close enough. On Wednesday of last week, Roethlisberger sketched out the finer points. He told reporters, “(Against Cincinnati), it feels like it’s almost like you’re out there just to hit people. There’s not the same respect. We don’t feel the same respect from them that we and Baltimore have. I’m not really sure why.”
Related: Poor ol’ Cleveland. Wel- come back! Here are three division opponents that basically play the equivalent of prison football, two of whom have combined to win four Super Bowls since your return, one of whom used to be the Cleveland Browns. If you wanted a poster on why kids shouldn’t play football, it’s the AFC North.
“At the end of the day, this is football,” said Steelers safety Mike Mitchell this week. “If you want to see flag football, let’s take our pads off, that would make it easier for me . . . but give me flags to pull off because that way I know what we’re playing.”
It is a problem that football players have been trained one way and have to play another, but that’s the age. Pittsburgh and Cincinnati and Baltimore are, at the least, the most cartoonish version of the problems with football. If the league prevented teams from ever delivering an AFC North-style cheap-shot headshot again, the game would be better for it.
They won’t, of course, and it wouldn’t fix football if they did. But it would APPEAR to fix football. The worst danger is the subconcussive blows that lurk beneath the surface, all the little dings, the clashing hel- mets on the line, the celebratory helmet raps, the pops that don’t necessarily make a player wobbly-legged, that you can play through without a concussion spotter or booth announcer calling you out. The NFL could crack down hard on the kill shots, and clap their hands like they had really done it. They haven’t yet, but it would go a long way toward making the whole game seem less bloodthirsty. Sign up your kids for football today!
Last week, after a weirdly successful week, this space went 7-9. We’re back, baby. As always, all lines could change.