Blunder in NY , Bengals fall late, 39-38

I’ll admit: heading into this one, I was feeling good. The Bengals (3-4) at home, the Jets (0-7) stumbling. I felt like we had a shot to gain some momentum.

In my youth-team practices this week, I stressed “finish strong, finish smart,” and I thought the pros were set up for that too. The kids in my program were confident, we drilled fundamentals, we ran the tough drills, we hyped ourselves for “make the play when it counts.” I expected my team (the Bengals) to channel that.

First three quarters: solid start

We kicked off okay — the Bengals got a field goal, built a lead. According to the box, Cincinnati led 10-0 after the first.

By halftime, the Bengals were ahead 24-13.  Offensively, we looked good: veteran QB Joe Flacco, running backs making yardage, wideouts catching. My youth-team players know: if we move the chains, run effective routes, make blocks — we control the pace. The Bengals were doing that.

Even defensively, we looked okay, though I sensed the cloud. My coaching brain noticed that the Jets were starting to creep back, and the Bengals’ defense looked a bit fatigued. Missed assignments, lack of second effort, backs breaking through gaps. The Bengals had to deal with that.

The collapse: fourth quarter nightmare

And here’s where it hurt. We had a 38-24 lead with about 10:21 left in the game. Nine times out of ten, I tell my kids: when you’re ahead like that, you finish. Block. Tackle. Control the clock. Protect the lead. Instead, the Jets exploded.

Their RB Breece Hall hurt us — 133 rushing yards, two touchdowns, and then he threw the game-winning touchdown pass with 1:54 left to their TE Mason Taylor. The Jets piled up 502 total yards, 254 rushing.

My heart sank. I told my kids: “It’s not the good quarters that define you — it’s how you close.” And the Bengals failed to close.

From the coach’s POV

As a coach, I see how this translates. I’m going to pull from this game in practice tomorrow: Lead management matters. We were up 14 with ten minutes left — that’s a big cushion. But lead doesn’t protect itself. You have to keep executing.

The Bengals might have relaxed. My kids? Nope — we’ll keep grinding until the whistle. Defense never takes a break. In youth ball, I’ll remind them: block-shed, run your gap, locate the ball. The Bengals’ defense got worn, broken.

We’ll stress second-level pursuit and tackling under fatigue. Special moments demand focus. The Jets’ trick play — Hall’s throw — changed the game. My kids will run “red-zone two-minute game” drills.

Being ready for the unexpected is part of being champions. Mental toughness. This loss stings. As a fan, I’m upset; as a coach, I’ll use it. I’ll tell the kids: when you lose, you learn. Bounce back tomorrow.

On one hand: I’m proud of many things we did. We moved the ball, gained yards, scored. Ja’Marr Chase had 12 catches for 91 yards. Our offense looked alive.

But on the other hand: we blew it. You don’t lose at home to an 0-7 team when you’re ahead in the fourth. My fan heart is heavy. At the same time: there is hope. The offense showed signs. The run game had moments.

My brain says: if we clean up the finish, this team can still turn the corner. My kids — I’ll tell them: “See how close we were? Let’s make sure next time we are the ones finishing the job.”

Finally.

Sunday’s 39-38 loss to the Jets is one I’ll remember — both as a fan and as a coach. It stings because pride hurts, but it teaches because I can bring those lessons to my youth team tomorrow: finish strong, execute when it matters, don’t let off the gas, and treat every minute like it counts (because it does).

And to my fellow Bengals faithful: hang in there. The ride’s bumpy, but if the team learns from nights like this, there’s a next chapter. Meanwhile, I’ll be in the gym with my kids, teaching them the fundamentals they’ll need not just for youth football — but for the rest of their lives.