Relationships are hard.
This is a lesson that I’ve learned over and over and over
again in the past four years or so. I’ve
seen some end and some flourish. At the
crux of almost all of them is a focal point that relationships that succeed require
a lot of work, and not just work, most have factors at play beyond just
effort.
I’ve lost some relationships because I haven’t been willing
to put in the work, I’ve lost others because they weren’t willing to put in the
work. I’ve lost more still to distance,
some to lack of interest in maintaining one, and a few to simply the fact that
I have nothing in common with the other person involved.
All in all, I’ve found over this time frame that
relationships are worth it. They are
worth the pain that they inevitably bring, they are worth the time sacrificed
to cultivate them, they are worth the stress and the sorrow. The vast majority of relationships in my life
I value I’ve started and built in the last four years. This was an intentional step, because a
failed marriage in 2014 helped me see how much I wanted to have good
relationships, and also how much they can’t just happen by accident. Since that time, I’ve lost some of my oldest relationships
as well, because when I finally objectively looked at them, I realized many
weren’t good for either party.
Today, I’m writing not a blog, but a break-up letter. I’ve found a relationship that has been
poison for me. Honestly, I’ve known
about it for a while, but I was so committed, I couldn’t let it go. Outside of family, it’s the relationship I’ve
held the longest in my entire life, but it’s time to say goodbye. It’s Dear John time. I’m sorry it had to go this way, it hurts me
deeply, but it’s for the best.
Miami Dolphins, I quit you.
For many of my friends, that past sentence may take a minute
to absorb. It’s shocking, stunning, and
unfathomable to many I’m guessing. I
have had people approach me in public places and say hello after a decade or
more of not seeing each other. I don’t
really look the same, but they recognize me from a distance because of my
Dolphins garb. It’s a rare site in north
Idaho, and anyone who’s known me a long time, expects me to be in it
frequently.
For those that don’t know the history of my relationship
with the Dolphins, I’ll create the back story a bit. I was born in Miami and lived there for the
first four years of my life. My family
packed up their bags and moved to north Idaho in 1990, I was four years
old. At the time we moved, I didn’t know
what the Miami Dolphins were. I didn’t
care about sports at all until around my twelfth birthday. I’m from there, but that’s not the reason I’ve
always been a fan.
As a young child, I was not excited to move from Miami to
Coeur d’Alene in the slightest. I
remember very little of living there, but among the memories I’ve retained, one
is vivid. It’s when my parents told me
that we were going to be moving to Idaho, and I replied “I don’t want to live
in Idaho, there’s nothing to do there.” From
that moment on, being from Florida became important to me. I loved Florida, and four year old Taylor was
hell bent on making that chunk of his life a cornerstone of his identity.
A few years later, I was in Cascade, Idaho, celebrating
Thanksgiving with my family. We had
stayed through the weekend and the family was watching football on TV. My Uncle Les was captivated by a game on the television,
cheering on his beloved San Francisco 49ers against a team called the Miami
Dolphins. As far as I can remember, that
was the first time I learned that such a thing existed. Young Taylor immediately fell head over heels
in love with the Dolphins. I was at that
absolutely obsessed with aquatic life.
Sharks, whale, dolphins, etc.
They, along with Legos, were the interests I defined my life by. So to find out that there was a team from my
identity-bestowing city of Miami, named after the oceanic idols in my prepubescent
life, I was hooked.
I ran to my factoid books that I would read obsessively, and
scurried to the section listing off the Super Bowl champions, and quickly
learned that Miami was the first team to play in three consecutive Super Bowls,
and the only team to win one following an undefeated season. I was quick to let Uncle Les know about both,
and inform him of his team’s inferiority. I spent the remainder of that game cheering on
my beloved Dolphins. I don’t know if
they won, it didn’t even understand the game.
I was a committed Dolphins fan about six years before I ever actually
cared about football. I would let my
friends know that Dan Marino was the greatest unabashedly before I ever even
learned the name John Elway, I was livid when the kids in my neighborhood
started to praise the name of some schmuck named Brett Favre (and I’m still
right, Marino was better). I didn’t
really understand what they did, but they were mine.
