Orlando Brown Jr., the huge and hearty left tackle who grew up a child of the Ravens but has found a home as a Bengals elder dispensing gifts of wisdom and Christmas, plays his father's team Sunday (1 p.m.-Cincinnati’s Local 12) at Paycor Stadium on an offensive line that is growing into its body with its finest play of the Zac Taylor Era.

Here's why:

Last Sunday in Buffalo, as he is scanning the Bills deploying in the snow, Bengals quarterback Joe Burrow sees something amiss. The play dies if he doesn't change it.

He needs Brown and left guard Dylan Fairchild to block down. Not out. It isn't that running back Chase Brown hits it for one of the biggest runs of the day, it's the call that Burrow barks to ignite it.

"He used the word that we use on the line, the word the O-line uses," Brown says. "Very rare. Very rare. That just doesn't happen. We've talked about that specific look over the years. But the last time we talked about it was over a year ago. A lot of guys know ball. We've been in the system a long time together. We know what it should look like, what it should feel like. We're in a flow."

Center Ted Karras, Brown's co-CEO all things O-line, calls it, "Seeing the game as one," chalking it up to the grinding continuity of years of walkthroughs and playbooks. "And," Karras says, "we're winning our one-on-ones."

Since Brown's first NFL quarterback, Joe Flacco, made his Bengals debut on Oct. 12 through Burrow's latest masterpiece in Buffalo, the Bengals have the NFL's second-most passing touchdowns, third-most passing yards and fifth-most points, and they are doing it tied for allowing the third-fewest sacks while churning out the fourth-biggest yards per carry on the ground.

Brown says they're playing downhill and violently. After hurting his knee last year during his best season in years, Brown has returned to form in this eight-game run.

"He's played some of his best football the last two weeks," says offensive coordinator Dan Pitcher. "The biggest thing for me is I've been impressed with his intensity, his finish, his willingness to go try and manhandle the guy across from him. He's playing a very physical brand of football."

So is emerging second-year right tackle Amarius Mims, who lockers next to Brown and sits next to him on the team charter. He remembers winging back from Denver in the dead of night after the last game in September weighted down by "the worst game I ever played in my entire life."

Mims says he let the Monday night Mile High environment dictate his play, and, as usual, there was Brown talking him through it.

"He told me stuff I'll always hold forever," Mims says. "Since then, I've been getting better week-by-week.

"Not everybody gets the big brother treatment or the older role model in the room sitting there helping you through the process. Most guys see it as competition. They won't talk to him or give him advice. With him, it's never been that way. He's helped me from the moment I showed up."

Brown and Mims are third and fifth, respectively, in the league when it comes to the number of pass blocks. That reflects the challenges of being a tackle on a pass-first team.

Chad Johnson may have jumped on Orlando Brown Sr.'s back before a Bengals-Ravens game in a gag that went bad back in the day, but as a Bengal his son has never shied away from putting as much as he can on his back.

Dalton Risner, a vet on his third team who showed up just as training camp ended, wasn't sure what to expect from his new O-line room. Or an entrenched figure like Brown, who has been to Pro Bowls, won a Super Bowl and blocked for three of the greatest quarterbacks of the age. Risner didn't want to make any assumptions. But, look, a lot of guys who have been paid and have the accolades aren't always the most welcoming.

"He shut that down right away. He was one of the first people to say hello and make me feel welcome," Risner says. "He's one of a kind. Super talented. Super outspoken and backs it up with leadership and character. He's the glue in our room. If we didn't have guys like him and Ted, we'd be in trouble."

Brown and Karras have kept the continuity going even as a pair of new offensive line coaches took over this season. While head man Scott Peters and assistant Mike McCarthy instilled their philosophy and Xs and Os to fuel the line's emergence, their two leaders kept things humming. As always, Karras has an open house after home games, and Brown opens his door to the offensive line on Thursday nights for a catered dinner.

