Miami Dolphins « Black Marks on Wood Pulp / by Corey Vilhauer

Category: Miami Dolphins

Completely defeated

November 11th, 2007

0-9? What about 0-16? The Dolphins led the Bills 3-2 midway through the third quarter of today’s game. That’s a baseball score. Eventually, the Dolphins scored again to bring it to 10-2 in the 4th. A touchdown, two-point conversion and last second field goal later, and the Bills came away with the win, 13-10.

Another pathetic loss. Another wasted week.

These Dolphins are horrible. 0-9 horrible. The worst team in Dolphins history horrible.

Yet, I’m pleased.

See, I am completely convinced that the Miami Dolphins are suffering some sort of reverse curse – a problem stemming from their 1972 perfect season – and that they will not overcome the curse until another team goes undefeated or, in a worse case scenario, the Dolphins themselves go COMPLETELY defeated.

It boils down to arrogance. I shudder whenever I think about the 1972 team’s tradition of toasting each other when the last undefeated team in a season loses. Imagine, a bunch of aging footballers popping champagne, celebrating another team’s loss, rubbing an already downtrodden team’s nose in its own shit. I find it to be troublesome – an act that gives the Dolphins a bad name, a cockiness that is no longer warranted, like a co-worker bragging about the women he slept with back in college.

Former coach Don Shula denies this happens. But he’s covering something up – the players are still arrogant about the record, and I have seen footage of the 1972 celebrating with my own eyes. Really, we as Dolphins fans deserve to be cursed. We cheer this 1972 team on. We live in the past. We celebrate with them. We’re just as horrible.

I feel that this curse is complex. As the 1972 season falls further back in history, the teams have become even worse. It wasn’t as strong in the 70s – hell, they won another Super Bowl in 1973. In the 80s, it was a curse of success – of nearly making a huge run. In the 90s, it was the false hope of life after Marino.

Now? The curse is utter torture. The Dolphins, once a proud franchise, is now a laughing stock, a coaching and quarterbacking turnstile designed to give the Bills, Jets and Patriots two free wins each season.

So it’s no surprise to me that I find myself rooting for the rival Patriots to go undefeated. And that I root for the Dolphins to lose every game. I feel that’s the perfect remedy for the Perfect Season Cockiness – a perfect storm that will break the curse and send the Dolphins back into the throes of success.

Regardless of how it’s broken, I hope it happens soon. Dolphins aren’t supposed to drown. But we’re all drowning out here.

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Issues Considered: Football, Miami Dolphins, Sports

Loving the losers

October 10th, 2007

How does a person continue to follow sports when it seems that at every turn hides another loss?

It begins to wear on you. It’s true. This Dolphins season has been less than savory. After starting out 0-5, the Dolphins are causing must of us who root for the team – for whatever inexplainable reason – to give up hope.

And not just for this yea. The future looks bleak too. With a defense that averages 52 years of age and one of the worst offenses in the history of football, there’s really nowhere to go but up.

Unfortunately, we can’t help but think “up” is a long ways away. We’re not floating close to the ceiling here, fighting to break through. We’re in the floorboards, a tell-tale heart just scratching to make it above the floor again.

The funny thing is that, after a while, you begin to embrace losing. I’ll forever root for the teal and orange, no matter how outdated their uniforms look and how many quarterbacks it takes to get a win, but I find myself rooting for losses, cheering for the difficulty of defeat instead of screaming for a win. The Dolphins are the only team to go undefeated throughout a season. Could it be that, 36 years later, we could see another unheard of feat – the totally defeated season?

The extremes are easy to root for. There’s a gamers high that is often associated with winning. It permeates all of sports – an aggressive loss of inhibition that causes fans to lose touch with reality and claim their squad the greatest. And at the opposite end, there’s a feeling of release. The games ultimately don’t matter – the stress of backing your team is dropped, and you can be a lovable loser, pitied by your friends and understood by your opponents.

