>>> Against Your Will December 12, 2007
By staff writer John Marcher
I typically don't write articles about sports or politics. Why, you ask? Because my opinions on these subjects are so omnipotent, I find it degrading to have to state them in the coarse medium of the English language. In short, my opinions are the very fabric by which the existence of these realities is constituted. With that said, there has come to the fore, an incredible phenomenon that I simply cannot remain silent about any longer: the winless Miami Dolphins.
To give you some background on the subject, I am a die-hard Dolphins fan. I have a gigantic man-crush on Dan Marino and his exploits on the field of play drew me in as a fan when I was a youngster to a degree from which I will never rescind. I will not bore you with the intricacies of this love affair that has taken place through my childhood up until now. Suffice it to say that I have paid close attention to all things Dolphin since I was a young lad.
And so it has been with increased ire that I have observed my beloved team over the past few seasons.
Since the AFL-NFL merger in 1972, only the 49ers have won more games than the Dolphins. This success has evidenced itself in two Super Bowls, but moreover in a long string of consecutively competitive seasons throughout the 80's and 90's and early 2000's. At the turn of the century, we had a solid defense predicated on the play of all-stars like Zach Thomas, Jason Taylor, and Sam Madison. Furthermore, we had a respectable offense which was anchored on the shoulders of one Ricky Williams. In his best season for us, he rushed for over 1600 yards and 20+ touchdowns. While we made little noise in the playoffs that year, a lot of the imperative pieces necessary to be competitive were in place.
“Week after week the Dolphins have sucked ass to a degree the NFL has not seen in decades.”
Then something happened. If you're at all familiar with sports lore, then you probably know that Ricky decided that smoking pot and doing yoga were more important than playing professional football. This saga continued, with the Dolphins suing him for the money they had paid him in the form of a signing bonus, Ricky deciding he would study holistic medicine, and at one point even deciding to come back to attempt to work off his massive debt. I won't go into the gruesome details of this heinous chain of events, but to summarize, Ricky has been playing in the CFL (Canadian Football League) for the past couple seasons, and the Dolphins never quite recovered from his ill-timed mutiny.
This started a chain of events that has since gone on to include several unsuccessful coaching changes (Dave Wannestadt, Nick Saban, Cam Cameron), multiple questionable personnel calls (trading Ogunleye for Booker, Trent Green instead of Drew Brees, releasing/trading Wes Welker, Junior Seau, Randy McMichael, overpaying for Joey Porter), and a continual lack or prowess on the field, most importantly. There hasn't even been the slightest semblance of unity, cohesion, or progress for our team as a whole. Last season we finished 8-8 and I thought to myself, that's about right. While we have some parts to the puzzle in place—a decent defense, a good running back, a solid receiving core—I knew we needed a spark to lift us above the perennial mediocre achievement that has marked our play in recent seasons.
I thought we found that spark when the draft came around and we were in a position to pick up Notre Dame quarterback Brady Quinn. I was excited on draft day as I saw the pick drop to our spot, excited for the first time in a long time about anything to do with the Dolphins. But then my heart dropped as we chose a WR/kick returner instead.
My misery compounded itself further as I realized that this pick was largely based on the fact that our new head coach, Cam Cameron, was good friends with that player's family. Are you fucking kidding me? Draft day is a time to attempt to improve your squad by filling in the crucial holes that your team needs to fill in, not a chance to schmooze with your poker buddies. And so, at that point, I didn't think things could get much worse.
I was wrong.
Very, very wrong.
This season, the Dolphins have put together no less than 13 consecutive losses. Week after week after week we have sucked ass to a degree the NFL has not seen in decades. And this is during a season of increased parity around the league, where the difference between the good teams and the not so good is as wide as it’s been in recent memory. The Dolphins have, however, taken this underachievement to a new level—namely, non-achievement.
As each week has passed, I have hoped, however misguidedly, that it simply wouldn't be possible for us to lose every game. Each week, I have been proven dreadfully and irrevocably wrong.
Two weeks ago was the clincher. The 2-8 New York Jets, who suck massive donkey balls compared to the vast majority of the other teams in the currently mediocre league, destroyed us 40-13. This past weekend the dogshit Buffalo Bills beat us 38-17. These are two division rivals, neither of whom is going to make the playoffs, and they have absolutely decimated us. And I won't even comment about how Randy Moss personally laid the smackdown on us when we played the Patriots.
Our starting QB is out with a concussion, our starting RB is out with an Achilles strain, and our best wide receiver was traded three weeks ago for a second round draft pick in this year's draft. This last event above all signals the futility of our efforts. You don't trade your best wide receiver for a pick in next year’s (second round) draft unless you've totally given up on your season. I don't see any light at the end of the tunnel in this situation, and it is with this in mind that I have decided to, against every fiber in my being, root against the Dolphins for the remainder of the season.
That's right, I am now hoping that we go completely defeated this season. In some odd way, I think this would be the only accomplishment possible for our team that would in some small way bring me joy. If we won one of the remaining games, making us potentially 1-15, this season wouldn't be anything other than another horrible performance by a horrible team. But if we run the table, and lose every goddamn game that we play, it will really mean something. I'll be able to look back years and years from now, when some other team is stinking up the league single-handedly and say, “Yeah, but they don't suck like the 2007 Miami Dolphins.” ‘Cause they won't. We will officially mark a peak in the discipline of sucking complete and total ass on the football field.
So with that in mind, I will be cataloguing my play-by-play analysis of the Dolphins’ prospective losses week by week, to be published exclusively for PIC.com, for all those interested. The way I figure it, I'll be doing my part to facilitate an accomplishment unlike any other in Dolphins history. And hey, at the very least, if we do go winless this season, there's no way we can do any worse next year.