The Rise of C.J. Stroud: A Rookie Leader Emerges
Initially, C.J. Stroud’s screams echoed in a void. The silence that filled the locker room was palpable, a stunned quiet that blanketed the aftermath of a disheartening defeat. This rookie, just two weeks into his NFL journey, was calling out not just his teammates but the entire team. “Where are my leaders at?!?” Stroud demanded, capturing the attention of everyone in the home locker room at NRG Stadium. “I need some leaders! Right now! Where they at? Speak up!”
The Texans were 0-2, having just suffered a devastating loss to the Colts on their home turf. For a franchise that had not surpassed four wins in three consecutive seasons, the atmosphere was grim. “We got waxed that day,” recalls tight end Brevin Jordan, “and we all wondered, ‘Are we going to endure another one of those seasons again?’” Stroud was furious—not just about the loss but about the silence that surrounded him in the wake of defeat.
This moment occurred last September, six weeks before Stroud would set a record for most passing yards in a single game for a rookie and four months before he would become the youngest quarterback in NFL history to claim a playoff victory. It was before the belief in Houston began to solidify, before the league recognized that this team was not merely on the rise—it was accelerating rapidly.
Few inside the organization envisioned such a swift and dramatic turnaround. However, in the NFL, the margins are razor-thin, and sometimes the trajectory of a season can hinge on a singular moment—like when a rookie summons the courage to disrupt the silence of a somber locker room, altering how his teammates perceive both him and themselves.
“Some people needed to be called out. The captains needed to be called out,” notes defensive end Will Anderson Jr., who, like Stroud, was a rookie captain at the time. Jimmie Ward, a veteran safety acquired from San Francisco that spring, observed the scene from across the room. He sat at his stall, sidelined by injury, wrestling with the decision of whether it was appropriate to chastise his new teammates while wearing street clothes.
Once Stroud finished his passionate outburst, Ward approached him. “You’re a rookie,” he said, “and that took some guts.”
The Texans were beginning to understand that the composed kid exuding California cool also possessed an intense competitive side. They subsequently won their next two games by a combined 44 points.
Training Camp: The Quest for Improvement
Fast forward to early August. On a high school field outside of Cleveland, not long after a training camp session has concluded and two days before the Texans face the Steelers in a preseason matchup, Nico Collins is diligently working on the JUGS machine. While most of his teammates have hopped on the bus back to the hotel, a handful linger on the sidelines. Collins, however, is focused and alone.
Standing eight feet from the machine, he jogs in place, anticipating the next football to be launched his way. Snap. He snatches it with one hand, showing remarkable skill. Snap. Another catch, and he taps his feet down as if he were inches from the sideline. He counts in his head, approaching 20 consecutive catches without a drop. Snap.
What may seem exceedingly challenging—what is exceedingly challenging—Collins is determined to make second nature. “Man,” he reflects moments later, shaking his head, “C.J. was intense with us today.”
The practice had been rough. The offense struggled, with Stroud missing throws and throwing interceptions. Receivers ran routes too early or too late, and the defense thrived, reveling in their dominance. Following one of his interceptions, Stroud slammed his towel to the ground in frustration. He then gathered his offensive unit.
“Slow it down!” Collins remembers Stroud shouting in the huddle. “How many times have we run this play? How many times? Now lock in.”
This fiery side of Stroud had only recently come to light after his initial outburst following the early-season loss to the Colts last year. His typically laid-back demeanor concealed a competitive edge that he had always carried with him—and now he was displaying it more openly as a leader.
He doesn’t unleash this intensity frequently, preferring to pick his moments wisely. But when he does, his teammates can feel the heat. Quarterbacks seldom find success in this league by being overly polite. “Oh, he’ll snap at us,” Collins admits. “Way more than you might expect.”
Stefon Diggs, the team’s high-profile offseason addition, experienced this intensity firsthand during the season opener in Indianapolis. “At practice, you see glimpses of it,” Diggs commented after catching two touchdown passes. “He’ll sprinkle a little emotion on you, he’ll challenge you a bit. But when it’s game time, he’s the real deal.”
Expectations and New Challenges
This intensity is crucial, Diggs emphasized. Every player on the offense is aware of the expectations set forth by Stroud. “He makes it easy to be a receiver,” Diggs added.
Diggs’ arrival this spring, along with the signings of running back Joe Mixon and defensive end Danielle Hunter, signaled a clear message: the Texans are ready to compete. The previous season’s 10-7 record and surprising playoff run were enough to end the drawn-out rebuilding phase.
The window had opened. They weren’t going to linger. With Stroud still on his rookie contract, Houston aimed to capitalize on this opportunity in the competitive AFC.
Stroud embraced the hype as training camp commenced in late July, fully aware that the spotlight shines brightest on teams that matter. “Pressure is a privilege,” he often states, a lesson learned during his time at Ohio State. The Buckeyes faced their opponents’ best efforts every single week. He understands that Houston isn’t flying under anyone’s radar in 2024.
With this attention comes the weight of expectation—a burden that has derailed many teams that believed they were prepared to contend, only to discover they were far from ready. “We have that big red target on our backs,” Stroud acknowledges. “That’s something we didn’t have last year.”
Last season, the Texans had no nationally televised regular-season games; this year, they have five lined up, including a high-profile Christmas Day matchup against the Ravens, the team that eliminated them from the playoffs in January. Season tickets sold out by July, a first for the franchise in five years. Heading into Week 1, only five teams had better Super Bowl odds. Stroud currently has the fourth-shortest odds for MVP.
