The Colts QB Room: A Triage Center for Misfit Toys
What in the name of Jim Irsay’s questionable decision-making is happening in Indianapolis?
It’s a comedy show. A tragic, high-stakes, multi-million dollar comedy show where the punchline keeps getting injured and wheeled off the stage. The Indianapolis Colts, a franchise that once boasted the most durable quarterback in NFL history (Peyton Manning, for those who forgot a time before this current dumpster fire), have officially entered a new dimension of quarterbacking futility. The situation has gone from bad to worse, then circled back to “wait, what just happened?” in the span of roughly 48 hours. Daniel Jones, whose career resurgence under Shane Steichen had finally given the Colts faithful something other than old highlights to watch, tore his Achilles. The man who replaced him, Riley Leonard, didn’t even make it a full game before suffering a knee injury. The ‘next man up’ philosophy died on the spot. It didn’t just fail; it detonated on contact. This isn’t just bad luck; this is a sign from the universe that the Colts, or at least their current quarterback contingent, are fundamentally cursed.
When Daniel Jones went down, a collective groan echoed through Indianapolis (and probably New York, where many fans were either rooting for his success or actively enjoying his failure, depending on their personal bias). Jones had, against all odds, managed to navigate the chaos of the Colts’ offense, showing moments of genuine competence, or at least less incompetence than anticipated. His Achilles tear wasn’t just an injury; it was the definitive end of a redemption arc that had barely begun, a cruel joke played on a player who finally looked like he belonged. The severity of the injury, a confirmed season-ending tear, means Jones’s 2025 campaign is over before Week 15 even fully kicks off, leaving the Colts to face a harsh reality: they’re not just without their starting quarterback; they’re without their identity for the next few months.
Is Riley Leonard made of glass? And why did the Colts draft him if he can’t survive one quarter of football?
The immediate aftermath of Jones’s injury saw Riley Leonard, a rookie quarterback with limited experience and (apparently) even more limited durability, step in as the new hope. That hope, however, lasted about as long as a New Year’s resolution in February. Leonard promptly sustained a knee injury of his own during the Week 14 loss to the Jaguars, which raises some serious questions. First, how is it possible that the Colts’ training staff keeps producing quarterbacks that are more fragile than antique porcelain dolls? Second, and more importantly, what exactly is the evaluation process for these players? We’re told a quarterback needs to be tough, needs to be a leader, needs to be able to take a hit. Leonard took one hit and now his status for Week 15 against the Seahawks is up in the air, with the organization resorting to hopeful rhetoric (as in, ‘Colts hopeful QB can play vs. Seahawks’) that screams desperation rather than confidence. It’s almost as if the franchise is trying to set a record for most quarterbacks injured in a single season, perhaps to garner a new, unique ‘Tragedy Award’ from the league office.
The irony here is thicker than a cheap steak. The Colts spent considerable capital and hope on Jones, believing they’d finally found stability after years of cycling through quarterbacks post-Manning. Jones’s injury, while unfortunate, is a risk every team takes. But Leonard’s immediate breakdown? That feels less like a risk and more like a prophecy coming true. The Colts are now left scrambling, not just for a starter, but for anyone who can throw a football accurately and not immediately disintegrate upon impact. The team’s depth chart has officially reached ’emergency’ status, where Shane Steichen might have to start looking at the practice squad or even consider bringing back a retired legend just for the sheer spectacle of it all.
The curious case of Anthony Richardson Sr. and the management’s ‘plan’
Now, let’s address the elephant in the room that apparently nobody wants to acknowledge: Anthony Richardson Sr. The data states that he will not be activated from injured reserve for Week 15. This is where the satire truly becomes difficult to distinguish from reality. The Colts, facing a potential playoff push and having lost their top two quarterbacks, still won’t activate a seasoned veteran who theoretically could offer some stability. Why? Because management loves a good mystery more than a competent roster, apparently. The official word on Richardson has been vague, which often means one of two things: either he’s far from healthy, or the organization simply doesn’t want to play him for reasons known only to themselves. It creates a vacuum of leadership and a lack of options that a truly competitive team would never allow itself to fall into. The decision not to activate Richardson in this crisis situation suggests either gross negligence or a long-term strategy that prioritizes next season over current opportunities, effectively waving the white flag on the 2025 campaign.
This situation highlights a systemic issue within the Colts franchise that dates back far beyond the current coaching staff. Ever since Andrew Luck retired and left a gaping hole at quarterback, the Colts have been in a state of purgatory, searching for a permanent solution. They’ve tried veteran castaways (Philip Rivers, Carson Wentz), high-potential rookies (Luck himself), and now the current combination of Jones and Leonard. None of it has worked. The franchise has developed a reputation as a place where quarterback careers go to die or, in Jones’s case, suffer a tragic end just as they show signs of life. The fact that Richardson Sr. remains sidelined while the team implodes suggests a deep-seated philosophical problem in how they manage their roster. It feels like they’re trying to build a new model of a quarterback, but all they keep getting are broken pieces. Maybe they should just start taking applications from the crowd; it’s hard to imagine anyone doing much worse than the current situation.
A historical look at the curse and what the future holds for the Colts’ ‘Sacrificial Lambs’
Let’s take a quick trip down memory lane, shall we? This isn’t the first time the Colts have dealt with quarterback drama, but the speed of this collapse is unprecedented. The 2011 season, when Peyton Manning was sidelined and the team went 2-14, was a different kind of pain; that was the loss of a legend. This is more like a slapstick comedy where every character trips on the same banana peel, over and over again. The Colts’ decision-making regarding quarterbacks has consistently shown a lack of foresight and an almost comical reliance on hope over actual planning. From the high expectations placed on Luck to the revolving door of veterans, the franchise has struggled to replicate the stability of the Manning era. This current predicament feels like the ultimate culmination of all those years of poor choices and bad luck. The team’s front office must be looking at the draft prospects right now, thinking about which poor soul they can bring in to be the next sacrificial lamb for the Indianapolis curse.
The implications of this crisis extend beyond just this season. Daniel Jones’s Achilles tear will require significant rehabilitation, putting his readiness for the start of the 2026 season in serious doubt. Riley Leonard’s injury, while potentially less severe, adds to the uncertainty surrounding his development. The Colts are now faced with the possibility of entering the offseason with zero viable options at quarterback. They’ll likely be forced to spend a high draft pick on another signal-caller, restarting the whole cycle once again. The question isn’t whether they’ll find a quarterback; it’s whether that quarterback will survive long enough to make an impact before the curse strikes again. The future looks bleak, not because of a lack of talent in other areas, but because the very foundation of the team—the quarterback position—has crumbled faster than a sandcastle in high tide. It’s a truly remarkable feat of organizational dysfunction, and we haven’t even mentioned the potential impact on coach Steichen’s future, as he tries to keep this sinking ship afloat without a captain at the helm. Good luck, Indianapolis; you’re going to need a lot more than just hope.
