… Dungy, that is:
You don’t care about the Browns. I know that. You’re a former Steeler, after all. You had a job to do last night, and that was to protect your best players from getting hurt and missing their next game two weeks forward. Fine.
The players you sent out there did try. They did play hard, if not for you, then for themselves and their team. You, Mr. Dungy, did not put forth a professional effort. It was all too clear that you did not act as if winning was even on your list of priorities. Padding individual stats? Check. Getting your star QB some practice calling in plays? Check. Evaluating your backups in game conditions? Check.
But you conceded this game before it was over. Your Colts, facing fourth-and-11 with your backup QB, snapped the ball rather than wait one more second, when the two-minute warning would have given the offense time to catch their breath and prepare for what turned out to be their final play.
Then, you kept a timeout in your pocket rather than force the Titans to run a fourth-down play with over 30 seconds to go.
You were fine with losing. You were ready to lose. You were delighted to chat with your counterpart at midfield after your decisions greased his entry into the playoffs. I’m sure he was delighted with you too.
But the football gods will get you. They ought to, anyway. For one thing, your team was exposed as pitifully thin at QB. But more importantly, you let up. You let your big-picture vision and side goals obscure the game in front of your face. You did not coach hard. You did not coach to win.
I know you’re a mature man who’s accomplished and endured more than most, and you’re entitled to your decisions. But they will come back to bite you. I hope.
Surely some will say that I’m just a bitter Browns fan, and my team blew its chance by losing any of those six games. True, but the predicament I found myself in last night, rooting for a team whose coach plainly didn’t care to win (the division rival Titans earned a lower draft pick, after all), simply motivates me to point out a flagrant violation of one of the core elements that makes football particularly appealing in the first place. It is, or should be, an earnest, no-nonsense contest between two teams whose primary motive is to win the game.
Anything less is an affront to the sport. And bad karma.
The league’s competition committee could remedy this going forward by establishing some criteria for teams whose late-season games are irrelevant to their playoff destinies. Such teams would remain free to rest and protect uninjured starters. But the benefits of doing so would be offset by the forfeiture of late-round draft picks.
After all, the draft is meant to replenish rosters subject to the ravages of full NFL seasons. If a team backs out of such combat and relies excessively on reserves to the detriment of fans and the fundamental basis of the sport itself, it obviously has less need to bring in new players.
