A standard high school football offensive playbook is usually somewhere between a dozen and a hundred pages long (based on how serious the school takes the game). Throughout those pages, many have options on each such as route trees, shifts, motions, run/play action decisions and more. If each variation had its own page, they’d number closer to a thousand.
That’s a lot to learn.
At the NCAA level, that playbook jumps from roughly a 1/4” thick to 1-2” full of even more detailed pages.
Once you hit the
NFL, the playbook is often so thick each position group gets a broken down section tailored for just their role that’s thicker than the NCAA full monty.
Point being, that’s a LOT to learn, remember and recall while under pressure, in game, after some nasty linebacker just knocked the slobber out of you a moment earlier.
NFL offensive and defensive schemes run from the stripped down, basic sets seen in preseason games to highly complex entities that might give some folks at NASA a run for the detail orientation and complexity cash.
When a team hires a rookie offensive coordinator, the hope is that person has learned under the tutelage of a veteran OC. They know how to ease players into the playbook, instead of hitting them day one with the thickest book they’ve ever seen in their lives. And, they’re experts at teaching it to their players and position coaches.
Not too many rookie experts out there.
When a team brings in a new quarterback, the hope is that person can rapidly learn and ultimately command, the OC’s playbook as if he wrote it himself.
NFL history is littered with examples of this OC/QB connection misfiring.
One of the more famous examples this century was Brad Childress when he was the head coach of the Minnesota Vikings. Childress prided himself on the complexity of his offensive scheme, failing to see that the players didn’t get it, and, even worse, he often had the wrong players to execute his vision.
Put a pocket passer in a run-and-shoot offense and you get bad results. Speak to a guy who came up in the Shanahan tree in a language Mike Tomlin (who coached under Childress) uses and you create confusion.
Most recently in Houston’s history: the 5-7 step drop back offense engineered by George Godsey, if memory serves. A large, immobile quarterback, expected to take the first 75% of his post-snap time simply to drop back and set was insane. It was like watching a baby giraffe backpedal from a herd of hungry lions over and over again.
Now, we have Nick Caley’s run-first/smash mouth offensive scheme. Enter Stroud, a guy who flourished in a balanced, complimentary scheme at Ohio State under Brian Hartline. Stroud also did well under former OC Bobby Slowik’s initial, stripped down offense, but floundered once Slowik opened up the full playbook. Note, Slowik’s own shortcomings in both play calling and in-game adjustments didn’t help.
The 2025 Houston Texans season
To say this iteration of the Texans offense sputtered out of the gate is an understatement. Caley seemed so far out of his depth, the shore was nowhere in sight. Worse, Stroud looked lost and confused early and often. Now, if you’re going to employ a run-first, smash mouth offense and your RB1/lead smash mouther mysteriously undergoes a medical incident and vanishes, you better adapt. Caley likely was fired up to have Joe Mixon, and when he didn’t, he just went “next man up”, which clearly didn’t work.
But, take a minute and look in Stroud’s eyes. Find any clip from the early 2025 season and you don’t see the eyes of someone who confidently mastered the current playbook. You get a view of someone who seems more like they’re fighting for survival at Fake-it-til-you-make-it-U.
We can infer from Caley’s early press conferences that he also seemed lost, defensive that his grand plan was sinking fast, and unable to find his way out of the hole he dug. His inability to intelligently articulate his thoughts to the local press likely mirrored that same inability to communicate his shiny, new Sean McVay/Josh McDaniels playbook to the players, especially Stroud.
Then, the thing so many OCs dream of happened. Head coach Demeco Ryans and defensive coordinator Matt Burke showed the world the elite creation that was the 2025 Houston Texans defense. Make no mistake, if the defense had simply been average/middle of the road, there would be a lot of different conversations happening in NRG right now.
Now, we’ve established that Caley, a rookie coordinator, failed to set his offense up for success.
What actually happened though? Was Caley’s initial playbook too complex? Was it poorly communicated and taught to the players? A coaches job, after all, is first and foremost to teach the players how to execute the scheme and gameplan.
And, how does Caley react when he faces communication breakdowns? Does he wipe aside personal accountability and tell Stroud to figure it out? Or does he dig deep within himself and solve the problem, then implement a fix?
We likely will never know. What we do know is Caley’s play calling/in game adjustment style was often just as bad as his predecessors.
Caley’s “claim to fame” is having coached New England Patriots all-pro tight end Rob Gronkowski to his elite status. Anyone who has ever heard Gronk talk and then listened to C.J. Stroud should immediately realize they are very, VERY different people, likely to respond to very, VERY different input/feedback/communication styles. Coaches like Childress who expect the players to adapt to them fail guys like Stroud. Coaches who adapt to the players end up with rings and trophies (see Tomlin above).
Does C.J. Stroud suck?
The “hawt take” knee-jerk nonsense filling the NFL ether this week is that C.J. Stroud does indeed suck. Let’s face it, Caley didn’t throw those interceptions last weekend. However, this is the same C.J. Stroud who holds the Ohio State record for most passing yards in a game. The same Stroud who won NFL offensive rookie of the year. The same Stroud who, in just 3 seasons, has already won the 2nd most games of any Texans quarterback in history.
Chances are, Stroud does not, indeed “suck” unless we’re all at the bar throwing pretzels at the TV cause he just lost a playoff game to the Patriots 5 seconds ago. But, cooler heads prevail.
Tossing Stroud aside now and grabbing another quarterback is very off-brand for Demeco Ryans and the Houston Texans organization. And, as the saying goes these days #InDemecoWeTrust
Does Nick Caley suck?
Despite my oft times vocal disdain of Caley’s performance in 2025, he did start to right the ship towards the end of the season. Replacing him now would mean 2026 places Stroud in yet another new system, expects him to learn yet another 5” thick playbook and hoping against hope the new OC doesn’t suck as well. As we’ve all learned, prior success doesn’t always guarantee future wins in the NFL.
Do I wish Houston would have gone elsewhere a year ago for a new OC? Absolutely. Pairing a great offensive mind with what Ryans and Burke have been able to do with the defense would turn the Texans into a dynasty. And, who wouldn’t want that? I mean, come on…
Houston Texans 2026 offseason
If Caley can take what he learned in 2025 and build on it, that’s promising. If Caley can grow as a teacher, learn from Ryans on being a leader of men and ensure his players get it, that’s all anyone can ask.
If general manager Nick Caserio can bring in the personnel necessary to properly execute Caley’s scheme, let’s go. It’s not like the offensive needs much, especially if Tank Dell is back and doesn’t turn into a pumpkin shaped Will Fuller V at midnight.
If the defense can even achieve 75% of what it did in 2025, added to Caley and Caserio’s efforts, then 2026 will finally be the year the Texans break thru the glass ceiling.
Ditching Stroud now is going backwards. Ditching Caley now (unless Kyle Shanahan or someone of his stature decides they really want to be the Texans OC…) is going backwards.
This team has improved each year under Coach Ryans. If Stroud can fully grasp Caley’s playbook, Caley can improve his play calling and in-game adapting, and the wheels don’t fall off the bus somewhere else, maybe, just maybe, the NFL powers-that-will be allow the Texans a starring role in the 2026 script.
