The Indian Burial Ground Curse Strikes Again: Jaelan Phillips is OUT for The Rest of The Year
For the love of God, please, Stephen Ross, move the stadium off the Indian burial ground. We are cursed—there’s no other way around it. Since the Dolphins built Hard Rock Stadium on this site, it’s been nothing but pain and misery. I don’t know how many more times I have to say this. I don’t care if people think I’m crazy; the curse is real. Until the Dolphins move their stadium, the team will remain cursed.
The losses just keep piling up for Miami. Some are still lingering from last year—Bradley Chubb still hasn’t returned from his ACL injury. During training camp, it was Odell Beckham Jr. And by week two, it was Tua Tagovailoa going down. Then, in week three, we lost all-pro left tackle Terron Armstead, and now, in week four, it’s Jaelan Phillips. This leaves Miami without their top two pass rushers. This team is cooked. Any slim chance of hope that anyone had for this season has just died. This is more than just adversity; it feels like a death sentence. The Dolphins are more fucked than the Menendez brothers.
I hate it here, man. I’m fighting for my fucking life right now. I’m holding on with everything I’ve got, but it’s not enough. This team has left me no choice but to let go.
Every week, it feels like I’m watching a horror movie where I already know the ending, and it’s never a happy one. I keep telling myself it can’t get worse, but it does. The injuries have piled up, leaving fans to wonder how this team can possibly turn it around. Each game, I watch with a mix of hope and dread, knowing that any moment, the floor could fall out beneath me once again. The excitement I once felt has been replaced by death. I keep telling myself, “Maybe next year will be our year.”
I want to believe it; I really do. But after all this heartbreak, it’s hard to muster that kind of faith. So, for now, I’ll try to keep my head up, but deep down, I know that until that stadium is moved from this cursed ground, the pain will continue. I’m sorry, Miami, but maybe next year is truly our year.