It is only a game, right? So if the Miami Dolphins lose on Sunday, life goes on, no harm, no foul. The only people really, truly affected are the people directly involved with the team, right?

No.

Sports, like it or not, are woven into the fabric of this country because we are a competitive people and we pick sides on just about everything and then compete both within and without the country to see if we can be the best.

And even when we're not directly involved in the competition Americans are often invested in the competition. That investment never reaches heights that determine life and death, but certainly the investment can, as you will soon understand, determine the quality of our lives and deaths.

That is what is so sad about the Miami Dolphins of the past dozen years or so.

Once upon a time, Miami's professional football team was a source of pride.

No matter come what may, Miami could count on the Dolphins to represent us and speak to the nation for us. In good times and bad.

We had hurricanes in the summer. But we had the Dolphins in the winter.

We had immigrants and some natives didn't like that. But natives and immigrants sat next to each other in the Orange Bowl cheering for the Dolphins.

We had racial riots and parts of our city were set on fire. But the Dolphins gave us reasons for parades. And the pride they instilled would sometimes set the community aglow.

We had drugs and crime and economic downturns and political scandals. But, dammit, we had the Dolphins. And Don Shula. And Larry Csonka. And Paul Warfield. And that undefeated season. And the No-Name defense. And those Super Bowl wins. And Dan Marino. And we sure as heck made the playoffs every year.

We might have had trouble six days a week. But on Sunday we had God. And the Dolphins.

We could count on both.

Then the decline came. It wasn't that the team was no longer great. We could handle not winning a Super Bowl every year. It was just that they were no longer a source of pride.

We had instead what can best be described as a source of ridicule.

We had coaches quit in their heart before the season was over, as Jimmy Johnson did in 1998 and again in '99.

We had 62-7.

We had great businessmen make poor decisions as Wayne Huizenga did by letting Johnson pick Dave Wannstedt, followed by the hiring of Nick Saban and Cam Cameron and, even Bill Parcells.

We had not just poor draft picks but historically bad picks like Yatil Green and John Avery and Pat White and others.

We had that 1-15 season and the drafting of the Ted Ginn family and the failing forward fast.

And then we got a new owner and we didn't get any better. We got worse. We didn't get Jeff Fisher because the new owner valued Jeff Ireland more. And we got that plane trip across country to hire Jim Harbaugh as head coach while the current head coach sat in his office in Davie.

We got Gator Day at Sun Life the day Tim Tebow pulled a comeback. We got orange carpets and celebrity ownership. We got fist pumping field goals. We got extensions for coaches that needed to be fired. And then we got a late-season firing of one head coach whose contract had been extended and and an early-season firing of another head coach whose contract had been extended.

We are told the organization is "first in class." But the standings say they're fourth in a four-team division.

And why do I say all this? Because all those terrible things, all those disappointing years, all those daggers to the hearts of the men and women who invested time, tears and treasure in the Miami Dolphins come at a cost.

The Dolphins have lost a generation of fans.

Around the country, the kids that grew up idolizing Shula and Marino are having their own kids now. And those kids idolize .... who?

Who is the face of this franchise?

In South Florida, the Dolphins ruled once upon a time. But that reign has ended. The Heat has won three titles the past decade and been to five NBA Finals. Children don't grow up singing the Dolphins fight song anymore because the idea of "Miami Dolphins No. 1" is unrealistic.

And the generation that came before, the one that inhaled Dolphins football with every breath, is disappointed -- again. And it is passing away.

I'm not making this up. Let me introduce you to Capt. (Army retired) Kurt F. Ziebis. He is a civilian contract and fiscal law attorney in the office of Staff Judge Advocate for III Corps and Fort Hood in Texas. He was reared in South Florida and graduated from the University of Miami law school.

He grew up a Dolphins fan. His father before him was a Dolphins fan. I've never met him face to face. But like many Dolphins fans, Kurt has emailed me over the years to ask questions, send suggestions, and sometimes just vent about his Dolphins.

He sent this email Monday:

"My Dad lost his third battle with cancer a couple weeks ago. He passed away at home in Colorado about 20 minutes before my plane landed in Denver. I was able to see him last month and spend good time with him, even though he was clearly deteriorating. One of the last things we did together was watch the Jets beat the Dolphins in London on TV. My God, how he loved the Dolphins, Mando.

"He was cremated in his favorite suit, and along with family photos and mementos, we placed one of his Dolphin hats in with him -- my mom insisted. His funeral announcement included two team logos: Mets, and Dolphins. I guess they can sue me for copyright violation if they want to.



"Anyway, it's just so sad that he never got to see them at the top again. He was such an ardent fan, all his life. I look at this team today and I wonder if I'll pass before they are relevant again. But here we are again, Week Nine, and the Dolphins are out of it. Looking for a new coach. Probably needing a new QB as well. Same old, same old.

"I wanted them to be better for my father, it was one of his last remaining joys -- to watch them on Sunday Ticket. I'm sure they don't give a damn about Armin Ziebis, but he sure gave a damn about them. Right up until the end."

These Dolphins, once great and a source of pride and joy, have hurt themselves badly the past dozen years or so.

I hope they realize they've also hurt their fans.