The Colts' QB Trap: Why Steichen's Quarterback Inertia Might Be the Smartest Move in Indianapolis, Even If Nobody Believes It

Shane Steichen has made a career out of being a pragmatist. As the offensive coordinator in Indianapolis and now as the head coach, he has consistently demonstrated a willingness to work within the constraints of reality rather than chase the fantasy of imaginary upgrades. His recent public stance on Daniel Jones, suggesting he has "not thought" about replacing the quarterback despite mounting offensive struggles, will be interpreted by critics as either delusional optimism or organizational paralysis. The truth is far more complicated, and frankly, far more honest than most teams are willing to admit.

Let's start with what everyone already knows. The Indianapolis Colts' offense has been putrid. Jones has thrown 12 interceptions against only 10 touchdown passes through the first several weeks of the season. The yards per attempt numbers are uninspiring. The decision-making on third-and-longs has been predictably catastrophic. The running game, which was supposed to be a strength of this offense, has been inconsistent. By almost any metric that matters, the Colts' passing offense ranks near the bottom of the NFL. The pressure is there for a change, both external from fans and media, and probably internal from the front office and ownership.

But here is where the story becomes genuinely interesting rather than merely derivative. Steichen is not saying Daniel Jones is playing great. He is not claiming that the offense is where it needs to be. What he is actually saying, whether he realizes it or not, is something far more damaging to the mythology of quarterback perpetual availability. He is saying that the alternative options available to him right now represent either a massive risk or essentially no upgrade at all. And that is probably correct.

Anthony Richardson, the physical marvel that Indianapolis selected second overall in 2023, remains largely untested in real game conditions. The kid had a shoulder injury that kept him sidelined for essentially his entire rookie season. He has missed considerable time this year as well. Teams love to imagine Richardson in their fever dreams, because his physical tools are legitimately elite. His arm strength is real. His athleticism is exceptional. But football does not care about physical tools. Football cares about what you can do when the game is actually being played, when defensive coordinators have logged film on you, when pressure is in your face, when your first read is covered and you have to make a decision on your second.

The truth about Anthony Richardson is that we simply do not know if he is any good. That is not a knock on Richardson. That is just the reality of where he is in his development. The Colts could absolutely roll the dice on him, and maybe they get a kid who becomes a franchise quarterback. Maybe they get a kid who throws eight interceptions in his first three starts and sets the franchise back another two years trying to figure out what they actually have. The calculus of risk versus potential reward is not as simple as disgruntled fans want to believe.

Then there is Riley Leonard, the third-round pick from this year's draft who has precisely zero snaps of NFL experience. We are actually going to have a conversation about benching Daniel Jones for a kid who has never lined up in an NFL game? The only way this makes sense is if you believe that Leonard is going to be so clearly superior to Jones from day one that there is no downside to rushing him into the starting role. That belief is not supported by anything we know about quarterback development in 2024. Third-round rookies do not walk in and immediately provide competitive advantages over NFL-starting-caliber players.

Here is what Steichen might actually understand that his critics do not. His job, right now, is not to find a perfect solution. His job is to stop the bleeding with the options he has available. Jones, for all his failures, is still a functioning NFL quarterback. He takes snaps. He goes through progressions. He occasionally makes throws that only NFL quarterbacks can make. Is he great? No. Is he good? Debatable at best. But he is not completely broken either, and he is not an unknown quantity that requires months of adjustment.

The deeper issue here involves what we might call the quarterback desperation paradox. When teams are bad, the first instinct is to change the quarterback. This is true even when the quarterback is not actually the primary source of the problem. The Colts' offensive line has been spotty. The receiver room has injuries and inconsistency. The play calling, while Steichen's responsibility, has sometimes seemed conservative in spots where aggression would have been warranted. The running game has been uneven. The team has defensive issues that have not been adequately addressed.

Pulling the trigger on Anthony Richardson or throwing Riley Leonard into the fire does not fix any of those problems. What it does is mask the real issues under the guise of a dramatic decision that feels decisive. It gives the illusion of action while potentially making the situation worse. This is why good organizations sometimes stick with a quarterback who is frustrating rather than immediately bail on him. They understand that quarterback change for the sake of change is often catastrophic.

Now, is it possible that Steichen is simply afraid to make a difficult decision? Sure. Is it possible that organizational cowardice is being dressed up as pragmatism? That is fair to consider. But the more straightforward explanation is that Steichen looks at his quarterback options and sees exactly what a pragmatist would see. He sees a guy in Jones who, while struggling, is providing a baseline level of competence. He sees two alternative options who would require either massive risk or massive patience, neither of which the organization has demonstrated it is willing to provide.

The other element that nobody wants to discuss is the psychological reality of losing a starting job in the NFL. If you pull Daniel Jones from the lineup and start Anthony Richardson, you are not going to rehabilitate Richardson's development by doing so with a desperate franchise that is already losing games. You are going to accelerate his education in the worst possible classroom. Every interception he throws will be magnified. Every missed throw will be dissected. Every incompletion will be followed by texts suggesting that Jones was actually better. That is not an environment where young quarterbacks flourish.

Similarly, if you rush Riley Leonard into action, you are potentially dooming him before he has even had a chance to understand the speed of an NFL game. Yes, some teams have successfully done this with rookies. But most of them drafted those rookies at the top of the draft in situations where it was truly a blank slate. Leonard is a third-rounder coming in during a season in which the team is already struggling. That is not a recipe for success.

Steichen's "not thinking" about a quarterback change might actually be one of the more honest statements a coach can make in the modern NFL. It is honest because it acknowledges that the alternatives are not actually alternatives. It is honest because it suggests that the problem is more complex than just finding a new quarterback. It is honest because it admits that sometimes the best move is to work with what you have rather than destroy what might be something.

Whether the Colts actually make this work remains to be seen. But at least Steichen is being intellectually consistent about the constraints he is operating under.