Nicked

We live in one of the most tedious moments of human history to have the curse of actually paying attention to things.

There are currently at least 50 or 80 different Bad Things happening to the United States, and the pecking order comes and goes. If you pay attention to them – something I don't always recommend, it's very depressing – you see the through-lines and understand both the causes and the problems. Most people don't actually pay attention to things because, frankly, there's more than enough things to think about to keep their brains occupied. We're a society in search of the perfect clip that explains it all, and half of the time that clip is about how we should do our own research in a world where research is shunted into an indie website or, at best, tolerated because of someone's wide audience. Said research often creates uncomfortable answers to known simple truisms and nobody wants that.

Sports, sadly, is not much different. Patrick Mahomes is both the greatest quarterback I've ever watched play and a superfraud who has been absolutely destroyed in half of his last four Super Bowls. It is very clear that the supporting cast – the coaching staff and the talent around him – are the main reasons why his numbers have declined from 4500 yards a year with 40 touchdowns to an almost-hard-to-watch 4000/30. The fact that Mahomes has been able to transcend that, and even win Super Bowls with it, is a historical outlier. But because our discourse is filled with low-effort chuckers who thrive on getting an emotional response from you, we get to learn that Mahomes is actually terrible at football.

These are the things that go through my mind as I am paid to pay attention to how C.J. Stroud plays football now. It's a very convenient story that he was never good or had a fluke year where it all came together – that happens to lots of quarterbacks. And you'll never make a good sound bite out of Nick Caserio hiring an anti-vax offensive line coach to build a blocking unit full of good football character guys who have the mental agility on stunts of someone who just woke up from a nap. Every week I briefly summarize watching games on Rotoworld's Football Show, and I am tasked with trying to give the simple answer in the simple sound bite. And I always struggle with this task because football isn't a simple game. Except when it is.

I have two main things I want to talk about with regards to how Nick Caley runs an offense, and weirdly, neither of them rely on me digging through film to make detailed points. Here's the first one, two clips long:

This goes hand-and-hand with the fourth-and-goal play from Monday Night. Let me ask you a question, football-loving viewership: Does the quarterback look comfortable in any way rolling out away from his throwing hand?

This, to me, is college football tape. And, you know, maybe more San Jose State than SEC. The very fact that you would insult me – or the defense – by running this play tells me a lot about you. You would have to not have any ability to watch practice and understand that the quarterback doesn't look good on this play, that his shoulders never get fully resquared to the line of scrimmage. You would have to drill this play in practice several times because it's awkward to begin with, and then you'd have to think that the shock value of rolling out a different direction would be worth spending plays on in the high red zone or on goal-to-go.

When lower-tier quarterback savants like, I dunno, Brian Callahan, talk about what it means to make the quarterback comfortable with plays he likes to run, this is the kind of stuff that would hit the playbook cutting room floor. But not in Nick Caley's world, no. In Nick Caley's world, this is a worthwhile play for some reason. He ran it twice! And it's not like anybody on the defense was all that fooled or there was a man running free on either play. In the second play here, there are seven blockers on one side of the football and one of Jacksonville's cornerbacks can just sit there and barely even need to worry about making a play.

I just watched Monday Night Football. The Lions won 38-30, a game against a good Ravens defense with their new offensive playcaller, and they scored as many points in one game as the Texans have in three. I'm not saying the Texans have the Lions' offensive talent – and that's a broader discussion that should be had about the man who goes to the grocery store – but I'm willing to bet Stroud's lads will struggle to score 10 points against the Ravens when they play in Week 5. They are playing different sports and coaching different sports.

Feels like a problem.

The other thing that drove me absolutely bonkers about this game was this sequence in the first quarter.

Starting from a first down, these are the Texans next three plays:

I know, I know, sorry, I made you watch three running plays. But here's my point: This is everything a defensive coach like DeMeco Ryans has ever wanted this team to be able to do! They got 15 yards on three runs! The blocking looked pretty good! And as washed as people pretend that Nick Chubb is because the Browns let him walk ... I kind of think he's playing pretty well! Not "Joe Mixon last year" well, but he hits holes hard and knows where they are.

Anyway, Nick Caley saw that, ran a dipshit screen that got minus-one yards, Tytus Howard false started, and a third-and-long play led to a missed field goal.

The Texans never trailed by more than seven points in this game. Those were the first three non-quarterback runs. The Texans had running backs take handoffs after how promising this looked 12 times against 37 called passes. Both Chubb and Marks averaged over four yards a carry!

This is an utter dereliction of duty. This is exactly what the Texans have been trying to do since the day Ryans was hired – run the ball well. They did it, and immediately wanted to forget it ever happened.

I don't think C.J. Stroud has looked good this year – there weren't many wow throws on this Week 3 tape. But I also don't think anyone would look good in this offense.

At this point I don't care if the Texans beat the Titans if it still looks like this. The season is over. You're not gonna sell me on a 17-10 win over the Titans as some turning point. It's beyond the scope of this article to talk about which coaches or front office members need to be fired – all we're doing is gazing with tranquility and reflecting.

My reflection is pretty simple: Only someone who is barely paying attention to how his offense is looking would run an offense like this.