Revisiting the Ugly Rebirth of the Battle of Ohio
To commemorate the 19th anniversary of the primarily pathetic yet still memorable rekindling of the new Browns-Bengals rivalry in 1999 , here's an excerpt about that nightmare-come-to-life contest from Paul Brown's Ghost: How the Cleveland Browns and Cincinnati Bengals Are Haunted by the Man Who Created Them:
It was, unquestionably, the lowest point in the thirty-year history of the rivalry. Like watching two drunk uncles argue at Thanksgiving, both wrong and neither wearing pants.
The Browns had returned to the NFL in 1999 as an expansion team, albeit a truly miserable one. The hastily-put-together roster consisted of a collection of cast-offs and rookies that were comically overmatched against even an average team. But, as had been the case throughout the 1990s, the Cincinnati Bengals were no average team, embodied by a pitiful stretch going into 1999 in which they lost fourteen of fifteen games. Established though they might have been, the Bengals represented the new Browns’ best chance to capture their first win.
And here they were in Week Five: the 0–4 Browns hosting the 0–4 Bengals. The league’s worst offense against the league’s worst defense. The hopeless expansion team matching the chronically incompetent cellar dweller punchline for punchline. It was only mid-October, but it felt like the overall No. 1 draft pick was on the line.
Somewhere, Paul Brown was looking down at his former teams and wishing desperately to be looking at something else.
How had it come to this? How had the fierce Browns-Bengals contests of the early 1970s devolved into the cacophony of nonsense played out at brand-new Cleveland Browns Stadium on October 10, 1999? It was a game that was the “Yakety Sax” theme song away from a Benny Hill sketch. A game that, like the sun, hurt your eyes to look at.
But what made this game a true retrospective mess was the controversial subplot that surrounded the teams’ two completely overwhelmed rookie quarterbacks: Tim Couch and Akili Smith.
With intrigue swirling around the battle of winless teams like flies at a landfill, the contest actually turned out to be entertaining. The Bengals dominated total yardage and time of possession, but the Browns were in control much of the game. Smith directed a pair of long drives to begin his first start, but both stalled inside the Cleveland 10 and ended with field goals. The Browns took advantage and surged ahead on a clever fake field goal that saw kicker Phil Dawson scamper into the end zone for the team’s first rushing touchdown of the season. A Cincinnati fumble on the ensuing kickoff, aided by a long pass interference penalty a play later, set up a second score, and the Browns surged ahead 14-6—which would turn out to be the largest lead they would hold in their first fifteen games.
Smith’s first career touchdown pass just before the half capped another long drive and cut the margin to two, where it remained through the third quarter. A blocked Bengals punt led to a Cleveland field goal in the first minute of the fourth and a 17–12 Cleveland lead. The Browns’ first victory was within reach, particularly after Smith was stuffed for no gain on fourth-and-one from the Cincinnati 44 with 3:50 remaining. But having neither the experience nor the talent to land the knockout punch, the Browns were unable to run out the clock, and Smith and the Bengals regained possession at their own 20 with two minutes to play.
Thus began the first and last memorable moment of Akili Smith’s career. He completed four straight passes to drive the Bengals into Cleveland territory, the last of which converted a do-or-die fourth-and-four at the Cleveland 29 with thirty-two seconds left. Smith’s next pass fell incomplete, but the Browns were penalized for pass interference, giving Cincinnati a first down at the Cleveland 2. After two incompletions, Smith lobbed an arching pass into the end zone that Carl Pickens reeled in for the winning touchdown with nine seconds remaining.
Smith pounded his chest, cupped his hand to his ear, and ran his finger across his neck in a slit-throat gesture toward the stands and the Browns bench in an extended disco version of taunting the home crowd and the Cleveland franchise in general.
Afterward, Smith compared the game to the Super Bowl, and columnists in both cities declared the rivalry revived and potentially as good as ever. In reality, the Browns had simply remained winless and the Bengals had merely managed to avoid the embarrassment of losing to an expansion team—though just barely.