Winning is stressful. It’s hard on fans. Losing, however, is expected. It’s easy. It’s relaxing to settle, so settle we must.

No – the real difficulty is being right in the middle – the .500 club, the win one, lose one (or even worse – win six, lose six) territory. This the territory of the Minnesota Twins. And this is the territory of my beloved Pacers – a team that has settled into mediocrity after several years of contending. Now, they’re an also ran – too good to get a decent lottery pick, but too bad to ever even sniff the playoffs.

So it’s odd to find myself torn between rooting for wins and rooting for losses. The Pacers are as vanilla as you can get – a boring team with a new coach in a lame division. They’re already matched up against two Eastern Conference powerhouses – the only two remaining, actually: Detroit and Cleveland. They have little chance of making a splash.

And I’m trying hard not to give up, already, before the season starts. But, even though they won their first preseason game tonight, I can’t help it. I’m already expecting the worst.

It all started with Michael Jordan. Being a Chicago Bulls fan was easy. As a kid, I picked a team that had a chance to win the championship. And just like that, they won it. I was spoiled, thinking my team always had a chance, fooling myself that the opponents held some sort of spell over my team when I knew they had no shot.

And, when I realized what I had, I gave it away. I stopped watching sports and found myself drawn back into different teams – new favorites; no more Cardinals – now it’s the Twins; no more Bulls – now it’s the Pacers.

Those decisions have brought me heartbreak. The Pacers were very close for a while. Very close – several Conference Championships and a Finals appearance. And the Twins, well, they’ve created some amazing second half heroics in recent years.

But regardless of the surges they’d make, they would ultimately came up short, leaving me exhausted and somewhat betrayed. My lucky card never came in; my wishes never came true. The photo finish I always dreamed of is still just that – a dream.

So you’ll have to forgive me. It might be hard to watch a loser. But it beats going through the tulmultous ups and downs that accompany a mediocre team’s season – the maybes and the could haves and the almosts.

It’s easier to just accept loss. At least the only place my expectations can go is straight up.

Straight from the basement to the floor.

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Issues Considered: Baseball, Basketball, Football, Indiana Pacers, Miami Dolphins, Minnesota Twins, Sports

Sports with blinders

September 17th, 2007

The Oldest Box Score May 19, 2004. Sacramento Kings at Minnesota Timberwolves. NBA Western Conference Semifinals, Game 7.

Kerrie and I sat in an Old Chicago in Sioux Falls, surrounded by Timberwolves fans, blasted out by cheers and pummeled by the sound of thunder sticks. The Timberwolves won the crucial game, 83-80. The score sounds ugly. The game was exciting.

The Wolves went on to lose to the Lakers in the Western Conference Finals. That same year, the Pacers lost out to the Pistons in the Eastern Conference Finals, thus barring my team’s entrance to the Finals for the first time since 2000. It was a summer of near misses in NBA basketball. High expectations, crushed.

The real significance of the game, however, is personal. That night, sitting there in front of a television that was hung from the ceiling, nursing several beers and inching closer to my goal of World Beer Tour completion, I watched a sports contest all the way through, from start to finish, uninterrupted, with my full, unbridled attention.

I haven’t done it since them.

I’m a sports fan poseur.

I don’t watch sports. But I’m a sports fan.

I’m attached to the words and numbers that create the bare bones of a sports contest. I’m latched on to the box score that serves as a numerical blueprint for reproduction of the game. I know names, not people; stats, not performances. I’m ashamed, but yet, I’m comfortable with it.

I don’t watch sports with an attentive eye. I have them on, sure, and I watch them for the most part, but I’m always focusing on something else. And, realistically, even those times are rare, what with the low level of television time I afford myself. I find that I don’t need to watch an entire game to get the gist of the contest. I listen to sports radio and get the blanks all filled in.

I’m a sports fan dedicated to the standings. I celebrate wins without seeing a pitch, a throw, or a single basket. I receive text messages and lament losses without even knowing how the loss transpired or if it was even a good game.

