Dolphins Overcome Falcons 27-23: Julio Jones Is an Alien
For much of the game yesterday, the Falcons bruised, battered and manhandled the Dolphins along the line of scrimmage, and there was the sense that this Dolphins game would end like so many others we've witnessed in the last decade or so: with a loud, wet fart heard for miles around as fans exited the stadium to yet another heart-breaking loss. But then Ryan Tannehill came on the field, tore off his uniform, and revealed that he, in fact, had extremely large and metallic balls.
After a missed Matt Bryant field goal that would have put the Falcons ahead by 6, Ryan Tannehill took the Dolphins down the field on a 13-play 75-yard drive that brought the Fins to the 1 yard line. At this point, Tannehill simply unsheathed his very large, gleaming white man lance and promptly stuck it into the Falcons with aggressive - yet sensitive - touch via a 1 yard touchdown pass to rookie TE Dion Sims. The Falcons graciously smiled, covered themselves up, sipped their Manhattan that had been sitting on the nightstand, and asked Tannehill for a cigarette. It was fucking beautiful, sexy and magnificent all at the same time. The kid lost his Statement Game Virginity for us and the entire NFL was there to see it. Miami was glowing.
Mind you, this was a game the Dolphins had NO BUSINESS winning as they were consistently beat across the line of scrimmage with a sock full of batteries. The time of possession was so lop-sided the Falcons had the ball for an additional quarter of play compared to the Dolphins. The Dolphins allowed five sacks of VANILLA BALLS TANNEHILL compared to our awesomely-nonexistent pressure on big boy Matt Ryan. Furthermore, the Dolphins play-calling was pretty looney as the Fins looked at all their run plays and said 'meh, fuuuuuggg it' despite having some good early success running the ball. Clearly, it became apparent to the Miami coaches that they better make some explosive plays in the air if they wanted to catch up to the Falcons considering Atlanta's novel game plan of sitting on the ball and crossing their arms with a smug face all game long.