Every so often, a sporting event gets us talking. And I mean everybody.
The Cardinals just played one of those games.
It featured elite buffoonery and mind-boggling mistakes. It featured a collapse so unlikely it had to be seen to be believed. Of the 815 losses in franchise history, this surely ranks among the most embarrassing. Especially when factoring in the low-quality opponent, the playoff expectations in Arizona and the must-win magnitude of Sunday’s game.
Talking points continue to spawn: Did Jonathan Gannon’s physical display with Emari Demercado cross the line? And what does it say about a head coach whose brand is built on sideline stoicism, a man who folds his arms and hides his eyes and never loses his cool? Does it mean he is suddenly fearing for his job?
Gannon apologized for the interaction during his Monday press conference, saying, “It’s not really who I am, who I want to be.”
The Demercado gaffe also continues to grow in scope. How could a team constructed on process-driven culture and hardcore professionals produce such a goofy moment? How could a young talent like Demercado act so flippant and immaturely on such a great play design, one that could’ve illuminated and celebrated his wealth of talent? Instead, it put pressure on the team to cut Demercado entirely, to hold him accountable, to send a message to everyone else in the locker room.
Next, Kyler Murray. He might’ve been shocked by the premature snap that struck him in the face. His head rocked backward as if he were the helpless recipient on Power Slap, the violent Dana White endeavor Murray chose to mimic after his touchdown run in the first half. So maybe our quarterback wasn’t thinking clearly.
But it looked for a moment like Murray made a diva business decision, choosing not to jump headfirst for a loose ball in a key situation.
Granted, Murray is not a physical specimen. He must be careful in how he exposes himself to the rolling thunder and extreme violence of his profession. But if teammates are thinking he left the dirty work to others on Sunday, like Cam Newton once did in a Super Bowl, it will show up on the field in the weeks ahead. And not in a good way.
And what does it say about Murray when the offensive coordinator won’t let him throw the ball on 3rd-and-8 on the final possession? Especially when the last play was run 12 seconds before the two-minute warning, gaining little clock advantage in the process?
It means we’re feeling the brunt of an inexperienced, ultra-conservative coaching staff. Or it says the team doesn’t trust Murray in big situations. Either way: Not good.
In defeat, the Cardinals lured in many national commentators and analysts who never utter a word about a game between Arizona and Tennessee. All of them couldn’t believe the debacle in the desert, and how an allegedly good football team could melt down in such dramatic fashion.
Local diehards felt something different. For us, this felt like a time machine to the dark ages, when the Cardinals were an NFL punchline, a non-serious franchise that mostly embarrassed the Valley, when few dared to wear a replica jersey out of potential embarrassment.
On Sunday, it felt like the football world found the Cardinals hilarious once again, in all the wrong ways. And that’s not the laugher game we were looking for.
Reach Bickley at dbickley@arizonasports.com. Listen to Bickley & Marotta weekdays from 6 a.m. – 10 a.m. on 98.7 FM Arizona’s Sports Station.