Nothing says togetherness like an 18-ounce lobster tail. Nothing spells c-h-e-m-i-s-t-r-y quite like f-i-l-e-t m-i-g-n-o-n. What's the difference between 0-4 and 1-3? Maybe it's shrimp cocktails and crab legs, on the house.

Actually, on Willie Anderson's house.

"Four G's, whoooo!" said Brandon Bennett. The Bengals running back was reacting to the cost of Anderson's dinner for 26 members of the Bengals offense last Friday night at The Precinct. (The $4,000 didn't include the standard 20 percent tip and several hundred additional dollars Anderson tipped the banquet managers and servers.) "He's the sweetest guy," banquet manager Chris Speeg said.

The idea wasn't new. Football players have always come together at the dinner table. Boomer Esiason hosted his offensive line weekly. The way linemen eat, it probably cost No. 7 a mortgage payment every seven days.

But this was a little different. This was the entire offense. And this featured a group that is coming together in a different circumstance than the teams of the previous 12 years. Instead of gathering to gripe, they gathered to greet. And hope a little.

"We have a chance to change the perception of the Bengals," Bennett said.

Bennett found himself sitting with linemen he knew mainly as numbers. "All you know about them is football. Then you find out, this guy's funny, this guy likes to fish. You get to know each other as people, instead of just football players."

In other words, if you know a guy likes to fish for bass, just like you, you might pull for him a little harder. "You come to work and you don't want to be the weak link and let the whole family down," Bennett said.

Silly? Maybe. But football teams that don't play together usually aren't very good. Previously, the Bengals were united only in their distaste for being Bengals.

"If we're going to war with each other every Sunday, why not know each other outside football?" reasoned Chad Johnson. (This was right before Chad offered, "Three things are certain in life: death, taxes and me trash-talking." Do we love Chad Johnson? Yes, we do.)

Anderson, the host for the evening, downplayed his generosity. "It wasn't anything really. Guys were hungry," Anderson said. "Guys hadn't gotten their checks." He was joking. We think.

The shock wasn't the sticker on the evening. It was that the sticker wasn't more. Twenty-six football players could wipe out an entire barn. The 26 ate shrimp cocktail, crab claws, chicken quesadillas, 18-ounce lobster tails, 12-ounce filets, cheesecake with seasonal berries ("Willie's favorite," Speeg said) and macadamia nut pie. And macaroni and cheese.

Mac and cheese?

"Willie requested that," Speeg said.

After dinner, Anderson gave a pep talk, the essence of which was, according to Speeg: "I've been here since '96. I want to start winning. We've got it in us." Two days later, the Bengals beat Cleveland.

For what it's worth.

"To get to know each other outside the football setting is going to help us out," Johnson said.

Anderson was more cautious. He has, after all, been here since '96. "It was just important to get guys together," he said.

Will it help on Sundays? "You hope it does, but you never know," Anderson said.

"(Precinct owner) Jeff Ruby hopes you'll do it again," someone said to Anderson.

"I'll bet he does," Anderson said.

---

E-mail pdaugherty@enquirer.com

Return to Bengals front page...