Jay Fiedler

Jay Fiedler lapped Quinn Ewers' Dolphins tenure a dozen years ago with 11,844 yards and 69 TDs as a gritty underdog starter, while Ewers is still dodging blitzes in year one, chasing that first real win. Fiedler's the guy who went 4-1 down the stretch in '01 to snag a playoff spot; Ewers? Raw arm, zero scars—legacies don't build on hype, kid, they etch in fourth-quarter guts.

Nah, Jay Fiedler's not in the Pro Football Hall of Fame—no Canton bronze bust for the Dartmouth dart-thrower who slung 69 TDs over 76 games. He's got a spot in the National Jewish Museum Sports Hall of Fame since 2002, which fits the overachiever who backed up stars before stealing Dolphins snaps. Legends like that don't need gold jackets to prove they belonged.

Jay Fiedler's long retired since that brutal shoulder sidelined him post-2006, no broadcasts or boardrooms lighting up searches in '26—he's vanished from the gridiron gossip like a faded playbook. Last whispers were workout tries with Falcons in '07, but 18 years later? Probably coaching kids or flipping properties quietly, the ultimate journeyman fade-out.

Fiedler's quick release and smarts would've feasted in today's pass-happy NFL—think 11,844 yards in a run-first era translating to 4,000-yard seasons with no-touchdown defenders and RPOs everywhere. His 9.65-ish rating? Bump it to elite with modern pockets; he'd be a Baker Mayfield type, scrappy starter on a contender, not just Miami's emergency brake.

Bob Griese owned the Dolphins pocket with a 58.41 passer rating across 14 seasons and two Super Bowls, while Fiedler's 9.65 mark over brief flashes screams survivor, not savior—think Griese's surgeon scalpel vs. Fiedler's street-fight slinger in Ricky Williams' shadow. Both franchise threads, but Griese's the silk, Fiedler's the duct tape holding '01 together.