The Dolphins Still Wear Teal Pants

I am elated to again be blessed with the privilege of posting about our effeminately named, teal-pantsed rivals from South Florida as the Dolphins are officially eliminated from the NFL playoffs, just like they have been annually since 1973, the year of Roe v. Wade.  I find that fitting because most of their recent seasons have effectively been abortions, though some would be more aptly described as miscarriages, and a few even appeared to have emerged from the other end, if you know what I mean.  Like poo. 

Because my parents loved me enough to resist the urge to kill me in the womb, I have been afforded the opportunity to live and in turn become familiar with the behavior of those dozens of Phins Phans.  I know that they are quick to respond to such derogatory commentary about their team with a reflexive and tired proclamation that they won two Super Bowls when the Beatles' separation was still fresh, while the Bills' trophy case remains woefully void of Lombardis.  How hurtful.  :(

But I come in peace, Miamians.  I'm just trying to help you decipher what is causing such terrible and embarrassing football to be displayed so regularly down there.  Let's go over the possibilities together and figure this out once and for all.  Could the problem be that Tua is usually more hurt than William and also not particularly good on the rare occasion that he is healthy?  That was a William Hurt reference for you there.  I believe he was an actor, but I don't think I've seen any of his movies.  My sources are indicating that he was nominated for an Oscar for a film called Kiss of the Spider Woman.  Ugh, now I have to rename the steamy fan fiction I'm writing about a female Spiderman having sensual, high-flying adventures.  The villain is named Knobgoblin.

But putting aside erotic Spiderman stories that nobody will read and William Hurt jokes that nobody will like, Tua very well might be the problem with the Dolphins.  Alternatively, could their struggles be caused by the bad-itude of a certain yappy, violent, illiterate, munchkin receiver who just publicly declared that he wants to leave the team?  Sure, that could be it.  And since he literally should be in jail for beating up multiple women, maybe he'll get his wish and have an opportunity to join Paul Crewe and the Mean Machine next season.

Or maybe it all comes from the top?  The Dolphins coaches and owners are weak and arrogant and frankly weird.  Seriously, have you ever seen what Mike McDaniel looks like?  If not, allow me to paint a picture: imagine, if you can, that Harry Potter and Didi Pickles spawned a handicapped son who is passionate about waving at cars from the foot of his driveway in his pajamas and also about coaching professional football, in that order of priority.  That's Mike, and needless to say, Mike is definitely a potential explanation for the franchise's perpetual incompetence and for the traffic issues in his neighborhood.  

Seriously, the guy hasn't won a game that was played in weather below 40 degrees since he pompously strutted around practice in a "I Wish It Were Colder" t-shirt a couple Januarys ago in preparation to come to frigid Buffalo for a divisional round game.  We fanny-slapped those sunshine boys on national television and sent them back to the equator to forage for snakes and coconuts or whatever they do down there until September.  And I wasn't fibbing about the minority owners: we're talking about individuals like Gloria Estefan, Marc Anthony, Venus and Serena Williams, and Fergie.  Weak, arrogant, and frankly weird.  I have no comment on the potential second application of the term "minority" in this context.

In reality, all of these factors likely play a role in the Dolphins' perennial failures, and I didn't even mention the fact that they don't have a legitimate fanbase, outside of Pitbull and Jennifer Lopez, who are also weak, arrogant, and frankly weird.  But all of that aside, in my soul, I am convinced that there is a more tactile, or perhaps textile explanation.  The team utterly refuses to stop wearing those damned teal pants.  Men cannot be expected to win a brutal, gritty, primal sporting event while they are dolled up in trousers that conjure images of the Little Mermaid.

Now there's an idea - "Dolphins" is already a tremendously feminine name, as it is the favorite animal of many a little girl, so why not lean into that and rebrand as the "Miami Mermaids" to attract some new fans for once, even if most of said fans wind up being second graders and/or proud and active members of the South Beach homosexual community.  After all, every holiday season when "Deck the Halls" is on the radio a billion times, a billion times I find myself thinking about the Dolphins and their teal pants when I hear the line,

"Don we now our gay apparel."

Again, I'm just trying to help turn the team around and there are no bad ideas while brainstorming.  Except for federally mandating absolute, unquestioned access to abortions.  That was a bad idea.  I'm joking, I think, or whatever, I don't know. Go Bills.