We’re only one week in, and already Mike McDaniel’s job security is under fire. He entered the season pegged by oddsmakers as the coach most likely to be the first fired in 2025, and Miami’s 33-8 collapse against the Colts only amplified the noise. McDaniel has faced this chatter before. Back in April, he brushed it off, saying pressure is simply part of the job. But pressure isn’t the same as collapse, and that’s what Sunday looked like.

The loss dredged up last year’s frustrations all over again, when Miami stumbled to an 8-9 finish and many expected sweeping changes. Owner Stephen Ross resisted at the time, keeping both McDaniel and GM Chris Grier. But his warning in January couldn’t have been clearer: “I believe in the value of stability.”

Fast forward to now, and patience feels like a luxury the Dolphins no longer have. McDaniel’s promise of offensive creativity is being swallowed by the same old mistakes. And the harshest spotlight? It’s squarely on Tua Tagovailoa. Dan Graziano of ESPN framed it best: “Again, I didn’t enter the season expecting Miami to be one of the NFL’s worst teams. But a lot of people did, and I’ve certainly been wrong before. It’s possible the defense never gets fully healthy and looks this vulnerable all season.”

If Week 1 was any indication, the worst fears about this roster aren’t hypothetical anymore. Tagovailoa unraveled in real time: 114 yards, two picks, a lost fumble, and just a 51.7 passer rating. The miscues were brutal. “It’s possible Tagovailoa keeps struggling, though he has generally played well under Mike McDaniel when healthy.” An overthrow to Tyreek Hill ended in Camryn Bynum’s hands. A third-down throw across the middle was eaten up by rookie Laiatu Latu.

And before that sequence, he’d already coughed up the ball on a strip sack by Kenny Moore—with none other than ex-Dolphin Xavien Howard scooping it up. Fourteen Indianapolis points came directly from those mistakes. The deeper problem is protection. Tagovailoa took three sacks, each one a reminder of his fragility. Miami can’t afford to watch its quarterback hit the turf every week. Not with his concussion history.

And as Graziano added, “This program might never rediscover the promise it showed in 2022 and 2023, when the Dolphins made the playoffs in McDaniel’s first two seasons.” That reality feeds into the franchise’s biggest question: how tied are they to Tagovailoa financially? On paper, it looks ironclad. Over the Cap breaks it down—more than $104 million guaranteed between 2025 and 2026. Cut him this year and you’re staring at $137.6 million in dead cap. Next year? $79.2 million. Painful either way.

But after 2026, those numbers collapse, giving Miami a potential off-ramp even though he’s technically under contract through 2028. That’s why Graziano’s warning carried extra sting: “It’s important to note that Tagovailoa has $54 million in fully guaranteed money in 2026 and will almost certainly still be the Dolphins’ starter at least through that season (if healthy). But if this season bottoms out and the Dolphins are picking at or near the top of what’s thought to be a QB-rich draft, it’s not a huge leap to expect them to think about the future at that position.” Ugly? That doesn’t even cover it. Miami hasn’t won a playoff game under Tua Tagovailoa, and Hill’s sideline tantrums over the last two years tell you exactly how much frustration has boiled over.

Hill didn’t leave Kansas City to spend his prime years watching an offense sputter in neutral. At first, it felt like Miami had its guy. But the more Sundays like this pile up, the more it looks like they might need to rip off the Band-Aid. If Tagovailoa doesn’t elevate, this season could push the Dolphins into making a ruthless choice. Move on before he drags McDaniel down with him.

Tua Tagovailoa and the missing rhythm

Tua Tagovailoa and Tyreek Hill usually move like a well-rehearsed duet. But Sunday? The harmony was gone. Hill’s missed preseason reps weren’t the excuse, at least not to Tua. He pointed straight at the offense itself: out of rhythm, out of sync. “Once you get into that groove … that’s when things start happening for us. But we couldn’t find it today,” he admitted.

Hill’s history with words hasn’t exactly soothed things, either. His “I’m out, bro” outburst after last year’s Week 18 collapse wasn’t just frustration. It echoed through the building. He’s since apologized, even admitting his kids found the clip on YouTube and threw it back at his face. But damage has a way of lingering. Stripped of his captaincy this season, Hill learned that in Miami, your voice carries weight even when your feet are the fastest in football. He says he needs those “valuable reps with Tua,” but when the connection sputters as it did on Sunday, the apology feels like words chasing shadows.

And then there’s the body blows. Three sacks later, and every fan held their breath the way they always do with Tua—because in Miami, every hit feels like rolling dice with his health. He brushed it off afterward, saying he felt “great” and promising excitement for how the team responds against New England in Week 2. Maybe that’s optimism, maybe it’s a survival instinct. Either way, the Dolphins are stuck in this uncomfortable tension. A quarterback who insists the reflection begins with him and a star receiver fighting to rewrite his own narrative.