And that was about as good as things ever got. Dan Marino retired about two years into my
football following life. As soon as I
was actually interested in following the sport, the Dolphins almost immediately
stopping giving me a reason to be interested in following. I’m a blindly loyal person in many ways
though, I can handle the losing, I really can.
The Dolphins were really the only sports team in Miami when we moved, I
didn’t latch on to any others. I’m an A’s
fan, and the losing doesn’t bother me a bit.
It’s just part of being loyal.
Other things started to wear on me though. Geographic separation being chief among
them. Long distance relationships are
hard. That is true for almost anyone,
but it’s harder when television access is the only way to build your
relationship, as it was for me and the Dolphins. In the pre-Sunday Ticket days (dark days
indeed), I was dependent on Miami games being aired in my area on either them
being decent (earning Sunday or Monday night games), or them playing the local
teams (Seattle or Denver) to get on TV.
Generally, three times a year was the maximum I’d get to watch
them. It’s hard to be passionate about a
sport, and almost never get the chance to watch your favorite team. Taylor’s loyalty was wavering though. Go Phins.
Fast forward twelve years.
I’m married, a college graduate, and for the first time, Sunday Ticket
enters my life. The geographic distance
no longer has to interfere with the quality time I can give my beloved
Dolphins. What became a real issue
between us at this time, was that they were dreadfully boring. The annual expectation was 6-8 wins. Never bad enough that you could enjoy
watching great players go off against us, but never good enough to actually
generate any belief that a team could be something special. Never bad enough that we’d be drafting high,
in an obvious rebuilding mode, hoping for something better in a few years, but
constantly looking for the “guy” in free agency to get us over the hump to 9-7,
and still nowhere near a championship. This
wore on me greatly. It’s one thing to
always be bad, it’s another to routinely leave fans with no hope of being
better later. That was the rut I was
in.
Still, it was survivable.
I hated that we didn’t have any exciting players, that wins were always
21-17, and shootouts never turned up, and shut outs weren’t an option either. Mediocre across the board isn’t a ton of fun
to watch. One thing that adult Taylor
did not share in the least bit with child Taylor is that adult Taylor truly and
passionately loves the sport of football.
If Miami couldn’t give me good football, I didn’t have to stop cheering
for them, but I could choose to stop watching them. I’ll come back when it’s good, in the
meantime, I have Red Zone, and Packers/Cowboys game on channel 710. Miami understands, the local fans don’t come
to the games either.
Of course, that became another point of division. I’m a fan that longs and strives to be all
in. I’m a die hard. Among my favorite things about all sports is
the community that comes with them. The
unique fan culture that breeds and grows among groups of like-minded followers
is what long ago caused me to favor college football over the NFL. Miami has none of it. The city is infamous for shallow fandom. If you don’t win, we’ll go to the beach. If you’re 6-6, the stadium is half
empty. They don’t care. That is not a fan culture that matched well
with me. The relationship is getting
rocky.
Of course, the fact that the local fan community where the
team plays is also largely a nonfactor, because I’m 3000 miles away. They are literally the team in pro sports
furthest away from me in the United States.
The community that makes me love sports so much isn’t even an option for
me, even if they’re winning, and that’s a problem for me. In my entire life, I’ve met fewer than ten
other Dolphins fans, I don’t just suffer, I suffer alone. I’m also a trash talker by nature. I can find fun in fandom, by being in a
community with my rivals, and exchanging hatred too, but alas, also not an
option. Buffalo, New York, New England,
those are the rivals, and their fans aren’t really around here either. I know two Patriots fans, one really prefers
hockey, the other soccer. They both have
no real reason for cheering the team, and are kind of just bandwagon folk. That’s fun either. The relationship isn’t over yet, but I’ve
been reviewing my options.
Being a fan has gotten expensive now. I’ve been through a divorce I didn’t see
coming, I’m stuck in a house I can’t pay for.
The date is September 27, 2015 and the Dolphins are hosting the Buffalo
Bills. They enter the game 1-1 and
their season has been hyped as one for a breakout. Some big offseason acquisitions and the
development of quarterback Ryan Tannehill has fans pining for a real playoff
run. The Bills look to be going the
other way. This is the back on track
game, we’re at home, we’re loaded with potential, and we’re going to start
winning after fifteen years. I settle in
to watch the game that I’m paying Directv money I don’t have to view, and I don’t
care, this year it pays off.
