Cynicism is only helpful when it brings you toward realism. In the case of Indianapolis Colts quarterback Anthony Richardson, I have seen many thoughtful takes on a coach and a general manager, and a team’s responsibility toward a player, and the benefits of perhaps missing out on the playoffs so that he can develop, and the importance of stepping back and taking a broader look at the historical rawness of Richardson as a project. 

I have felt this way for so long, and the kindest part of my heart still does. Richardson is sometimes amazing. Sometimes, his receivers drop balls that we don’t talk a great deal about. And, God love him, his deepest crime in his 10 NFL starts was honestly answering a question about checking out of a game because he was tired. We beg for candor and then slay those who have the courage or huggable innocence to tell the truth. 

However, the truth of the matter is that coach Shane Steichen and general manager Chris Ballard work for Jim Irsay, who, not that long ago, fired a perfectly all right head coach (Frank Reich) in the middle of a season so that he could hire a former player (Jeff Saturday) with only high school coaching experience who was, at the time, working as an analyst on ESPN and as a shadow advisor to the owner. 

I’m not saying that this was the motivating factor behind the move—honestly, Richardson getting dinged by some veteran players for his comments seems like a convenient and useful motivator for something that would have been done anyway. But if you are Steichen or Ballard, how can you sit through the rigors of this process sans any sort of contractual assurance that you will remain the long-term head coach and general manager no matter how cringeworthy this developmental period becomes? The answer, my friends, is you wouldn’t. None of us would. You would start the guy who made the playoffs with the Cleveland Browns the year before (Joe Flacco) and you would try to make the playoffs again now that the Houston Texans are beginning to come apart. Then, after some time and space had materialized between now and mid-January, when everyone was talking about all the great play calls you made and all the good players you drafted, you’d get back to work fixing the project. 

The New York Jets earlier this season—and, let’s be real, a lot of seasons—showed us how brutal the NFL can be. An owner plops a vision on a table and sets the course with less-than-ideal resources, working conditions, timeline, etc. Pick one or all of the above. It becomes a feverish and foolish push to buy yourself more time. Because more time is the NFL currency all are clamoring for. And it’s harder to acquire than Bitcoin. 

And so everyone tries to win. All the time. This offseason, I asked a group of coaches (none of whom are involved in what we’re currently talking about, to be clear) about some of my other pie-in-the-sky ideas along the lines of development at all costs. Building in more rest time for players like NBA coaches do, for example. Experimenting with different types of rosters. The answer was always, and immediately, yeah but we have to win now. All of those ideas are cool, but if we don’t make the playoffs this year …

I believe everyone in the Colts’ building who says they have not given up on Richardson. But I also believe that maybe—just maybe—they have given up on this idea that the people in charge of payroll are going to continue to dive into each game in search of the tiny, marginal improvements that’ll one day, years down the road, pay off in a big way. That they are going to wait with rapt attention to hear about how Richardson worked very hard in practice and it convinced some players rolling their eyes over his fatigue comment to rethink him as a person. 

I think Richardson needs to stack offseason reps, not just in-season reps. He needs to continue to surround himself with the right people and all the other clichés of growing and learning that you can think of. Eat, sleep and breathe football. Make it his life’s work. And so on. The fact that, after only a very small handful of college and professional games, he has shown such an outlier talent that the Colts were even thinking about letting this season slip away as grist for his long-term improvement is an amazing testament to what lies ahead. 

Unfortunately, none of that smooths the callous nature of the league that we’re in. Spend the season trying to develop Richardson and it doesn’t work? You’re the guys who didn’t develop Richardson and someone else will try to sell themselves as the person who will. Make the playoffs? You have time to be the guys who developed Richardson. Because, something we’ll all agree on amid all of this? There’s no quick and easy fix.