Paul Brown's Ghost is now available everywhere in print and as an ebook.
It was, unquestionably, the lowest point in the thirty-year history of the rivalry. Like watching two drunk uncles argue at Thanksgiving, both wrong and neither wearing pants.
The Browns had returned to the NFL in 1999 as an expansion team, albeit a truly miserable one. The hastily-put-together roster consisted of a collection of cast-offs and rookies that were comically overmatched against even an average team. But, as had been the case throughout the 1990s, the Cincinnati Bengals were no average team, embodied by a pitiful stretch going into 1999 in which they lost fourteen of fifteen games. Established though they might have been, the Bengals represented the new Browns’ best chance to capture their first win.
And here they were in Week Five: the 0–4 Browns hosting the 0–4 Bengals. The league’s worst offense against the league’s worst defense. The hopeless expansion team matching the chronically incompetent cellar dweller punchline for punchline. It was only mid-October, but it felt like the overall No. 1 draft pick was on the line.
Somewhere, Paul Brown was looking down at his former teams and wishing desperately to be looking at something else.
How had it come to this? How had the fierce Browns-Bengals contests of the early 1970s devolved into the cacophony of nonsense played out at brand-new Cleveland Browns Stadium on October 10, 1999? It was a game that was the “Yakety Sax” theme song away from a Benny Hill sketch. A game that, like the sun, hurt your eyes to look at.
But what made this game a true retrospective mess was the controversial subplot that surrounded the teams’ two completely overwhelmed rookie quarterbacks: Tim Couch and Akili Smith.
With intrigue swirling around the battle of winless teams like flies at a landfill, the contest actually turned out to be entertaining. The Bengals dominated total yardage and time of possession, but the Browns were in control much of the game. Smith directed a pair of long drives to begin his first start, but both stalled inside the Cleveland 10 and ended with field goals. The Browns took advantage and surged ahead on a clever fake field goal that saw kicker Phil Dawson scamper into the end zone for the team’s first rushing touchdown of the season. A Cincinnati fumble on the ensuing kickoff, aided by a long pass interference penalty a play later, set up a second score, and the Browns surged ahead 14-6—which would turn out to be the largest lead they would hold in their first fifteen games.
Smith’s first career touchdown pass just before the half capped another long drive and cut the margin to two, where it remained through the third quarter. A blocked Bengals punt led to a Cleveland field goal in the first minute of the fourth and a 17–12 Cleveland lead. The Browns’ first victory was within reach, particularly after Smith was stuffed for no gain on fourth-and-one from the Cincinnati 44 with 3:50 remaining. But having neither the experience nor the talent to land the knockout punch, the Browns were unable to run out the clock, and Smith and the Bengals regained possession at their own 20 with two minutes to play.
Thus began the first and last memorable moment of Akili Smith’s career. He completed four straight passes to drive the Bengals into Cleveland territory, the last of which converted a do-or-die fourth-and-four at the Cleveland 29 with thirty-two seconds left. Smith’s next pass fell incomplete, but the Browns were penalized for pass interference, giving Cincinnati a first down at the Cleveland 2. After two incompletions, Smith lobbed an arching pass into the end zone that Carl Pickens reeled in for the winning touchdown with nine seconds remaining.
Smith pounded his chest, cupped his hand to his ear, and ran his finger across his neck in a slit-throat gesture toward the stands and the Browns bench in an extended disco version of taunting the home crowd and the Cleveland franchise in general.
Afterward, Smith compared the game to the Super Bowl, and columnists in both cities declared the rivalry revived and potentially as good as ever. In reality, the Browns had simply remained winless and the Bengals had merely managed to avoid the embarrassment of losing to an expansion team—though just barely.
Paul Brown's Ghost is now available everywhere in print and as an ebook.
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