I live my sports life through newspapers, much like those years before Sportscenter lived, listening only to snippets on the radio, yet knowing enough that Pat Neshek should have been voted into the All Star game.

I’ve seen only two highlights from the Dolphins this year. I’ve watched only about 20 complete innings all Twins season. I’ve been known to go until the first nationally televised game without even knowing the play by play of the Pacers’ wins and losses.

I love sports. But I don’t know why I don’t take the trouble of watching them. I mean, I can’t count the number of times I’ve been at work and someone has come up to me to talk about a previous night’s game. I know all of the key plays. I know who won. I know who scored, and what it means, and how the standings are lined up and how the playoffs are falling into place. But when he says “Did you see that play?” I simply shake my head and avert my eyes.

“No,” I have to admit. “I didn’t see the game.”

I don’t know why – I’m fine with it any other time. I simply don’t make time to watch the games; they take too long and are riddled with boredom and long winded commercial breaks. To me, seeing sports live has ruined the feel of a television game. I’m so easily distracted while watching it on the small screen. I don’t get the same feeling I do when in the Metrodome or at the Arena.

So I live my sports life through stats, scouring the standings and adding up home runs and comparing scoring averages instead of watching the subtle footwork and guile and teamwork that makes sports fun.

I haven’t watched a single television game straight through. For over three years. I’m a poseur. A fraud. A fake. A sports fan with no sports, a paper champion, a slave to the reporters and a cause for worry.

But to me, I’m okay with it. The 1910 baseball season wasn’t televised. Only your local team was heard on the radio. And sports were still as rich as they are today.

It makes me think – what is it about sports that’s important? Is it the physical act, the actual movement of sport and the visual aspect that encompasses nearly every television at some point in time? Or is it the underlying story, the results and the hard facts and the relationships that aren’t even brought out during the live event. Is it the act or the result that’s important?

And if the act’s what matters, why is so much focus placed on the results?

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Issues Considered: Indiana Pacers, Miami Dolphins, Minnesota Twins, Sports, Television

It’s another season

September 7th, 2006

From Black Marks on Wood Pulp:

September 14th, 2005:

“New coach Nick Saban has already shown that he’s a big deal, former Vikings backup Gus Frerotte looked decent (he was a hell of a lot more effective than former Vikings backup Jay Fiedler), and the defense has regained its “top-five in the league” ways.

So why am I still bracing for the crush? Why is Kerrie still wondering why I even watch football when I’m expecting the Dolphins to lose their next 15 games and end up with the worst record in the league? Why do I have such little faith in the Dolphins’ ability to beat the Jets this coming Sunday?”

January 2nd, 2006:

“But now I realize that Nick Saban and the Miami Dolphins turned themselves around to end the season on a high note. After suffering the first losing season in 20 years in 2004 (and on the verge of another one in 2005) the team stepped up, brandished their sports clichés, and reeled off six wins to finish 9-7. Not the greatest record, but then again this isn’t the greatest team. Not now, anyway.”

It’s another season.

It’s another agonizing season. It’s another season full of unanswered questions. It’s another season of mislaid hopes, unfulfilled potential, and inaccurate predictions.

It’s the first day of the NFL football season. And it’s another season of the Miami Dolphins giving their all. Well, most of the time.

The defense, once one of the best, is now aging. The team is on its fifth straight year of post-Marino, Viking-castoff quarterbacks. The defensive backfield – once a constant threat for interceptions – is gone, strewn across the league like an opened bag of trash on the highway. But this year should be different, right?

Yeah, it should be. Daunte Culpepper may be fragile, but he is no Gus Frerotte. Ronnie Brown may be green, but he is no Travis Minor. Chris Chambers and Randy McMichael are ready to break out – ready to make the jump to All-Pro level stars. The offensive line looks stronger. The team looks more complete than it has in years. Oh, and have I mentioned Nick Saban? He’s good.

