PITTSBURGH - Deep in the cave of his own, personal Bengal-ness, T.J. Houshmandzadeh was beating himself up worse than any Pittsburgh Steeler did. "The last two games were because of me," he said. "I lost both games."

For the second straight week, he'd fumbled a punt late in the fourth quarter of a close game. This one came with 6:20 left and Cincinnati leading Pittsburgh 21-20. The muff cost the Bengals three points in a game they lost by eight. It was a factor, not the factor.

Houshmandzadeh was looking for a cliff.

"I can't explain a lot of this stuff that's going on with me," he said. "I'm back there just hoping I catch the punt. I can't believe I'm thinking like that. I'm thinking, 'OK, don't drop the punt.' I never think like that."

You do now, bro, now that you've been Bengal-ed.

It's amazing, in a 20-car pileup kind of way, the stuff that keeps happening to this club. They don't hand out towels after showers anymore. They give all the guys shrouds. Maybe someday soon, someone will come up with a vaccine.

It's nuts. So's this: The Bengals have enough decent players who are also quality people, they could be sitting at 4-7 or 5-6 now, not 1-10. On Sunday, they were 1-9, down 17-0 on the road early in the second quarter, with no reason beyond pride to do anything but tank, and they nearly won.

If they'd ever get over themselves, they might win a few. If the Bengals could somehow escape the permanent 5 o'clock shadow of their own godforsaken Bengal-ness, they might actually put up more than the occasional W. But because everything about this franchise is so thoroughly poisoned by losing, breaking the grip of Bengal-ness isn't just hard; it's nearly impossible.

Bengal-ness has T.J. Houshmandzadeh. It's got him bad.

"I do a lot of stupid stuff," he said.

That doesn't make you unique ...

"I should have gotten down (instead of working for an extra yard or two on the punt return). I don't know, bro."

Bengal-ness sucks the swagger right out of you, and you can't play in the NFL without swagger. On their first possession of the third quarter, the Bengals drove to the Steelers' 29-yard line. They were at the closed end of the field, where wind is less of an issue. The turf was bad, but the field goal was just 46 yards.

Neil Rackers is 9-for-11 this season on field goals. He's 17 for his last 21. He hit a 54-yarder in the season opener. It's a three-point game. Dick LeBeau orders Rackers to pooch-punt.

"We played the percentages," LeBeau explained.

Percentages? Who wants percentages when you're 1-9? You're just three behind Pittsburgh at Heinz Field. You've come back from 0-17. You have the Steelers wobbly and thinking.

You try the damned field goal. Instead, LeBeau makes the fetal-position call.

Bengal-ness gets them all.

Of course, because they are the Bengals, the Steelers came back and launched a successful 45-yard field goal from the same spot LeBeau ordered the punt. It was kicked by a guy Pittsburgh signed Tuesday, who was playing in his first NFL game. Bill Cowher isn't afflicted with Bengal-ness.

It's too bad about T.J. Houshmandzadeh, who is a good kid. But it's not unique to him. Bengal-ness bites them all, sooner or later.

E-mail: pdaugherty@enquirer.com

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