This past Sunday, the Miami Dolphins failed so flagrantly, so perfectly, in a game so perversely important that was more meme than matchup, that I don’t actually need to explain what happened to them. But the thing you should know about the Dolphins’ suicide screen pass, which wrapped up their 17-16 loss to Washington, is that everything about the game leading up to that point would’ve told them that the play had no chance in hell.
I mean that literally. As in: The Dolphins spent the entire game throwing screen passes down the garbage disposal. It was this kinda shit all day:
On the next drive:
Trying to score at the end of the second quarter:
Look, we’ve all seen this before. There is no clearer way to signal that you are the overmatched football team than to run a succession of screen passes where the recipient of the ball immediately has the flesh torn off his bones by a pack of lions. But even by those standards, the Dolphins, as they are now wont to do, stretched the notions of good taste. This play in the third quarter drew boos in the middle of the drive, presumably from Dolphins fans, though given the incentive structure of this game it’s hard to know exactly.
If, later, you had one single play to win the game, and, despite the above evidence, you called a screen pass, which the receiver dropped, potentially out of concern for his own safety, we would have to conclude one of two things: that you were trying to lose the game, or that you’re stupid.
By now you know that this is precisely what everyone was pondering at the end of the Dolphins’ loss to Washington, probably the only team in the NFL capable of losing to the Dolphins without launching a Congressional game-fixing investigation. With one shot to convert a two-point conversion and walk off with a win, the Dolphins called the worst possible play, and executed in the worst possible fashion.
The Dolphins coaching staff insists that the play wasn’t called in order to secure a loss, so we must accept that it was called out of sheer incompetence. The part where Dan Marino crashes through your wall and screams “The Aristocrats!” is when you read that neither the quarterback, Ryan Fitzpatrick, nor the receiver, Kenyan Drake, had ever practiced the play.
Line: Team Owned By Daniel Snyder by 6
Margin: Team Owned By Daniel Snyder by 1
The obvious pick would be Josh Rosen, who is now eligible for induction into the Hall of Quarterbacks Benched For Ryan Fitzpatrick. Of course, you do feel bad for Rosen, seeing that he is also joining the ranks of players coached by one-time Bill Belichick lackeys who think they can show up and magically turn any team into the Patriots. One feels no such pity for Mike Gesicki, the No. 42 overall pick in the 2018 draft, who belies his lofty draft status by radiating Random White Tight End Spotlighted on Season of Hard Knocks Before Being Cut energy. Gesicki actually led the Dolphins in receiving on Sunday with three catches for 51 yards, but it took him seven targets to get there, several of which should have been accompanied by slapstick sound effects. Like, CBS should’ve just played the sound of someone slipping on a banana peel here:
Falling into a trapdoor on third down?
I have a rule about karaoke: You never want to be the one who cares the most, but you also never want to be the one who cares the least. This rule also applies to football games involving the two worst teams in the NFL. On Sunday, Adrian Peterson cared so much (about his own stats) that he backseat cancelled an audible called by Case Keenum. Peterson finished with 118 yards rushing on 23 carries, and he fumbled on the two-yard line.
How It Feels To Be A Dolphins Fan This Week
Like a million bucks that you might get in two or three years if people with a demonstrated history of incompetence suddenly make a long series of correct decisions.