Oh, Miami

When Bill Parcells took over as executive VP of football operations of the long-suffering Miami Dolphins late last season, expectations were, quite rightly, kept as low as possible. Whether or not he retained then coach Cam Cameron on the back of a 1-15 season, it was clear that there could be no quick turnaround for the hapless, hopeless Phins - particularly in a campaign where only Brian Billick's conservative playcalling stopped us becoming the first team ever to go 0-16. And so throughout the last nine months the words 'transitional season', 'nothing to lose' and 'blood the youngsters' have essentially become the team mottos down in South Florida.

One description that wasn't supposed to apply, however, was 'laughing stock'.

But that's where Miami is now, after a capitulation in the Arizona desert on Sunday that was arguably worse than anything Cam's young team served up last season. The 10-31 scoreline seriously flattered us; but it wasn't just the secondary's inability to follow assignments, read plays and, you know, tackle the opposition players than rankled most. Nor was it our frail, inexperienced wide receiving corps' pathetic attempts to get some separation and catch some balls. Nope, the worst failure in the abominable showing was the lack of professional pride on show: too many sloppy penalties, too many casual mistakes, too many moments when the players just didn't seem all that fussed.

Before he set foot in Miami I hated Parcells with relish, partly because of his connections to the Jets, Patriots and Cowboys – three teams I delight in seeing take a walloping – and partly because, quite simply, he always seemed such a sour, nasty football coach. Yet the latter is precisely the reason I begrudgingly welcomed him to Miami last December; because it had become clear that the franchise needed someone to take a deep bite into its soft, all-too-tender underbelly; someone who would make these players passionate, wiling and, yes, nasty.

We haven't seen any of that yet. 53 real dolphins would have been of more use on Sunday as Kurt Warner, allowed out of the retirement home for three hours, completed 55 of 55 passes for something like 17,000 yards and Anquan Boldin made it look as if he were playing in the park with a bunch of schoolkids. Actually, scrap that - even schoolkids occasionally get near the opposition when on defense.

Instead of being able to admire our determination where ability might be lacking, we're watching a team that appears desperately short of both – and is perhaps even worse than it was last season, what with Jason Taylor and Zach Thomas gone. And while its still way too early to pass judgment on the Parcells/Ireland/Sparano era, it's clear that expectations need to be taken down yet another notch, if that's even possible. This isn't going to be a transitional season; more like a transitional half-decade. And while that might be a tough thing to accept from fans wanting a quicker turnaround, it has to be that way; five coaches in five years and some terrible drafting from Randy Mueller tells its own story.

I'm still on board with the Trifecta. I'm just not sure I can watch them go about business for another 14 games. In fact, right now, I'll take 1-15 all over again...