So much has transformed for this city, this franchise, and this quarterback in just a year.
“It’s not going to be easy. It’s going to be harder,” Stroud insists. “That’s how it should be.”
The First Test: A Battle for Victory
The journey commenced on a Sunday in Indianapolis. The Colts were desperate to secure a win—they hadn’t celebrated a Week 1 victory since 2013 and hadn’t claimed an AFC South title since 2014. Presently, Houston stands as Indy’s most significant obstacle.
In the first quarter, Colts quarterback Anthony Richardson executed a stunning throw, perhaps the best of the game. But with just two minutes remaining in the fourth quarter, C.J. Stroud made the throw that sealed the victory.
A false start transformed a third-and-6 into a third-and-11. Leading by two points, the Texans needed a conversion to prevent Richardson from getting another opportunity. After the snap, Collins drifted toward the sideline, closely guarded by Colts cornerback Jaylon Jones.
If there was a window to throw through, Stroud might have been the only person in Lucas Oil Stadium to perceive it. The coverage was exceptional.
Stroud released the ball. Jones got a fingertip on it, but Collins maintained his focus—the result of countless hours on the JUGS machine—and somehow made the catch. He secured it, getting a foot down, followed by a knee. What appeared insurmountably challenging became instinctive.
After one more run from Mixon, the game was over. Following the 29-27 win, Stroud was asked about the completion to Collins. How did he manage to fit it in there?
He grinned, recalling an old saying from Peyton Manning: “There’s no defense for the perfect throw.”
Reflection and Growth
Just nine months earlier, after the divisional playoff game in Baltimore, Stroud stood at a lectern on the ground floor of M&T Bank Stadium, dressed in a sweatsuit, beanie, and Asics running shoes. That day marked his first lesson on the brutal reality of postseason football. A tie game at halftime had spiraled into a crushing 34-10 defeat.
“It’s tough getting embarrassed like that,” Stroud reflected, his drained expression revealing his exhaustion. “I’ve been going hard since I was about 12 years old—AAU tournaments, baseball, football, 7-on-7, high school. It’s been a blessing. It’s been a blast. I’m 22 years old, and this is my first time experiencing freedom away from school and college.”
The rapid ascent had consumed him; he had never paused to catch his breath. The cramped apartment 40 miles east of Los Angeles, where he lived with his mother and siblings, where he wept after receiving his first Division 1 offer, felt like a distant memory. Then came Ohio State, the draft, the S2 drama, training camp, the season—and now, at just 22, he was already a prominent figure in the league, a quarterback some believed could accomplish what Josh Allen and Lamar Jackson have yet to achieve: defeating Patrick Mahomes in the playoffs.
But first, before embarking on the next phase of his career, Stroud needed a break. And so he took it. He participated in the Pro Bowl, visited media row at the Super Bowl to analyze his own film, engaged in podcasts, and even shared the game of football with high school students in China during an Asian tour alongside Cowboys edge rusher Micah Parsons. He threw the first pitch at a baseball game in Japan, and even had a unique experience training—well, sort of training—with sumo wrestlers.
By spring, Stroud couldn’t resist reigniting the text thread he used to share film clips with teammates last season. Soon, the Texans’ skill position players, including Diggs, were gathering for throwing sessions in Los Angeles, Miami, and finally, Houston. “Come on, you know who organized those,” receiver Tank Dell remarked. “Of course, it was 7.”
Defensive coordinator Matt Burke recognized Stroud’s curiosity and urgency after just one practice last year. Following his initial interception, Stroud sought out Burke, eager to understand how he had successfully disguised the coverage. The young quarterback was determined to avoid repeating that mistake. Burke was astonished by Stroud’s dedication. “I was like, ‘Are you kidding?’” Burke recalls. “You love that. That desire to learn is so crucial.”
Danielle Hunter, the experienced defensive end who joined the team through free agency that spring, observed Stroud’s unshakeable composure in the pocket throughout training camp. He navigated his reads without rushing and without panic—a vulnerability that seasoned players like Hunter often exploit. “He just doesn’t flinch under pressure, even when defenders are closing in,” Hunter noted. “If it’s not there, he doesn’t attempt to play superhero. You have no idea how significant that is for a guy his age.”
The reality is, Stroud can perform superhero feats. He captured the Offensive Rookie of the Year title by showcasing that talent. While Richardson’s jaw-dropping 60-yard bomb on Sunday stole the spotlight, Stroud made a remarkable 55-yard completion in the second quarter that, according to Next Gen Stats, was the most improbable throw of his brief career. Two Colts defenders were within a yard of Collins as the ball approached.
Stroud discovered the opening—somehow. When it comes to deep passes, few quarterbacks in the league can match his skill. “It just feels so natural, so easy for him,” Collins says of his quarterback.
“It may look easy, but it’s anything but,” Stroud emphasized.
And the challenges won’t ease up any time soon. Stroud understands that the innocence of his rookie season has vanished. Now, he must win. The Texans’ first primetime game of the 2024 season will take place on Sunday night against the Bears, presenting another opportunity to evaluate whether they are prepared to rise to the occasion. The same goes for the quarterback.
Stroud appears to embrace this challenge, consistently returning to his favorite term: pressure. He refuses to view it negatively, and his journey indicates he never has. “We welcome that pressure, and we crave that pressure,” he states confidently. “There’s no real reward without pressure.”
(Illustration: Dan Goldfarb / The Athletic; photo: Tim Warner / Getty Images)
