There Is Only One Lap

Accept no Ring of Honor substitutes

Lap’s loose and happy

“A loose groin is a happy groin.’’

— The World According to Dave

Can’t argue with that, nosirreee. Men don’t know much in this unforgiving world. But we do know that. How do we know that?

Around here, it’s because Dave Lapham says so. As the pre-eminent and forever Bengals expert, football savant and fan without end (amen), Lap owns a certain credibility when opining on such things. The groin cred comes from the same place where “slobberknockers’’ and “road graders’’ live and “high-motor guys’’ are worshipped.

There are lots of reasons well-to-do Bengals season-ticket holders and suite swells should vote Dave Lapham into the Bengals Ring of Honor with the same obvious enthusiasm they showed Paul Brown. (Maybe more enthusiasm. Dave has been in town longer than The Great Man.)

His passion for the game? Of course. Lap sounds like football. He is our John Madden.

His knowledge of the game? Duh.

His unapologetic fandom? Dave has elevated Homer-ology to a fine art. There is no Dan Hoard play call that Lap can’t obliterate. Lap can make Nuxy seem objective.

No broadcaster has walked the line between shameless and adorable with more agility than Dave Lapham, not in any sport I’ve ever heard broadcast, and certainly not around here. There’s an undeniable charm to a homer in the booth, but only if he comes by it naturally. Newbies sounding like fans don’t move the meter. They move me down the dial.

Lap’s is an earned insanity.

He played for The Men from 1974-83. In ‘86, he entered the Bengals radio booth. In ‘91, he was a pall bearer at PB’s funeral.

There are broadcasters who go nuts for the home team because the home team orders them to. There are broadcasters who go nuts because they believe themselves fans, not credible sources of information. And there are broadcasters like Lapham, who are genuinely in love.

There aren’t many like that. Filter out the poseurs, the bootlickers and the cred-sucking homer-ramas, and you have guys like Marty Brennaman and, on the other end of the spectrum, Dave Lapham. Two great broadcasters for two very different reasons.

Bob Prince

It might be an OG thing. I spent a few summers in my early teens trying nightly to dial in Bob Prince, doing Pirates baseball on KDKA. You needed the fine-motor skills of a surgeon or a safecracker to get that Philco dial just right, and even then the bliss of clear sound was fleeting. And if there were thunder around, forget it.

I believe local radio broadcasters remain essential to the health and stability of a team, whether it’s UC or X basketball, the Bengals or the Reds. They are front-line ambassadors. The best of them leave a lifetime impression. The better than the best of them are the reason some of us pay any attention to the teams we might not follow otherwise.

Do you feel this way? Have the radio greats around here made you more of a fan? The steadiness of Byron and Joe, the professionalism of Dan, the candor of Terry. The unequaled easiness of The Cowboy’s banter. How important is any of it to your continuing interest in the teams?

Dave Lapham is Bengals football. If I were a Bengals fan, I’d find his delivery bare-knuckles appealing. Lap is one of us, cheering for our guys. Lap’s also 70 years old. Two generations of fans can’t recall a time he wasn’t putting verbal exclamation points on their joy.

He’s a jewel in the Bengals Ring. He belongs there already. Make it official now. Voting ends June 9.

Now, then. . .

KICKOFF RETURNS ARE LIKE KEITH RICHARDS. . . They’re dead and they don’t know it.

The NFL Competition Committee has decided that next season, return men can call for a fair catch anywhere inside their 25 and the ball will be spotted at the 25. The committee figures this will reduce significantly the number of kickoff-related concussions. AP:

Nineteen players suffered concussions in 2022, up from 14 in 2021 and 10 in 2020, according to data obtained and reported by Sports Illustrated. Those 19 concussions occurred across approximately 2,700 kickoffs – meaning 99.3% of kickoff plays were concussion-free.

So, we’re all but killing a big part of the game — offense, defense AND special teams, remember — because seven-tenths of 1 percent of it has proven harmful to heads.

The biggest problem I’ve had with kickoffs was their boring sameness. I was shocked to read that 38 percent of kickoffs last year were actually returned. I thought the number was much less.

My solution for returning relevance to KOs was to push them back another 5 yards.

(I also suggested several times in recent years that kicking teams deliberately avoid kicking into the end zone. Returners rarely got to the 25-yard line, so why give up those extra yards?)

Instead, the league has made the play almost irrelevant. “If we can make it a more competitive play on a play that’s becoming more ceremonial, we should always do that,” Rich McKay, chair of the competition committee, said.

Do that, then. Don’t trivialize it even more.

Special teams coaches aren’t happy; special-teams players are worried.

(Incredibly shameless plug. Credit: Me)

*

I wrote a book a few years ago about Nate Ebner. Finish Strong was a book about ceaseless striving and dreaming, most of it facilitated by Nate excelling on special teams, first at Ohio State and then for a decade in the NFL. Nate walked on in Columbus, after not even playing high school football. Special teams gave him a toehold.

They were his ticket to a lucrative and highly successful NFL career. Nate was a very good teams player. He won three Super rings at New England, playing for Bill Belichick. (As well as a spot on the U.S. Olympic Rugby Team in 2016.) How many Nates might there be in the future, if the NFL keeps chipping away at special teams?

In a year, they will reassess whether to continue implementing this 25-yard line spot.

PROGRAMMING NOTE. . . The Wednesday TML will arrive in late afternoon, until further notice. My cart barn schedule on Wednesdays is 6AM-11:30. My boss the estimable Mike Auterson is aware of the hardship this is causing Mobsters. He’s compensating me accordingly.

MY OLD KENTUCKY HOME FOR A DAY. . . One of the many cool things about living here is the utter lack of sameness around the region. Delhi is nothing like Symmes Twp is nothing like Lakeside Park is nothing like Batesville. Imagine living in, I dunno, Kansas City or Omaha. The flavor of the month is always vanilla.

On Tuesday, I played golf at Lassing Point in Union, then had a beer on Braxton’s rooftop in Covington and bought some cigars at Party Source in Bellevue. If I’d chosen, I could have eaten Thai in OTR for dinner.

All in our L’il Ol’ Republic.

TUNE O’ THE DAY. . . My favorite folkie is this guy, who I spotlight often in This Space, but of whom you’ve likely never heard. He’s been troubadour-ing his way around the States (with occasional forays overseas) since 1978. When, upon release of his first album, Rolling Stone decided he was The Next Dylan. As if anybody could be that.

Stevie keeps it simple. His songs are smart, wise and sometimes profound. He knows what he knows. I like this one a lot.