Dolphins owner Stephen Ross flew by private helicopter to the team’s Davie headquarters late in the week, the showy transportation mode alone lending the trip an appearance of gravitas and urgency. The media quickly materialized, moths to bulb, looking for Major Change the way Catholics look for white smoke arising from the Sistine Chapel on papal election day.
Reporters perhaps anticipated a massive billow of aqua smoke to signal the dramatic dismissal of general manager Jeff Ireland, or maybe a more modest puff of orange smoke for the canning of offensive coordinator Mike Sherman.
Devout Dolfans awaited the word from afar, poised to celebrate by gathering on the Town Square, now known as Twitter.
Alas, it turned out the Davie compound has no smokestack and Ross, apparently, had no designs on Major Change. The closest thing to a sign from God was not smoke from on high, but a plume of dust from below riled up as Ross’ ’copter departed as stealthily as it had arrived.
Five consecutive seasons out of the NFL playoffs and back-to-back bad losses to blow the latest attempt evidently are not enough to rock the status quo in Dolphinville.
You’ve heard of, “If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it”?
The Dolphins either don’t think it’s broke, or are waiting for it to magically fix itself.
Meantime, Dolfans clamoring for change are disappointed thus far, patience ever thinning.
You know what’s weird, though?
After waiting 40 years for another Super Bowl championship, 29 years to get to another Super Bowl and 13 years just to win another playoff game, you’d think Dolfans — just by sheer practice — would lead the league in patience. Or, by now, in resignation.
Instead, like worshippers believing in a God unseen, Dolfans look for smoke, a signal, a sign, anything. Dolfans looks for reasons to still believe.Woody Hayes Jimbo Fisher Al Golden Teddy Bridgewater