When will the misery end, Thomas Paine? When can we have our own Common Sense approach to the myriad of problems facing our once great team?
I have never invested myself in Miami Dolphins football as much as I do now. As my fellow Dolphins fan friend remarked to me last weekend: “I used to look forward to Sundays.” Am I relegated to mediocre fandom and casual interest? Is that my sad future? Or are you testing my will, my perseverance, my innate ability to withstand temptation, scorn, humiliation and a Hobbesian ‘long train of abuses’?? I’m at a loss. I’m this close to strutting over to St. Patrick’s Cathedral here in New York, stumbling to the altar and falling down before it with palms laid out and tears streaming. In the late 80s and early 90s, maybe my family didn’t have electricity for stretches of time, endured incredible financial hardship and vividly recall memories of my father going out into the night to ask work friends for $20 to feed his family, but at least the Dolphins were goddamn respectable. At least I could turn on the TV on a Sunday and watch some magical shit for a few hours.
Keys To The Game
• Would be nice if someone other than a 3rd round pick from a little shit school could actually, you know, put some pressure on the QB so perhaps, once the offense is in, our O-line could actually do a decent job of opening holes for the ridiculously talented tandem we have behind them to run through and hopefully gain more than a yard so our noodle-armed QB doesn’t have to sit back there and fling a 1lb football he can no longer throw further than 10 feet on a good day, when it’s sunny, and there isn’t even a chance of a ladybug offending his throwing motion despite receivers that don’t actually enjoy the sound or feel of leather hitting their hands at even inoffensive velocities because this would be paramount to our defense not being on the field so long or getting coverage calls messed up or even contemplating the idea that Jason Allen could sniff the field other than to declare yea, it’s good to go, it’s perfect for shitting on before the whole team takes the field for the kickoff, pulls their pants down, and proceeds to systematically straddle every single yard marker while turding up the place like they’ve been doing 20 out of 21 games in a feat that may astonish some of the New England fans of whiter persuasion (read: all) but the Dolphins couldn’t care because that’s just what we do on any given Sunday.
That was a poor attempt at a David Foster Wallace version of the ‘Keys’. I’ll admit I was never a big fan but, since we here at FinsNation are all literary minds of character, substance and historical accuracy, I would encourage you to explore the real thing through the link provided here. The guy definitely seemed a bit pretentious at times but he veered towards the ‘likeable’ end of the spectrum (the YouTube Charlie Rose stuff is especially interesting). Plus, scaring the bejesus out of your wife by hanging yourself when she goes out to run an errand or two is kinda funny, no? Hmm. You’re right. I would have added Bob Dylan’s ‘Blind Willie McTell’ playing over and over again on repeat through the stereo so when she walked in it would give it a bit more gusto – particularly that last verse of the song if I could time the entrance properly.
A poor showing on Sunday and this might start to seem like a really great idea.
Prediction: Pats 24 - Dolphins 21