Quarterback carousels and misguided hope.
Being a Miami Dolphins fan since Dan Marino retired is like being stuck in an endless loop of a mediocre Netflix show; you keep hoping it gets better, but every season leaves you screaming at the screen.
Marino retired in 2000, and since then, Dolphins fans have been on a spiritual journey of suffering, confusion and misplaced optimism.
First, let us talk quarterbacks. Since Marino, the Dolphins have tried out more quarterbacks than a reality dating show.
Every new guy is “the one” – until he is not.
Chad Pennington gave us hope, but his shoulder had other plans.
Ryan Tannehill was like that one friend who shows promise but keeps flaking on important plans.
Then there was Jay Cutler, who seemed to play football the way most of us approach assembling IKEA furniture; with a lot of sighing and minimal effort.
Coaches? Oh, we have had those too. The Dolphins have burned through coaches faster than I eat Yorkshire Pudding on a Sunday.
Nick Saban? He ditched us for Alabama after one season, leaving a trail of broken dreams.
Tony Sparano gave us a brief glimmer of excitement with the Wildcat offense, but even that felt like finding £5 in an old coat – it was nice, but it was not life-changing.
‘This is our year’
And the heartbreaks. Oh, the heartbreaks. Every season begins with Dolphins fans chanting: “This is our year!” By mid-season, it’s more like: “Is it too late to start watching golf?”
It is the dropped passes, the missed tackles, and the baffling play calls that make you question why you still care. Even when the team got it together, New England was there to crush our dreams, usually with Tom Brady smirking on the sidelines.
Then there is the draft. The Dolphins’ draft strategy often feels like picking a pizza topping blindfolded. For every Tua Tagovailoa, there is a Dion Jordan – a player hyped as the second coming but remembered only as a trivia answer.
Still, being a Dolphins fan is not all doom and gloom. We have our perfect 1972 season to cling to like a life raft. We have teal-and-orange uniforms that are objectively, the best-looking in the league.
Finally and most importantly, we have hope. Misguided, foolish, inexplicable hope.
Because that is what being a Dolphins fan is about. Sure, it is painful, but it is our pain. And maybe, just maybe, next year is actually our year.
Probably not, but as the saying goes, hope springs eternal.
