If it wasn't in the stars for Cashius Howell to stalk quarterbacks for his hometown Chiefs, it was perhaps pre-ordained he'd do it in the state of Ohio.

"But they had taken an edge rusher before me, so... you know, it's all good. I grew up a Kansas City Chiefs fan, but at this point, I'm just thankful to be a Bengal, so we're going to see them when we see them," Howell famously said during that second round a few months ago.

"That was one of the options that was discussed. Like I said, I'm very happy to be a Bengal, and wouldn't want to be a Kansas City Chief at this point."

If you want to know why that chip on the shoulder has been sanded down to a fiery edge and how Cashius Howell embodies the pure, uncut underdog, and why he showed up this spring with a ferocious focus the Bengals love, you don't have to go very far.

Start just up the road from the Bengals at turn-of-the-century Miami University.

What is it? Maybe 45 minutes north?

Start with a dad who gave him a rink rat's resilience and resolve. It helped make him hockey tough and intense, like last season's 11.5 all-out fore-checking sacks.

After earning two engineering degrees and a club hockey national championship at turn-of the-century Miami, Maximillian Howell went back home to Kansas City to coach youth hockey. And even though he wouldn't try to convince son Cashius to play after an early injury, hockey played a big factor in a Cincinnati football story.

When Cashius Howell fell victim to the pandemic and Power 5 negligence and didn't get a big-time offer out of Kansas City's Rockhurst High School, a skate got the foot in the door at Bowling Green, Ohio.

"It was really organic," Max Howell says. "I coached a kid in hockey, in fact, he was my favorite player that I coached, and his dad was (football) teammates with Coach (Scott) Loeffler at Michigan.

That favorite player who helped win a state hockey title with a regional MVP for the outsiders from Kansas City? Yale Van Dyne Jr. opted to follow his dad, Yale Van Dyne, and play wide receiver in college.

"High school hockey isn't that big here," Max Howell says.

Cashius Howell?

Every draftnick from College Station to Bowling Green knows that one. Loeffler, the head coach, and his staff mined one of those diamonds in the rough so well that Howell led the MAC in sacks in one season. Fueled with the flame of recruiting rejection, two years later at Texas A&M he was the SEC Defensive Player of the Year, as well the 41^st player taken in the draft serving as the Bengals' first pick.

"We just had a good rapport with the coaches." Max Howell says of BG, "and we saw that God had kind of laid out the path for him to go there, for sure. A lot of different things were at play, but it worked out well.

"I guess his whole recruiting process was just very disappointing. It really created the chip on his shoulder. It was unfortunate that they played during the pandemic. That was his recruiting year."

It worked out well enough that he's back in Ohio. But his dad first arrived in a trade long before that, when Max Howell was shipped from the Sioux City Musketeers to the Toledo Cherokees in rough-and-tumble juniors hockey while still just in high school.

"I actually graduated from St. John's Jesuit," Max Howell says of the Toledo school. "They had a pretty good high school hockey program, but I was there playing for the junior team, so I was like the youngest one on the junior hockey team at that point. (A half-hour) from the BG campus. That's why it was easy for me to say Bowling Green was a good fit."

If you think Cashius Howel has a chip on his shoulder, check out Max. As well as growing up in Midwest hockey anonymity as a left winger and defenseman, there was something else.

"From Kansas City and black," Max Howell says. "Two big chips."

That lack of respect in the recruiting experience, he says, was almost as bad as what his son faced. Hockey has changed swiftly in a generation. Max Howell never had an African-American teammate, and he believes he played against one team with black players.

"There were black players on both of the teams in the Stanley Cup (this year) and there are black (hockey) announcers on ESPN. P.K. Subban is actually one of my favorite players. A great announcer and great player. In general, there are more black guys in hockey now," Max Howell says.

During his red-shirt year at Miami in 1999-2000, he was on the club team that won the national championship. Just before the pandemic shut down the world and deferred his son's dream, he says he returned to Oxford for the 20^th reunion that yielded a national championship ring. Even before the rings glittered, the guys had been on a text chain for years.

