Anthony Richardson heard the boos. He is human, after all. He has ears. The jeers, catcalls and snorts rained down upon the Indianapolis Colts and their embattled quarterback all game on Sunday. They came from the home fans, delivered from right up front to way up top.
In the aftermath of a 16–10 victory over the Miami Dolphins that felt like less than a win, Richardson acknowledged that the chorus of displeasure had, indeed, reached him. He said it didn’t bother him. And he agreed with those fans, to a point: Indy’s offense needed to execute and had not, again.
Thus continues a new, unprecedented viewing calculus—for any Colts fan; for anyone interested in quarterback play, or how teams win in the modern NFL; and for those enticed by the limits of human potential and how to reach them. Whether any one person is still enticed by Richardson, or begging the Colts to end this grand experiment in offensive football, depends on the individual answers to several questions. How many days like this can they look past? Tolerate? And, critically, for what kind of payoff, exactly, whether later this season or down the road.
For now, Richardson raises more questions than he answers. Is he injury-prone? So far, yes, but not exactly in the way he’s most commonly described. Is he inaccurate? Yes. Alarmingly so. Young? Undoubtedly, the 22-year-old is the second-youngest QB in the NFL, older only than Drake Maye, the New England Patriots’ rookie who was born three months later.
That’s the baseline. But context matters. Flashes—of what’s possible, from impossible throws to an unfathomable combination of traits—matter. Experience and reps matter. The plays that Colts head coach Shane Steichen calls matter. It all matters, but so does patience. And how much patience will vary, at least while the Colts, at 4–3, attempt to solve a shaky season and everyone invested in Richardson’s success will toil to close the gap between what he can be and what he—at least currently—is.
