Shane Steichen had a golden chance to bench Daniel Jones on Sunday. He chose to protect his own evaluation instead.

The Colts led the Titans 13-0 at halftime in front of a packed Lucas Oil Stadium, and then it all came apart: Tennessee, a team that walked in 0-5 and was a touchdown underdog, scored 20 unanswered to open the third quarter and left with a 26-20 win. Jones finished 22-of-42 for 269 yards, one touchdown, two picks, and six sacks against a defense that had been bleeding points all season.

Four turnover-marred games in a row now.

That stopped being a blip a few weeks ago. Jones is sitting at 4 touchdowns to 6 interceptions through six starts, on a two-year, $88 million deal that was supposed to end the Colts’ quarterback carousel for good. Instead the carousel’s spinning faster, and by the fourth quarter Sunday the crowd had moved past Jones entirely and started chanting “FIRE BALLARD” at the GM who wrote the check.

Here’s ESPN’s Stephen Holder, who was in the building for it:

https://twitter.com/HolderStephen/status/2111910426678301008

And here’s what Steichen said when a reporter asked him, flat out, whether Jones is still his guy: “I think he knows he’s got to play better,” he said — then spread the blame so wide it barely touched Jones at all: “I’ve gotta coach better. There’s a lot of things, it’s not on one guy.” That’s not benching your quarterback. That’s not even benching yourself.

I don’t think Steichen is lying about believing in Jones. I think he can’t afford to stop.

Steichen staked his own name on this quarterback the moment Indy handed him $88 million instead of giving the job to Anthony Richardson, who settled for the backup job behind him in September. If Jones is cooked, Steichen’s judgment is cooked right along with him, and with both his seat and Ballard’s reportedly warming up by the week, benching Jones now means standing in front of a city and admitting the plan already failed. Saying “he’s got to play better” costs nothing. Saying “I was wrong” costs a job.

I’ll give the counterargument its due, because it’s a real one. Jones had the Colts rolling at 8-2 last season before a three-game skid and a torn Achilles ended his year in Week 14, and he beat the Achilles clock to get back on the field in time for this one. Six shaky games this soon after a major leg injury isn’t nothing.

Bodies take time. Trust, apparently, takes longer.

But six games is also six games, and at some point a sample-size defense runs out the same way Indy’s lead did against Tennessee.

This isn’t the record anyone in Indianapolis expected when they handed Jones that contract, and the fans know it, which is why they skipped past booing their quarterback and went straight for Ballard’s job security. The Colts are now stuck inside the NFL’s longest active losing streak, and the one guy with the authority to change anything just told the whole building, in so many words, that nothing’s changing.

My dad already texted me one word about it: “Richardson.” I’m ignoring him. Some conversations you let the quarterback have for himself.