Picture Lucas Oil Stadium on a humid August night: Anthony Richardson, the Colts’ human rocket launcher, takes the field—and five plays later, suffers a dislocated pinky on his throwing hand. The preseason opener against the Ravens ends in a 24–16 loss, and the air hisses out of the building faster than a deflated football.

“It’s day-to-day,” Shane Steichen stated flatly postgame. “Dislocated pinky was popped back in.” Richardson’s dual-threat upside is undeniable—635 rushing yards and 10 touchdowns on the ground, a cannon arm that once torched Houston for a 60-yard score—but durability remains the question.

Simple. Clinical. But beneath the surface? A franchise holding its breath. This wasn’t just a preseason L. It was déjà vu wearing shoulder pads. Anthony Richardson, the dude who once powered through slipping on turf to launch a 60-yard TD missile against Houston, now sidelined—again. His stat line reads like a cautionary tale: 15 starts across two seasons, 50.6% completions, 11 TD passes against 13 INTs, but also 635 rushing yards and 10 ground scores. The potential is nuclear; the durability? Paper-thin.

The Ravens didn’t just win; they exposed the Colts’ raw edges. While Daniel Jones stepped in for Richardson (2/3, 21 yards before exiting), he couldn’t spark the offense. The defense got carved up. The vibe? Less ‘next man up’, more ‘now what?’ Steichen knows it. His plan—a true QB competition, reps split right down the middle—just got complicated. He’d called the Richardson-Jones battle “neck and neck” days prior. Now, the neck’s in a splint.

Reeling from reality

Anthony Richardson’s journey screams resilience. Grew up in Gainesville, sometimes relying on school snack rooms for meals. Became a brother’s hero, a son who bought his mom a house with his rookie contract ($33.99M guaranteed). He’s the QB who orchestrated that bonkers 23-point comeback against the Rams as a rookie and later sealed a win over the Patriots with a gutsy 19-play drive. Dude’s got ‘clutch’ in his DNA. But his injury sheet is longer than a third-down playcall:

His medical ledger:

• 2023: concussion (Wk 2), season-ending shoulder surgery (Wk 5)

• 2024: oblique/hip (Wk 5–6), back spasms (Wk 17–18)

• 2025 Offseason: shoulder inflammation (missed OTAs/minicamp)

• Now: dislocated pinky (Preseason Wk 1)

Steichen sees past the bandages. He’s praised Richardson’s ‘instincts,’ his ability to improvise like a jazz musician in pads. Steichen mused earlier in camp after a Richardson scramble TD, “Everything looks cleaner… He’s playing at a high level, he’s making good decisions with the football.” He’d noted a “huge jump” in Richardson’s command of the offense: “I think he’s been really good… The communication piece is huge… just checks, alerts at the line, taking what’s there.” This setback isn’t a curtain call.

It’s an intermission. Anthony Richardson’s story is etched in grind—from combine records to game-winning drives, punctuated by that iconic 360-degree spike. The Colts need his electric duality, his Cam Newton-esque toolbox. Owner Carlie Irsay-Gordon believes. Steichen believes. But faith needs reps. It needs that pinky healed.

As Indy licks its wounds, one truth echoes: Potential means nothing parked on the sideline. Richardson’s day-to-day status is a microcosm of the Colts’ 2025 season—brimming with possibility, yet painfully fragile. The next chapter hinges on resilience. Again. For the kid who jumped clean over expectations, the next leap is back onto the field. Anything less feels like a fumble.