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The Colts did it. After beginning the season with a record of 8–2, Indianapolis has now been eliminated from the playoffs. It's a pretty exclusive circle of hell, where they've landed: Since 1990, when the NFL playoffs expanded to 12 teams, only three teams have missed the field after such a strong start, and it certainly goes without saying that the Colts are the first to manage this fall since the playoffs expanded further, to 14 teams, in 2020. Fate pulled some incredible horseshit to produce this outcome, without even getting into Indianapolis's miserable quarterback situation: The Colts' ongoing losing streak, run to six games after Sunday's 23–17 loss to the Jacksonville Jaguars, coincides with a combined 15 consecutive wins (!) by the two teams now ahead of them in the AFC South. The universe wanted to be absolutely clear about this: The Colts could not be allowed to carry so much as a vague waft of relevance into the new year. One fellow who is not going to let this wretched and historic collapse ruin his good time is old man Philip Rivers. "Other than us not winning," said an upbeat Rivers after his team's latest loss, "it's been an absolute blast for three weeks." Included in that "blast" was Rivers tossing a horrible fourth-quarter interception Sunday that eventually set up Jacksonville's go-ahead field goal. The pick cannot really be described as any very serious form of "backbreaking," for the simple reason that the Colts were officially eliminated from playoff contention Saturday, when the Houston Texans beat the Chargers in Los Angeles. That Rivers, who was already old by professional-athlete standards when he retired way back in 2021, was even out there Sunday, slinging it around for the no-hope Colts, is a kind of personal moral victory. "It's been absolutely awesome," insisted Rivers Sunday afternoon. I'm not sure the satisfaction and delight are quite shared by those teammates of his who were around before the beginning of this hateful second-half swoon.

When news broke this weekend that an elusive, endangered wildcat was spotted in Thailand for the first time in three decades, I rejoiced, obviously. What wonderful news that the flat-headed cat, which is estimated to have a wild population of just 2,500 in Southeast Asia, had not gone extinct in Thailand. The wildcat's presence was confirmed by remote camera traps, which recorded the cats 13 times in 2024 and 16 times in 2025, in the swampy peat forests of the Princess Sirindhorn Wildlife Sanctuary. What an abundance of flat-headed cats where there formerly appeared to be no flat-headed cats at all! What joyous news to close out the year! And then I saw a better photo of the flat-headed cat, and my mood soured. The head of this cat did not seem so flat to me.

This is not the Brock Purdy you think you know. The Brock Purdy you know is a featureless, personality-deficient cipher, and entirely a creation of Kyle Shanahan's everything-but-the-quarterback football philosophy. That there might also be another Brock Purdy in there is fun to think about, if that's what you're into, but in terms of Shanahan's scheme and the 49ers' broader designs, it is not really relevant. But the scrambling, gambling quarterback who led the team to a 42-38 victory on Sunday is also Brock Purdy, as easily dismissible as you might think he is otherwise. Purdy is the ideal quarterback for Shanahan's teams, in that he is rarely required to be the hero in every win, and always required not to be the reason for a loss; a quarterback can make a nice living and win a lot of games playing like that, although it is also a sure ticket to Jared Goff-level uncoolness. Shanahan believes in the running game and defense as the building blocks of team success, and quarterback is merely an adjunct therein. Plus, Purdy looks like a guy who works the customer service desk at the auto parts store, and sounds like the next-door neighbor who helps you get your kid's ball out of the tree. His next interesting quote will give him an even one.

These are the best days of Macklin Celebrini's life—not just so far, but likely forever. The world is all possibilities, without the vaulted ceilings of reality or the low chandeliers of expectations. In hockey terms, he is Auston Matthews without the crushing burdens of being a Toronto Maple Leaf. He is not new to you, constant readers. He is currently on a seven-game scoring bender—five goals and nine assists in those games—and at the I'll-need-to-see-your-ID-son age of 19, his consistent persistence and occasional genius puts him on a list of teenagers who averaged more than a point per game, a list with wall-to-wall Hall of Famers. And not just outer-hedge Hall of Famers, but the Hall of Fame of Hall of Famers, like Wayne Gretzky, Mario Lemieux, Dale Hawerchuk, and Steve Yzerman, and active A-listers like Sidney Crosby, Connor McDavid, and Steven Stamkos.

Maybe you've heard this one before: The Pittsburgh Steelers lost a game they were highly favored to win, against one of the dregs of the NFL, blowing their chance to clinch the AFC North title. Now, whether or not the Steelers make the playoffs will come down to their Week 18 game against the Ravens. It was all set up for the Steelers on Sunday. They faced a Cleveland Browns team that was 3-12 coming into the game and quarterbacked by Shedeur Sanders, who currently doesn't seem capable of throwing for more than 200 yards. Without DK Metcalf, suspended after hitting a fan last week in Detroit, the Steelers seemed resigned to scoring fewer than 20 points, which they did, losing 13-6. Pittsburgh's offensive gameplan was so anemic and confounding that Myles Garrett is out here proposing a theory about the Steelers caring more about preventing him from getting the single-season sack record than they did winning the game.

We're ending the month—and the year!—with a challenging themeless puzzle. Keep an eye out for tricky clues and fun wordplay. This week's puzzle was constructed by Greg Snitkin and Glenn Davis, and edited by Hoang-Kim Vu. Greg is a dad with three small kids and a hedge fund accountant from South Orange, N.J. He was the captain of his high school soccer and track teams and can’t stop bragging about it. Glenn is a reformed sports blogger now working in the non-profit space. He and his wife live in New Jersey with two human children and two cats. He hopes this puzzle will be more fun than a football in the groin. Defector crosswords, launched in partnership with our friends at AVCX, run every Monday. If you’re interested in submitting a puzzle to us, you can read our guidelines HERE.

Naoya Inoue is boxing’s fixer. The peerless 122-pound Nippon warrior shows up after one-ring circuses soil the fight game, as last week’s hyper-moneyed breaking of Jake Paul's jaw surely did, to remind fans how pretty this most brutal of sports can sometimes be. On Saturday night in Riyadh, Inoue artfully pummeled previously unbeaten David Picasso about the head and breadbasket for 12 near-perfect rounds while retaining his undisputed super-bantamweight championship and enhancing his aura of indomitableness.  Picasso, a 25-year-old Mexican fighter who entered the ring with a 32-0-1 record, had noticeable height and reach advantages over Inoue, and attempted to put them to use throughout. But it was clear from the opening bell that Picasso was no match for the 32-year-old, Tokyo-based Inoue. The Monster’s body attack was particularly ruthless and effective; at several points in the fight, Picasso clearly gasped after taking an Inoue left hook to the right kidney. The DAZN microphones in Picasso’s corner picked up his admitting to his trainer/father, Chingo Picasso, between rounds that the body shots were hurting him bad.

Once upon a time, there was a man who felt no fear. His name was Jacksonville.  Things that scared other people did not scare Jacksonville. When Los Angeles came over, people said, "Watch out, those Chargers are tough!" 

This is what the Defector staff read and enjoyed in 2025. The Trials of Gabriel Ward Murder Mystery Series, by Sally Smith

Brandy Jensen: Hello Kelsey, I hope you had a lovely Christmas. Kelsey McKinney: Hello, Brandy. If by “Christmas” you mean “the season finale of the hit show Heated Rivalry starring Connor Storrie and Hudson Williams which aired on Dec. 26,” I sure did!!