It’s hard to discern precisely why Jim Caldwell’s firing makes me happy. I hate the Colts, after all, and I found it endlessly amusing to watch a man hired to stay out of Peyton Manning’s way suddenly thrust into the role of helming a team without Peyton Manning. His passive observation of the Colts’ unbridled awfulness will remain one of my favorite visuals of the 2011 season; the Colts may as well have been coached by a large toadstool or an ottoman.
So why enjoy his dismissal? It’s a relief to sane observers of the NFL — a welcome affirmation that an organization worth hundreds of millions of dollars is perhaps not captained by blind inbreds, as we’d begun to suspect with every passing day that Caldwell kept his job. There’s a recession, after all, and we’re capitalists: we’re happy that Jim Caldwell is fired because he DESERVED to be fired. Love or hate the Colts, the job should go to a productive member of society. (I say that now, but I actually hope the Colts hire someone equally terrible.)