Worst to First: the Unexpected Revival of the Miami Dolphins

The Miami Dolphins are in the playoffs for the first time since I was a sophomore in high school. From then until now, that's a driver's test; prom; graduation; buying a car; finding oneself; re-inventing oneself; going to college, switching majors; watching seasons 1-3 of Arrested Development; earning a Bachelor's degree; teaching college. That's not quite a lifetime, but it is a youth. My adolescence, young adulthood, and then full-blown adulthood have been spent waiting for my hometown team to make the playoffs again. It's astonishing to quantify it that way, really taking inventory of all the lost time. Sixteen to twenty-four -- this is generally considered to be life's best years. And, somehow, the Dolphins were not a part of my best years at all. This is made even more extraordinary as it seems like even the most hopeless and woebegone teams accidentally make the playoffs from time to time. I grew up, but the Dolphins remained stagnant. And even that's being kind; to be more accurate, they regressed. I improved as a person during this time span -- becoming smarter, more experienced, more worldly -- but the Dolphins became smaller, slower, less talented. I was going one way, they were going the other. They won a single, solitary game last season, and that was only because we managed to be slightly less incompetent than the opposition on that given day. We had become inconceivably bad for an immeasurable amount of time.

And this is why I'm so happy now.

The Miami Dolphins ended the season at 11-5, won the AFC East division, and are hosting a playoff game against the Baltimore Ravens this Sunday. This is our first postseason appearance since 2002.

It's a euphoric happiness, bordering on lightheaded giddiness. I almost want to squeal -- not so much like a pig, maybe more like a girl. There's less reason to brood; things are well. It's not that all of my other worries and concerns are forgotten, they've just been put off for a later time. I feel great and I am thankful.

There are a lot of contributing factors to this season's turnaround:

On the defensive line, Nose Tackle Jason Ferguson has provided everything we needed from him: size, strength, and immobility. Rookies bookends Kendall Langford and Philip Merling look like the future. Randy Starks has been a plesant free agent surprise.

In the middle of the field, Matt Roth has been a pleasant surprise switching from an overmatched Defensive End to a suddenly-solid Outside Linebacker. Joey Porter has been a maniac all season; if DeMarcus Ware and James Harrison didn't exist, he would be the NFL's Defensive Player of the Year. Channing Crowder has been adaquete; he doesn't create any game-changing plays and he often takes the wrong angle on running plays, but I sense that his leadership skills and locker room presence are invalauble to the well being of this team.

In our secondary, Will Allen and Andre Goodman have absolutely blanketed the field, covering and swatting and batting and intercepting anything their general vicinity. Renaldo Hill still has hands of stone and couldn't catch a cold, but he's a very cerebral player, always aware of everything that's going on around him. And I don't even have to look up the stats since I'm sure Yeremiah Bell still leads the team in tackles. Going into the season, most agreed that this was our absolute worst group. They looked clueless. But they managed to get their acts together, transforming not just into a good-enough unit but a formidable group of Defensive Backs.

On the offensive line, 1st overall pick Jake Long hasn't always been dominant, but he has been dependably steady. Justin Smiley was the perfect veteran anchor. Vernon Carey hasn't manhandled the opponent the way he could or should have, but he's proven to be a quality Right Tackle.

In our backfield, Ronnie Brown and Ricky Williams are arguably the best Running Back duos in the entire league. They should have ended the season with more yards and touchdowns, but their combination of size, speed, and strength are nearly unmatched.

Among our Wide Receivers, they haven't been All-World, but they've been boundlessly better than anyone could have imagined. Ted Ginn Jr., with all of that blinding foot speed, is starting to catch on. Before getting hurt, Greg Camarillo had been an inspiration. He has almost no phyiscal talent to speak of, yet gets by on sheer will. Davone Bess has been an absolute revelation -- sure hands, quick feet, expert route-running. We're very lucky to have him. Even Brandon London, he of the long arms and long legs, looks like a future contributor.

Between our Tight Ends, Anthony Fasano and David Martin, we have two big, strong, athletic targets. They can block, run, attributes -- you can often find at least two of these attributes in a tight end, but rarely all three.

And under center, of course, is Chad Pennington. He's been the best quarterback in Miami since Dan Marino...and Marino retired a long decade ago. Getting over his oft-reported lack of arm strength, he's otherwise flawless. Pin-point accuracy, protects the ball, high level of awareness, strong leadership abilities, good teammate -- just about flawless.

And all of this excitement over tomorrow's game is yet another reminder, in a long list of similar reminders, of a particularly interesting facet of my personality: deep down, I'm kind of a Jock-Bro. Now, I don't maintain all of the typical character traits; I don't wear backwards baseball caps, I don't lift weights and drink protein shakes, I don't pay classmates to do my homework, I don't make a habit of using the synonyms "brew" for beer or "bros" for friends, and I don't date-rape people. But all of that notwithstanding, I love sports. It's one of my favorite things. I enjoy watching them and playing them. All off the top of my head, I know who won the the 1997 NCAA Men's Basketball championship (Arizona), what school Ki-Jana Carter attended (Penn State), the 7th leading scorer in NBA history (Hakeem Olajuwon), and Rick Mirer's Seattle Seahawks jersey number (#3). Organized competition, to me, serves as one of the main objectives of life. Everything always boils down to winning and losing. Beating my peers -- and not just beating, but publically and thouroughly shaming them -- is a prevailing reason I get up in the morning, and for those who don't share that sentiment, I wonder exactly what motivates them to even bother with anything.

So obviously, I have some of that Jock-Bro disposition in me. I have the potential. Maybe in another lifetime, or maybe even in this lifetime, if a few things had developed differently. If I didn't learn to love reading so much, if I were less analytical and more instinctual, or if I would've grown a little taller, maybe I would be a completely different person today. I don't think I would actually be a professional athlete (as that would be a stretch for even the most active imagination), but who knows, it's within the realm of possibility that I could've turned out to be someone who likes tailgating, pep rallies, and Hollister. One of those people. Y'know, unlikeable.

Let's go Dolphins.