small consolation, but...

[goober]

it helps to read the miami herald on mondays lately....

 

Season of shame is upon us

 

Miami has lost some of the easiest games on its schedule, three of them at home, and the offense looks confused, inept, historically bad and not improving.

 

DAN LE BATARD

 

dlebatard@herald.com

 

 

The season is over.

 

It took all of one month for the Miami Dolphins to be done, spent, short-circuited.

 

''We're the laughingstock of the town and league,'' cornerback Patrick Surtain said after yet another loss, this one by a 17-9 score to the New York Jets. ``I want to stay in my house hiding all day. It's beyond frustrating. It's embarrassing.''

 

Outside of San Francisco, the Dolphins are the worst team in professional football today.

 

Worse than the joke-for-a-decade Cardinals.

 

Worse than the national punch line Bengals.

 

Worse than at any time in this franchise's proud history. Surtain might be this team's best player, but he had just finished the single-darkest month in Dolphins history Sunday, and there was but one word to describe his mood as this lost season sank deeper into the sewage.

 

Defeated.

 

Again.

 

''Teams are licking their chops to play us -- even the bad teams,'' Surtain said. ``The goal around here now is to not go 0-16. We can't beat nobody.''

 

Only one team in the history of this league has ever rallied from an 0-4 record to make the playoffs.

 

Your broken Dolphins will not be the second.

 

''Same old sorry, sad faces in this locker room,'' Surtain said.

 

Surtain was asked whether he would describe himself as frustrated, angry, demoralized, tortured or ashamed?

 

''All of the above,'' Surtain said. ``If we don't stick together, we might as well give our helmets and pads to the United Way.''

 

They will not stick together.

 

They will fall apart.

 

Not even the substantive wills of Jason Taylor, Zach Thomas and Surtain can keep this sinking thing afloat now. Miami has lost some of the easiest games on its schedule, three of them at home, and the offense looks confused, inept, historically bad and not improving. Up next: Only the defending champion Patriots, owners of an 18-game winning streak that matches the longest in this sport's history.

 

You want a symbol from Sunday? Take Miami's last offensive play. A panicked Jay Fiedler, engulfed by Jets, tried to flip the football backward to 325-pound tackle Damion McIntosh on the kind of play that should have come with a laugh track. There is no circumstance in this sport when a ball should be flipped backward to McIntosh, so his horrified reaction was to throw his arms up in the air and actually back away from the football as if it were covered in something contagious.

 

His body language seemed to be saying, ``I sure as hell don't want that thing. Do you notice how many people from the other team it attracts? That's your problem, Jay, not mine.''

 

Fiedler threw yet another crippling interception that was returned from a touchdown, providing the following statistical anomaly: Through one month, this Miami offense has produced more touchdowns for the wrong guys than for the right ones.

 

''Has that ever been done before in the history of the NFL?'' flummoxed tight end Randy McMichael asked.

 

His head dropped.

 

''We stunk up the field,'' he said. ``Again.''

 

Miami's defense gave the football to the offense on New York's seven-yard line just before the half, but the league's worst offense couldn't even muster those last seven lousy yards.

 

''Epitome of our season,'' McMichael said. ``We haven't been in that area [of the field] in four games.''

 

Said Surtain: ``What more do you want? That's kind of demoralizing.''

 

Fans began evacuating early in the fourth quarter even though the game, technically if not actually, was still within reach, just a touchdown and two-point conversion away. ''They've lost faith in us,'' Surtain said of the fans. ``They've been booing us since the first game.''

 

Surtain's resilient defense is exceptional. It suffocated a very good Jets offense Sunday even without its two injured run stuffers. But here's the problem: Miami isn't as good at defense as Miami is bad at offense. It is an astounding thing to witness, a defense this good continually being betrayed by an offense that shouldn't break a huddle as much as spill from a crowded Volkswagen.

 

The Dolphins have been able to hide their quarterback for a few years. Not anymore. Now, because they can't run the ball, they need him to win games. And he can't. He isn't good enough. Defenses are daring the Dolphins to try to dink and dunk their way 80 yards downfield, but Miami simply can't do it without making a crippling mistake.

 

The face of this team Sunday? Try fullback Rob Konrad. A pass went through his hands and was intercepted. Konrad kept his face buried in the grass for a good, long time after that. He pounded the field twice with a fist, very hard, as if he were trying to dig a hole and hide. Then he took his helmet off and hurled it to the ground.

 

This is not what Dave Wannstedt had in mind when he wanted his offense to be ground-breaking.

 

Wannstedt is going to lose his job after this season, it appears evident now. So will General Manager Rick Spielman. There will need to be a wholesale cleansing to purge the poison once an unprecedented month seeps into the rest of the season, as it surely will. Wannstedt should start A.J. Feeley for the rest of the season. Or Sage Rosenfels. We need to see if these guys can play and are a legitimate part of this team's future.

 

Because the present has unraveled.

 

Miami's next meaningful game will be in 2005.

[WWVaBeach]

I actually almost kinda sorta feel just a little bit better.

[_BiB_]

You want a symbol from Sunday? Take Miami's last offensive play. A panicked Jay Fiedler, engulfed by Jets, tried to flip the football backward to 325-pound tackle Damion McIntosh on the kind of play that should have come with a laugh track. There is no circumstance in this sport when a ball should be flipped backward to McIntosh, so his horrified reaction was to throw his arms up in the air and actually back away from the football as if it were covered in something contagious.

 

His body language seemed to be saying, ``I sure as hell don't want that thing. Do you notice how many people from the other team it attracts? That's your problem, Jay, not mine.''

 

That's some funny stevestojan. I watched them last weekend. I almost actually felt sorry for them. They are really pathetic. Buffalo occassionally shows flashes. Miami couldn't flash women at a bus stop.