Texans might have prayer to appease Watson
On Tuesday, just when I was about to take a comedic shot at the Texans’ troubles and suggest divine intervention might be necessary, Deshaun Watson tweeted that he asked his mother to pray on it.
Oh, Lawd.
As one who grew up going to church almost every day — and thrice on Sundays — I’m not about to joke about the Texans quarterback’s prayer call.
When one puts in a prayer request to momma or grandmama or auntie, it’s serious. That’s deeper than getting your name on the congregation’s weekly prayer list.
OK, now I’m holding up my index finger as I exit the sanctuary. (Who among you hasn’t tipped out to catch the noon kickoff ?)
Wait a minute. Watson may or may not have asked his mother to pray for him as he decides how to deal with the Texans.
Perhaps he is just “Codeine Crazy” on lyrics from the rapper Future, from whose cut the phrase is lifted.
And that is where we are now. Deciphering hip-hop lyrics on social media posts in an effort to understand the current relationship between the Texans and their starting quarterback.
I’m not old, but I’m feeling out of touch.
Matt Schaub never hid his thoughts inside a Kenny Chesney song.
Humor can be found in Watson’s tweet — I mean, Jack Easterby, who found his way into the NFL as a team chaplain, is at the center of the Texans’ controversy — but it’s not that funny.
A month ago, the Texans
were being run by an interim GM who had no experience running or even being close to running an NFL team, and they didn’t have a head coach.
Upward of 150 people marched outside NRG Stadium on Monday, calling for Easterby’s ouster. That is an NFL first.
His ascension from preacher to power broker has been impressive. But let’s be fair. We’re talking about a guy who Bill Belichick says taught him a lot.
Team chaplains rarely elicit such controversy. Their job is to bring the team together.
Former Texans chaplain Greg Tyler, “Chap” as many of us know him, managed to be mentioned in one Chronicle article in almost a decade with the franchise.
Said mention was that the Texans wouldn’t allow him to be quoted in an article because of a team policy to avoid the discussion of religion.
Next thing we knew, a preacher was in charge.
Texans owner Cal McNair has stood up for Easterby, who has significantly more pull with the Texans than he had at his previous stop with New England. Under Belichick, he had a limited role.
He is likable enough, spiritual — decent, say many who know him — but his presence in Houston has resulted in some in the Texans’ organization describing him as “smarmy.”
The Patriots’ team website once posted an article entitled:
“You don’t know Jack: The most influential Patriot you’ve never heard of.”
In it, Easterby shared his thoughts on being an agent of God.
“If it’s washing a guy’s car, meeting him for dinner, playing Wiffle ball in the backyard, my best ability is my availability — 2 o’clock in the morning, 3 in the afternoon,” Easterby said. “When I do that, I show a little glimpse of who God is. Because God doesn’t sleep. God doesn’t turn away when your problem’s too big. My goal in a small way is to mirror that the best I can.”
Players credited him as a positive influence. The organization applauded his efforts.
The admiration due one who has done as much good and is as committed to his faith as Easterby says he is gets lost amid the controversy of an organization that seems to be collapsing on top of itself.
The late Bob McNair never hid his strong Christian values or how they played a significant role in the way he ran his team.
Not that the team held religious biases based on beliefs or denomination.
It was about character, decency.
According to some who worked in the organization, when it came to the acquisition of players or when coaching or front-office hires needed to be made, candidate lists were trimmed to eliminate certain questionable characters before they got to McNair.
You would think that is the case throughout the NFL, but it isn’t.
Easterby’s original title of executive vice president of team development was weird enough, considering such a position never existed, but it was all about working with the players in the building, not deciding which players to acquire.
It wasn’t always smooth, but that’s not unusual.
Two players told me they had no idea who Easterby was when he showed up and started mingling.
He was like someone at a private party whom you knew was invited, but you didn’t know why, one said.
On a team of 60-plus players, it is impossible to have a meaningful connection with everyone. The problem now is Easterby’s presence has become an issue for the Texans. Even for people who have never met him.
His job was spared — for now — because the team hired Nick Caserio, a friend of his, as general manager. Well played.
Coaching candidates, who before would never have been concerned about someone with Easterby’s title, have been curious about his responsibilities.
They want to know: Who is he? What does he do?
Caserio has told them there are no worries and that the media have overblown Easterby’s influence.
Watson is working off the old Texans. Caserio has been here just two weeks.
When he hires a head coach, the direction of the organization will come into focus.
Wednesday’s prayer meeting could change everything.