Well shit on a turtle, that was frustrating.
When the Fins defense caught those two early interceptions and The Leprechaun Patrick Cobbs left his Pot 'o Gold at the end of the rainbow to come to Houston to score a 53-yard and an 80-yard touchdown, and it seemed like Joey Porter was going to turn Texans left tackle Duane Brown into his own personal hand-puppet and have himself a career day, and we took that early 14-3 lead, I figured I should just sit back, relax and enjoy the show. Then our weaknesses kicked in. And they kicked in hard.
First off, there's our special teams. Holy titty-fuck does this unit suck. We all witnessed just how shitty they are when we played the Patriots and New England kept returning our kickoffs to the 40. Yesterday, the Dolphins coverage team gift wrapped that win for the Texans with a pretty little bow, while taking a shit in a box and Fed Exing it to us, the fans. Simply put, Jacoby Jones' 70-yard touchdown return was the difference in this game. No question in my mind. He doesn't take it to the house, we win. Period.
Second: Our secondary is highly combustible, and possibly lathered in Vaseline. I knew Andre Johnson was going to have a big game. The guy is a fucking horse (and he's from The U!). But for fucksake, I didn't expect him to have this kind of game. Michael Lehan needs to learn that you can't slap a guy's arm when said guy outweighs you by 132 pounds. Put a body on a motherfucker, Mike! And learn to fucking catch, Renaldo Hill, you fucking useless anal wart. Jesus, why does our secondary always treat the football like it was dipped in AIDS during the most crucial times in games? Bottom line, our defense was fucked to the tune of 485-total yards, including 379 passing yards from Matt Schaub, a guy who literally lost seven pounds a week ago after being hospitalized when he got some weird Amazon rain forest virus up his ass. This week, he bounces back and has a career fucking day. And let's not forget the craptastic showing from our D in that final drive. Twice, Miami had the Texans on 4th down. Of course, Andre Johnson makes a spectacular 23-yard catch on 4th and 10 where Yeremiah should have knocked it loose, and sets things up for the cockpunch. Several plays later, Schaub is waltzing into the endzone like he's taking a stroll in the park and looking for a restroom with glory holes in it. Cockpunch engaged. Game over (oh, and here's a concept the coaches should consider: when something is working, STICK WITH IT! Whenever we put pressure on Schaub, he would wilt faster than I do whenever I imagine Rosie O'Donnell naked. Why we didn't keep sending guys into Schaub's face all the live-long day, especially in the second half, is beyond me).
Third, and most importantly, they have Andre Johnson. We have Ted Fucking Ginn Jr. While it was awesome to see the Fins breakout the Wildcat in flea-flicker form (which led to that 53-yard TD to Cobbs) and score a TD for the 6th time utilizing it, we're going to need a little bit more to close games out. Simply put, this game just reminded us --again -- that we're missing that big-play receiver to rip it up alongside Ronnie Brown. Yes, the Dolphins put points on the board. But they were a pitiful 2-for-10 on third down conversions, while Johnson made the big catch at the most crucial moments for the Texans all day long (except for that one fumble, but fuck you, you nit-picking dickbag. I'm trying to make a point here). I'm still up for going after this guy. We need to. Until then, we're stuck with Ginn. And for the record, he caught one pass. Then ran backwards as if the DB was chasing him with a meat cleaver. That's one catch, for minus-one yard.
Also, only 11 carries for Ronnie? That's a sure-fire way to get your ass handed to you real quick like.
So, we failed to make it to .500, and we're 0-4 against the Texans. Our weaknesses have been exposed -- again. But these are things that can be fixed, so all is not lost. Plus, we have Cam Cameron and the Ravens coming to pay us a visit this Sunday. That should be enough to get us going again.
For now, we're just going to have to go about our week simmering in this awful bitterness and wondering "what-if."