Injuries and meltdowns aside, the Dolphins are poised to make the playoffs again. For the first time in years, actually. They’ve got a ridiculously easy schedule. They’re coming off of their first ever undefeated December since their last Super Bowl season (that was December 1984, thanks.)

Regardless, I’m skeptical. I always will be. When the Dolphins are supposed to be good, they aren’t. And when they’re supposed to be bad, they come through with a good enough season to instill a false sense of hope.

It’s another season of the teal and orange. Tonight is another opening game against another Super Bowl contender. Another game they could win. Or more specifically, another game they could lose.

It’s another hopeful season. But I know it won’t last long. They’ll cruise toward the basement. If not, they’ll cruise toward a heartbreaking playoff loss.

Really, we’d probably be better off using another quote from last season.

September 14th, 2005:

“I’m a self-loathing Dolphins fan. I can’t help it.”

Comments: 6

Issues Considered: Football, Miami Dolphins, Sports

It’s not quite a perfect season, but…

January 2nd, 2006

Unbeknownst to me, the Dolphins have been on quite a roll.

Six in a row to end the season, a win in New England, their first undefeated December since 1985, one game out of the playoff picture. Not bad for a team that was 3-7 and looking forward to a nice draft pick this summer.

And through all of this, I barely kept the team alive in the back of my mind. I had written the season off as another failed experiment – a decent defense with some good young offensive tools, marred by the media hoopla surrounding Ricky Williams, the unexceptional play of their piece-mail offensive line, and a revolving-door quarterbacking crew that seemed to consist only of ex-Vikings second-stringers.

Really, the Dolphins season was over for me when the NBA season started. I turned all of my professional sports attention to the hard court, where I’m currently watching the Pacers make a mockery of the season while failing to trade the biggest loony in the history of basketball.

But now I realize that Nick Saban and the Miami Dolphins turned themselves around to end the season on a high note. After suffering the first losing season in 20 years in 2004 (and on the verge of another one in 2005) the team stepped up, brandished their sports clichés, and reeled off six wins to finish 9-7. Not the greatest record, but then again this isn’t the greatest team. Not now, anyway.

Give NFL Coach of the Year to Saban. All of us Miami fans appreciate the great job he’s done in reviving a team that’s been mired in mediocrity for the past ten years. A franchise with the history of the Dolphins is bound to have a few bad years. Thankfully, they’ve only had one.

And things look to be on their way up.

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Issues Considered: Football, Miami Dolphins, Sports

The anti-fan

September 17th, 2005

I’d say that in the past five years I’ve taken my personal sports “fandom” from a level of casual supporter of certain teams to something close to a “fanatic-in-training.” I’m not quite at the level of watching two unranked Division II football teams fight it out without getting some sort of paycheck out of it, yet. I am, however, much more willing to watch the closing innings of a Tampa Bay-Detroit baseball game (two horrible teams that haven’t been any sort of threat in the past 15 years) or a Philadelphia 76ers/Boston Celtics 1979 ESPN Classic special (a game that happened when I still learning to walk.)

Part of being a sports fan is following “your” teams – I’ve got the Indiana Pacers, followed by the Miami Dolphins. You root for them to win, criticize their weaknesses, and give them a pass when they make stupid moves. These teams, for me, can’t do anything wrong, and while there will be times when I will drag their name around, primarily I’m stuck with them for life.

To prove this point: I once defended Jay Fiedler. That’s all I really have to say.

There’s another side of this, though. As I was listening to the Pitt/Nebraska game on the radio today, I heard mention of Dave Wannstedt (former Dolphins coach and team-wrecker.) I said to myself: “I hope he loses.”

I stopped and thought about what I had just said. I was not rooting for a team or player anymore – I was actively rooting against someone, hoping that they would fail. I realized how horrible this is, but also how much a crucial part of sports it is as well.

