We hate to say it, but our expectations for the Dolphins' Sunday visit to Minnesota are hovering somewhere around "fainting junior high choir boy."
Oh, sure, they'll manage to open up a few lanes and move the chains, but, under the spell of a powerful opponent, they'll probably and eventually plunge face-first into the stage in front of everyone.
We hope to be wrong about this, of course. And we feel pretty certain that Mike Nolan's defense can cause a few problems for the ol' Gunslinger Brett Favre, who's so immoble now the Vikings are probably tempted to cart him around to different parts of the field, snapping his picture like the inanimate Travelocity garden gnome.
We'll get to the pro-Dolphins parts later. For now, the reality: the Dolphins have looked a bit...unsteady, and lest we all forget, Minnesota was one bad decision or two away from the Super Bowl.
Here's what worries:
1. The Metrodome: Say what you will about intangibles like environment, the Vikings were a perfect 9-0 at home last year. The Dolphins were 3-5 on the road. An unsteady junior quarterback, in a notoriously riotous environment? Hold us.
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2. The Vikings defense. Or, alternately, the most anemic Dolphins offense since ever. Last week, Minnesota limited the Saints to just two scoring drives -- and the Saints have Drew Brees. The Dolphins, of course, are less vertical and more about the run, but stopping the run is the Vikings's actual specialty. Then there's linebacker E.J. Henderson, back from last year's broken leg (DO NOT CLICK ON THAT), to take away short routes in the middle. The safeties are the most succeptible, but both times Chad Henne looked to go long last week, his protection broke down.
Your 2010 Dolphins offense: so far, akin to toddler boxing. Not that we've tried that.
3. Greg Camarillo. Oh, sure, he didn't play that much last week against the Saints. But he was good, and the Dolphins traded him away. He will now come back to murder them with a 39-catch performance for 364 yards and 11 touchdowns. Because we're Miami, and that's what happens. [Somewhere in Massechusetts, Wes Welker laughs last.]
