What happens when a team’s most promising quarterback becomes a liability? The Indianapolis Colts are facing a surreal dilemma in 2026, one that highlights the absurdity of modern NFL roster construction. Here’s a team that spent years cultivating Anthony Richardson as their franchise cornerstone, only to now consider keeping him as a third-stringer while paying him millions to sit. It’s a situation so bizarre it feels like a satire of the league’s current priorities. But this isn’t just about Richardson—it’s about the entire system that allows such scenarios to exist.
The Colts’ decision to carry three quarterbacks isn’t just a logistical choice; it’s a reflection of a league obsessed with hedging bets. Daniel Jones, the aging but reliable starter, is locked in for 2026 thanks to a transition tag deal. Riley Leonard, the sixth-round pick who’s outperformed Richardson in camp, is now the de facto backup. Meanwhile, Richardson—a former top-10 pick with a $4.24 million roster bonus already paid—could be traded for a song. But why would anyone want him? He’s a 24-year-old with 15 NFL starts under his belt, plagued by inaccuracy and a lingering vision issue from a 2025 eye injury. The numbers don’t lie: he’s not a starter, not a trade asset, and not even a guaranteed backup.
What makes this particularly fascinating is how it exposes the NFL’s obsession with ‘options.’ Teams now carry three QBs not out of necessity, but out of fear. The Colts aren’t alone; half the league has multiple quarterbacks on their rosters. But this creates a paradox: if you’re paying for three QBs, why not invest in developing one? Richardson’s situation is a case study in this broken logic. The Colts declined his fifth-year option, then refused to trade him despite his market value. Why? Because they’re terrified of losing their ‘investment’ in him, even though that investment has yielded zero returns. It’s a classic case of sunk cost fallacy dressed up as strategic planning.
Leonard’s rise adds another layer of absurdity. A sixth-round pick who’s outperformed a first-round talent? That’s not just a story about talent—it’s a indictment of the draft process. Teams spend millions on high picks, only to see them overshadowed by late-round gems. Leonard’s success raises a deeper question: what if the future of quarterback development lies not in expensive drafts, but in nurturing under-the-radar talent? The Colts’ willingness to let Leonard beat Richardson in camp suggests they’re finally starting to get this. But will they have the courage to cut ties with Richardson entirely, or will they keep him as a symbolic gesture of ‘loyalty’?
The financial calculus here is equally wild. Richardson’s base salary is just $1.15 million, but the Colts are still paying him to sit. That’s not just a waste of money—it’s a psychological trap. Teams convince themselves they’re ‘protecting’ their investment by keeping players on the roster, even when those players are actively harming the team’s prospects. It’s a cycle that rewards mediocrity and punishes innovation. If the Colts truly want to rebuild, they should trade Richardson immediately. But they won’t. Because in today’s NFL, letting go of a high-profile QB—even a failed one—is seen as a betrayal of the fanbase.
Looking ahead, this situation says everything about the NFL’s future. We’re entering an era where quarterback depth is prioritized over development, where teams are more concerned with having ‘options’ than building a cohesive offense. Richardson’s story is a cautionary tale: when a team clings to a failed project instead of embracing change, everyone loses. The Colts could’ve used this year to reset, to let Leonard prove himself, to move on from a QB who’s clearly not the answer. Instead, they’re stuck in a purgatory of indecision. And that, more than anything, is the real tragedy here.