Except this Thursday night.

"Hey Ted. Where are we tonight?" Brown asks.

"Al Lupo," says Karras of the toney Mount Adams Italian eatery.

"Through Ted's foundation and the Anthony Munoz Foundation, we're having dinner with the alumni O-linemen. We've got guys from the '80s, '90s, even the '70s," Brown says.

These Thursday nights have been a godsend for a newcomer like Risner.

"I've never been on a team where a guy hosts an O-line dinner at his house every week and caters in Jeff Ruby's and Soto's and the best food in town," Risner says.

Those Thursdays also helped Flacco get settled in midyear. It didn't surprise him that it was Brown opening the door. When the Ravens took Brown in the third round in 2018, Flacco was his quarterback.

"I was impressed from the very beginning," Flacco says. "The thing about Orlando is you can tell he loves football. He likes going to work, putting in the time. He cares about it, and when guys see you care about it, (leadership) is kind of a natural flow. He's been around enough locker rooms to know people matter. He cares about people in general. You can see he's grown into one of the guys you look to, especially on that line."

Running back Samaje Perine, who has known him since they took their official visit to Oklahoma right out of high school, laughs through the story of their first meeting. The strength coach told the rail-thin, ungainly Brown to bench press 225 pounds. It didn't go well.

"I don't say anything about it. He brings it up," Perine says. "He's got the ability to laugh at himself and I think that's a reason everybody likes him. He doesn't take himself too seriously. … In this game you see guys that get arrogant. That's not him."

Flacco didn't play with Brown's dad, the massive right tackle nicknamed "Zeus," who became the face of the Browns when they turned into the Ravens during the move from Cleveland. His son was born in that first spring the Ravens set up shop in Baltimore in 1996, and Orlando Jr. remembers running around as a kid among Flacco, Ray Lewis and all the rest.

Orlando Sr., who grew up hard in D.C., and played just as tough, wanted his son to have everything he didn't and be everything he wasn't before he died at 40 when Orlando was 15. Be like your mother, he told him, and that's where the son thinks he got his outgoing personality.

His dad chased Chad Johnson into the Bengals locker room that day and had him cornered until security was called. "Not me," the son says. "Only if I have to."

"Baltimore is where I got my football foundation. And whenever I play them, I think a lot about my journey," Brown says. "But I try not to make any game bigger than the rest."

Brown was around teams early. He saw the people. He played with their kids.

That's probably why every Halloween he rents out a Cincinnati greenhouse, where the families of Bengals employees are invited. It's why he rents out the cinemas at Newport on the Levee one night every Christmas season and caters food while team families can watch a holiday classic of their choice.

"My kids wait for that every year," says Bengals equipment manager Adam Knollman.

It's why he hands out a holiday gift to everyone in the building. From Bengals president Mike Brown, to the franchise quarterback, all the way down to the senior reporter for Bengals.com. Even if you know him or not.

"For me," says Brown, "it's that connection with people. Looking out for each other."

On Sunday, he's looking out for a typical Ravens defense. They've been like this since he was a kid. Always playing fast, hard, interchangeable. They always seem to have guys like Mike Green, an edge who can drop into linebacker, and Kyle Hamilton, a safety who can set the edge.

"You've got to always be aware of where they're coming from," Brown says.

A tough year, but Brown says he's not discouraged.

"The football journey is dark in a way," Brown says. "It takes a lot of commitment. It's not always sunny. That's the beauty of it. It's not easy to make it here and it's not easy to stay. Playing against the Ravens puts things into perspective. You don't earn your stripes pretending."

Brown says he relishes all those one-on-one matchups. The passing stats and the points say he's holding up. He plays, he says, not for the pundits but for the respect of players, coaches, and NFL execs. For Orlando Brown Jr., playing for the guy next to him isn't some paint-peeling platitude. Like a gift, it actually means something.

"I'll always remember that plane ride," says Mims over in the next locker.