Everyone has a certain group of teams, players, and staff that they hate – teams that they want to see fail in every way possible. We’d root for these people to lose rather than rooting for the other team to win. It doesn’t matter the circumstances. The team must lose. Preferably very badly.

Dave Wannstedt is in my group. As is Barry Bonds (with his incredibly poisonous personality), Isiah Thomas (who has screwed up everything he’s touched as a coach and GM), and Jayson Williams (sure, he may have killed someone, but you should have seen his lack of hustle against the Skyforce last year.)

Every non-Miami team in the AFC East (the New England Patriots, New York Jets, and Buffalo Bills) is actively rooted against every week. In the event that two of the teams play each other, I root against the one with the better record.

Additionally, you can throw the Detroit Pistons in my group – as a Pacers fan I have no choice. Rasheed Wallace and Ben Wallace used to be rooted against, but Rasheed Wallace is on my fantasy simulation team and it would be hypocritical to wish him bad luck at this point. Ben Wallace gets a pass because he does the grunt work, which I always appreciate.

I’ve always had a thing for hating certain teams that have entered themselves as “dynasty” teams, especially when they haven’t done anything dynastic for the past ten years or so. The Oakland Raiders, the Dallas Cowboys, and the Yankees (who still do well, but wouldn’t without the ridiculous payroll) all fit this category.

I’ve never liked Antoine Walker or Latrell Sprewell, and I especially hated John Starks when he was in the league. Larry Johnson, too.

The list could go on, but I’ve already been put on snooze by half of my readers. My point is this: isn’t it weird to hate a group of people – to wish horrible defeat and never-ending failure upon each and every one of them – when they’ve never done anything to warrant your ire? Is it completely horrible to want Tom Brady to do nothing but throw interceptions, get thrown to the bench, and end up cut the following year?

Of course not. It’s sports. This is part of what I signed up for when I became a sports fan: utter contempt without guilt, hate in the form of team loyalty.

Now if you don’t mind, I need to attempt to curse Dave Wannstedt a little more.

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Issues Considered: Basketball, Football, Miami Dolphins, Sports

1-0, on the way to 1-15

September 14th, 2005

The Miami Dolphins are currently 1-0.

They beat the Denver Broncos 34-10.

They are ranked 11th in the Sporting News Power Rankings.

They are ranked 23rd (more appropriately) in the ESPN Power Rankings, though are inexplicably ranked three spots below the Broncos.

New coach Nick Saban has already shown that he’s a big deal, former Vikings backup Gus Frerotte looked decent (he was a hell of a lot more effective than former Vikings backup Jay Fiedler), and the defense has regained its “top-five in the league” ways.

So why am I still bracing for the crush? Why is Kerrie still wondering why I even watch football when I’m expecting the Dolphins to lose their next 15 games and end up with the worst record in the league? Why do I have such little faith in the Dolphins’ ability to beat the Jets this coming Sunday?

Because I’ve been through this before.

I sat through a 4-12 season last year when Ricky ditched us and left the country to become a yoga instructor. I’ve watched the team struggle to find a quarterback, seemingly cursed in that department ever since Hall of Famer Dan Marino left years ago. I’ve watched a supposed great defense wilt as the season went along. I’ve watched Dolphins teams that have gone 9-1 end up missing the playoffs. I’ve watched Dolphins teams that needed only one win (against a horrible team) always… always… lose.

I also know that the New York Jets have had the Dolphins’ number for as long as I can remember. The Dolphins could pull out a miracle and go 14-2, but invariably those two losses would be to the Jets.

Gus Frerotte will come back down to earth. The defense will get tired and underachieve yet again. Nick Saban will feel the sting of leading a losing team.

I’ve already resigned myself to this. If I’m wrong — and I hope I am — I’ll still mope around the house: “Oh, now we’re in the playoffs. They’ll lose horribly, they always do.”

I’m a self-loathing Dolphins fan. I can’t help it.

Comments: 2

Issues Considered: Football, Miami Dolphins, Sports