That season turned out to be his final year of hockey.

"At that point in my life, I believed that I was going to go play pro hockey," Max Howell says. "I should have played maybe another year in juniors, but my … situation didn't really afford me to go play another year in juniors without going straight to college, and so that's where I decided to go take a kind of walk-on offer."

There was a coaching change, surgery for an injury sustained in a fight on the ice, and alluring studies. After deciding to leave hockey, he secured degrees from Miami in manufacturing engineering and engineering management and pursued another goal as a developer.

"I'm really passionate about urban redevelopment, urban revitalization, I have been a successful urban real estate developer for over two decades," Max Howell says. "So we've got a lot of our strategic partnerships with community associations, the city, and other advocates that are trying to create market affordable housing and revitalize communities."

Hockey was done, but he passed on his willingness to mix it up on ice.

Max Howell brings up the October game last year, another famous moment for Cashius. His son went viral while racking up two sacks and letting the LSU offensive line know about it with his No. 9 jersey pulled high and intimidating.

"In hockey, I didn't take a whole lot of crap from people," Max Howell says, "and I definitely had the same mannerism as Cashius did. I think his LSU game, I mean that's kind of how we are between the lines. Whether it's on ice or the football field, but its definitely a chip on our shoulders, I guess.

"He was raised to show his emotion on his sleeve between the lines, and I think that he's really grown into an outstanding man that is able to channel that energy and that fire, that passion between the lines."

But the kid didn't want to play hockey.

"That's a funny story, me being a hockey guy," Max Howell says. "I think at Christmas, when maybe he was like six or seven, I was all excited about him getting into hockey. I think I bought him all the hockey gear. He started to play, and he was a pretty good skater, and then he had an injury where I think he almost broke his arm or elbow skating. He just kind of looks at me, and he's like, 'Dad, I don't think I want to play ice hockey.' OK, sounds good to me."

But there were still weekends in the rinks when he followed his dad. "They knew he was the coach's son. He was around it." The son ended up rushing the passer with the mindset of a rushing defenseman.

This past Father's Day weekend the Rink Rat and the Hockey Guy had a sweet reunion. What Max calls "emotional." When Cashius returned home from the Bengals' spring camps, it was the first time they had seen each other in about a year. Or since Max dropped him off for that A&M trip and draft-changer year with those 11.5 sacks.

Max then served about a year for a white-collar crime in a term that ended a few weeks ago. During his stay, Max says it was Cashius who was an inspiration.

"My son's play on the field inspired me to work non-stop while I was in camp," Max Howell says.

What has also emerged is a manuscript for his book. Falling on the Sword: Lessons Learned from the Front Line of Urban Infill Development. He sees it as just the first page of a "trailblazing," library.

"Taking the ownership of mistakes that turn into victories via a Falling on the Sword Series, forum and curriculum," he says.

He also thinks his son read the moment.

"I made some decisions that were wrong in hindsight," Max says. "I definitely made some mistakes. I think that whole experience was an ignition to light a fire in my son's belly, and it really was an opportunity for me to sit back and deepen my relationship with God.

"It really ended up being a true blessing for myself, and I think that it actually gave my son a lot of motivation. He played really angry last year, and at the end of the day, in hindsight, I think it was a blessing for our family. It allowed for me and my son to evolve our spirituality together to draw strength from during the tough times."

Ohio may have once been a swing state. But for a father-son, it's stayed solid as a bond. Both staff and campers were congratulating Max on Draft Night.

"I was actually thrilled. I knew there was an Ohio connection," says Max Howell, Hockey Guy and now NFL Dad. "I know that Cincinnati has a good opportunity to be a really good football team. They've got a great offense. Knowing that he's going to thrive with an offense that can put up points is something great for us. I'm looking forward to rekindling the strong Miami / Cincinnati relationships during the football season."