The Miami Dolphins know how to endure hardship. Maybe not to the degree of what the Cleveland Browns faithful have been through, but enough to start feeling the pain of an ownership that doesn't care.
There was a time when that wasn't the case. It wasn't during Don Shula's seasons, or even Bill Parcells' hapless attempt to turn the franchise around. It actually wasn't that long ago. The years, however, have built up, and now, fans are demanding change more than they ever have before.
At the end of their proverbial pitchfork isn't Chris Grier or Mike McDaniel, it's an owner who is deaf to their wants and needs, despite the loud booming messages they are sending him. Stephen Ross doesn't seem to care about the fanbase.
Miami Dolphins fans are no longer wishing Stephen Ross would sell the team; they are begging him to
It used to be easy to navigate the Dolphins' social media channels or the many forums that once dotted the internet. Most of those forum outlets are gone; toxicity ruined them—Miami fans, without an outlet to voice their frustrations to ownership, turned on each other.
Take a trip down Dolphins "X" or climb aboard a Facebook group, and it gets worse.
Ross will never change the uniform despite fans' outrage over the current logo, even though it carries a weight of pure losing along with it. That's okay, an owner shouldn't just cave to that kind of demand. Others, however, are louder.
Forget about Chris Grier; he has made his bed, and nothing he does now will have fans filling out the season ticket wait list information. Nor will Mike McDaniel miraculously turn the franchise around. Flying messages to Ross over the Hard Rock Stadium does nothing, because he is not at the stadium when they occur.
Fans are now roasting the owner for arriving on the field before the end of a game, only to laugh hysterically at him walking back off after another late-second loss.
The fans that once supported him through most of the "Bullygate" scandal, and even "Tampergate," are now finding it gratifying to watch the owner squirm after every single loss.
Dolphins fans have never rooted against their team, but the toxicity is such that many hope that each week's loss will bring inevitable change. However, Ross can't guarantee that any more than he can guarantee the expensive lounge seats on the 50-yard line of Hard Rock Stadium are filled each week.
That, too, has become an issue. Ross sees the dollar signs, and no one is buying into his F1 races or tennis events. They don't want gondolas any more than they want the stadium tailgating to move half a mile down the road, so he can build more structures to support these events.
Ross once made it clear that all he wanted was to field a winning franchise; all he has done since 2009 is build a perennial loser. The Dolphins haven't won a playoff game in 25 years. Ross has no idea what that feels like, and neither do most of the younger fans.
Miami fans are in it for themselves now. They cheer because they run the colors through their veins, but they are no longer subtle in voicing their hatred toward the owner. Frustration was what fans felt under Wayne Huizenga.
Mr. H., as he was called, at least had a pulse when it came to the fans. He interacted with them on the sidelines before games, shook their hands, thanked them for being fans, and I recall him even asking long ago, "What can I do to make this better?" referring to the stadium.
That's all gone now. Ross doesn't entertain the thoughts of his fans; he only entertains the money he can make off of them. For so long, he was willing to spend whatever it took to field a winning team, but all the money in the world can't buy competence in the people spending it.
The only thing Dolphins fans have left to celebrate is the weekly admission that "Hey, at least we don't root for the Jets."