FOXBOROUGH, Mass. – Goliath lost. That’s what will drive the Texans. That’s what MUST drive the Texans.
As the Texans return to the belly of the beast, to a place where too many sleepless nights to count were triggered, no adjective is too much.
Crucial. Far-reaching. Momentous.
A pre-season game? Pssh. No such thing exists for this team and this first-year head coach.
DeMeco Ryans will swarm, he will raise the curtain on a new era, a new time, a new kind of message the likes of which the NFL never has seen before. This is the Texans’ NFL this season and it starts here. Now.
Unimportant? Dress rehearsal? Please.
Every rep is important for an organization fresh off the throes of ignominy the likes of which kept seven million thirsty fans up nights for years. The Sydney Opera House, or The Met – dare I say The Globe – are theaters that should hope for plays as important and compelling as what will unfold when the Texans trot the boards of Gilette Stadium tonight.
You can have The Marriage Of Figaro. I’ll take the marriage of DeMeco, Bobby Slowik, C.J. Stroud, Will Anderson and the start of a run that would make Hamilton blush.
Here we are and here we go. Texans-Patriots.
Pity Goliath. Dance in the streets. Stand in awe.
Bravo, Texans. It begins in the only place it should begin – in New England.
The king is dead. Long live the new kings.
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