History tends to echo in Cincinnati, and right now, it’s starting to sound awfully familiar.
If you’ve followed the Bengals long enough, you might recall the banner that once flew over training camp in the late 2000s-an airborne plea for owner Mike Brown to sell the team. Fast forward nearly two decades, and the frustration hasn’t disappeared. It’s just taken a new form: a billboard.
On Spring Grove Avenue, just off I-75 near Bank Street, a bold message now greets passing drivers: **“Fire Zac. Fire Duke.
Save Burrow.” ** Orange and white text on a black background-no frills, no ambiguity.
It’s a direct call to action, aimed squarely at head coach Zac Taylor and personnel chief Duke Tobin.
The frustration behind that sign is rooted in results-or more accurately, the lack of them. For the third straight year, the Bengals are watching the playoffs from home.
And while injuries, including Joe Burrow’s, have played a role, the bigger concern among fans is the sense of wasted potential. This isn’t just about losing games.
This is about losing time-precious years from the primes of Burrow, Ja’Marr Chase, and Tee Higgins.
That’s the core of the message: “Save Burrow.” Because when you have a quarterback with Burrow’s talent, the window to win doesn’t stay open forever. And with each postseason miss, that window feels like it’s sliding shut just a little more.
In most NFL cities, three straight playoff misses with a franchise quarterback in place would be enough to trigger major changes-at the very least, a shakeup in the front office or coaching staff. But in Cincinnati, that’s not how things typically go. The Bengals are expected to retain Taylor, Tobin, and defensive coordinator Al Golden for another run.
That decision is not sitting well with a fanbase that’s already been through its share of heartbreak. From the Marvin Lewis era’s playoff droughts to the high hopes that followed the Super Bowl run just a few seasons ago, Bengals fans have ridden the emotional rollercoaster for years. But this latest stretch-where promise has been met with stagnation-is testing even the most loyal supporters.
And that’s where things get real for the organization. Because when frustration turns into apathy, and apathy starts to hit ticket sales, jersey purchases, and overall engagement, ownership tends to take notice. If the billboard is any indication, that tipping point might not be far off.
The Bengals have the foundation of a contender. Burrow, when healthy, is as good as any quarterback in the league.
Chase is a game-breaker. Higgins, when retained and healthy, is a top-tier WR2.
The defense has playmakers. The pieces are there.
But the results haven’t followed.
The message from the fans is loud and clear: the patience is wearing thin. The clock is ticking-not just on Burrow’s prime, but on the current regime’s ability to prove they can get this team back to where it belongs.
The Bengals don’t need to blow it all up. But they do need to ask some hard questions.
Because in the NFL, talent alone doesn’t guarantee success. And if Cincinnati isn’t careful, they could end up looking back on this era not as the golden age of Bengals football-but as the great opportunity that slipped away.