Three hour late, Buffalo 41, Miami 14. Final.
I turn the game off at halftime and get an early start on some Christmas
preparations.
Miami and I are now separated, but now actively looking to
hire a divorce lawyer. I have decided
that I can no longer handle being a Dolphins fan, but my heart is not ready to
move on. I’m hurting, and I’m
trapped. My life is rife with
instability, I can’t quit them, but for the first time I acknowledge that I
should.
Two more years have passed, an actual playoff appearance
occurred, and while my passion isn’t what it used to be, I’ve come to terms
that I need to make this marriage one where we “stay together for the kids.” I’m not expecting much from Miami, this
season, or really much in the future, but I’m going to make it work. Miami has one thing going for it, my boy, my
all time favorite Boise State Bronco (a loyalty that is not on the rocks) Jay
Ajayi has landed on the Dolphins roster.
He’s not only there, he’s the cornerstone of the offense, toting the
rock frequently to bleed the clock and limit the mistakes the defense and
subpar quarterbacks can make. He’s not
Barry Sanders, but I love him, and he’s a legitimately exciting player to
watch. After two plus years of being
non-committal on Miami, I pull the trigger and renew financial investments in
my team. On Wednesday, October 4th,
2017, I order a new jersey for my champion Jay Ajayi, I’m ready to back the
Phish full steam.
October 31, 2017, I awake to get ready to work the same as
every morning, alarm blaring at 7 AM. As
I always do, because I’m sports obsessive, I check ESPN for breaking news to
start my morning. I’m greeted with the
news that the Miami Dolphins have traded Running Back Jay Ajayi to the
Philadelphia Eagles for a 4th round draft pick.
And then I realize that despite my commitment to the
Dolphins that they aren’t committed to me.
I had lived in denial that teams aren’t loyal to players, and that any
loyalty based on a player is a doomed iceberg to be floating on. Throughout the day, rumors swirl that they
are looking to trade Jarvis Landry as well (my second favorite player on the
offense), they don’t pull the trigger, but it’s abundantly clear to me that our
relationship isn’t going to work. I’ve
tried to make it work, but it takes two for a relationship to succeed, and we
don’t have that.
I’ve always been afraid to move away from Miami as my
team. I feel like I’ve made a commitment
to them. I don’t break commitments. I take a long, hard look at my decisions
before I make them, and even if I make a bad one, I try to stick with it and
accept the consequences. I didn’t
willing end my marriage, I didn’t short sell my house when it made all the
sense in the world to do so, I haven’t given up any of my pets even though they
make finding housing a nightmare on a consistent basis. But I’ve realized how foolish it is to take
that stance with my sports teams.
I didn’t make a vow with the Dolphins, I’m not married, and
what’s more is that they don’t actually rely on me at all. Staying with them doesn’t help them, it only
hurts me. We’re not a good fit. Their fans don’t fit me, their team doesn’t
fit me, their location, despite the arguments of a four year old me, doesn’t
fit me. We’re not meant to be
together.
Three weeks ago, I went and spent some time in Oakland with
friends and family. We soaked in a
plethora of sports events while there, the capstone of which was a jaunt in the
Black Hole at a Raiders game. Those
people fit me. They are loyal. They have been bad just as long as Miami has,
and they are loyal. The team left for
twenty years, came back, and are leaving again, but they remain loyal. They scream for four quarters, they hate the
other team and let them know it. The
team stinks, and that’s okay. They are
close enough (and still will be after the move) that they won’t require a
miracle to watch, or a loan to see in person.
I didn’t go thinking my fandom was for sale, three weeks after coming
back, I realized that fandom should need to be bought, it should simply be
desired.
It’s been a long time since I’ve desired my Dolphins. It’s time to stop making my fandom a chore,
and look for happiness in it. I’m doing
that now. Miami, it’s not me, and it’s
not you, it’s both of us. You’ll always
have a place in my heart, but it’s no longer going to be first place. It’s bittersweet, it hurts, but it’s time. We are through, but I hope you find success
without me.
My heart has a new home in Raider Nation. Just win, baby.
