September 19, 2005
Straight to the Moon
by Keith Weiland
NASA unveiled plans today to send men back to the moon. What was left unsaid in the press release was the identification of the crew –- the 2005 Texans.
Oh yes, the Texans are circling the black hole. About the only thing astronomical with this team is the spaced out look Dom Capers has on his face every Sunday.
(Unconfirmed rumor of the day: Hollywood is finishing off the script for a film based on when the Texans will find their way into a respectable orbit, giving the project a working title of 2010: The Year We Make .500.)
(The Advance Scout as armchair cast director: Maybe they could wheel out Roy Scheider playing the role of Capers to reel off such gems as “We need a bigger boat in the backfield” and “Astrodome? You can’t grow a good hotdog indoors.” Just a thought. Hopefully by then Capers will have discovered a 21st century offense, but honestly, the search for Spock in Star Trek III was more interesting than the first half against the Steelers on Sunday.)
Once Apollo XXVIII-VII finally touches down on the lunar surface, maybe the weightless environment the moon offers will add some buoyancy to a unit that has been grounded here on Planet Earth. The moon is at least likely to be a place where the interstellar Texans fans outnumber those terrible towel-waving Steeler fans, something that might not be said for Sunday at Reliant Stadium.
So in the wake of his team’ 0-2 start against two of the best defenses in the league, Capers finally made one giant leap for Texan-kind in asking Palmer to take one small step down from his play-calling duties. I guess if NASA is asking for a sacrificial monkey to send up on the next Sputnik, Capers is in effect telling Palmer to get ready for his astronaut flightsuit fitting.
Firing Palmer though isn’t the cure for what ails this team. The problems go much deeper than the plays he called on Sundays. Though ripping out that page of the playbook named The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Double Reverse is a step in the right direction at least.
It seems what was once built on a sturdy foundation now is teetering ominously around a giant sinkhole. Faith in the team’s star baby, David Carr, is under serious question. He had three too many Close Encounters of the Polamalu kind on Sunday, so who could blame him if he started fashioning Devils Tower out of his wife’s mashed potatoes at dinner last night.
Outside of drafting Dunta Robinson, general manager Charley Casserly’s moves over the past two years appear to be aborted efforts. It seems like a long, long time ago when all was right with the Texans’ universe. Combine that with the decision to open the Reliant Stadium roof to expose fans to the sun’s ultra-violet (ultra-violent?) rays, and this team could not be doing any more to further alienate its fans.
The force is not strong with this team, and Monday’s film session was probably as hairy as a wookiee with an afro. I’ve got a bad feeling about this, indeed.
Keith Weiland would like to send the 2005 Texans to infinity and beyond. 2010: Dom Capers Home