Arizona Has Run Out of Excuses and Almost Run Out of Time
I have written two columns in the past week arguing that the Cardinals aren't rebuilding — they're dissolving. I'd like to be wrong. The evidence keeps making that impossible.
Let's start at the top, because that's where the rot is deepest. Ryan Gold, a personnel executive, was suspended indefinitely in mid-July for betting on NFL and college games and leaking information about Arizona's own 2026 draft picks. He is appealing. Which means the man who helped shape this franchise's draft board is fighting his suspension in the background while Jonathan Gannon tries to construct a roster around picks whose integrity is now in question. Every other team in the league knows what Arizona was considering. That is not a distraction. That is a structural wound.
Then came Isaiah Adams. The offensive lineman turned himself in to police on July 22 facing four charges in a Canadian guns and gangs investigation. His status remains active on the roster, which creates its own kind of organizational limbo — you cannot plan around a player you cannot count on, and the Cardinals' offensive line was already a crisis before his name appeared in a police report. Three days later, tight end Travis Vokolek retired at 28 because of a neck injury, which is heartbreaking for him personally and a quiet disaster for a receiving corps that was already running thin. Then Josh Sweat — the team's best defensive end by a considerable margin — landed on the physically unable to perform list with a knee injury. The backup behind him is a steep drop. The backup behind the backup barely registers.
This is the part that should terrify Cardinals fans: none of these are football problems. The Gold scandal is a governance problem. The Adams situation is a legal problem. Vokolek's retirement is a medical tragedy. Sweat's knee is injury luck. A team with organizational depth can absorb one of these. Maybe two. Arizona is absorbing all of them simultaneously while trying to rebuild from a 3-14 season in which they lost nine straight to close the year and left somewhere in the neighborhood of four or five additional wins on the field through sheer execution failure. They weren't just bad last season — they were worse than their talent warranted.
The roster underneath all this chaos is not without hope, and I want to be fair about that. Trey McBride posted 1,239 yards and 11 touchdowns last season. Michael Wilson crossed 1,000 yards. Marvin Harrison Jr. showed genuine promise in limited time. Those are real pieces. But around them, the Cardinals carry a 31-year-old running back who is listed as questionable right now and produced at a fraction of what a starter should, a cornerback situation with essentially one player who logged meaningful snaps all season, and a linebacker room that is similarly threadbare behind its starter. The Brissett re-signing on a one-year, $15.5 million deal at least signals some intent to stabilize at quarterback — but stabilizing around a backup is not the same as solving the position, and the drop to Gardner Minshew behind him remains alarming.
My declaration, and I'll stand on it: the Cardinals will not compete in 2026. That is not a hot take — it is the only rational read of the evidence. The question that actually matters is whether Jonathan Gannon can hold this thing together long enough to build something worth watching in 2027. History is not especially kind to teams that combine front-office scandal, legal chaos, and a roster this thin. The 2017 Browns had organizational dysfunction and a gutted depth chart and needed years to find their floor before they could find a ceiling. Arizona is not yet at the floor. They are still falling. The Hall of Fame Game kicks off the preseason this week, and the Cardinals will be on the field in Canton. It will look like football. It will feel like a team going through motions while the building smolders behind them.
Prove me wrong, Arizona. I have been waiting.