Brothers and sisters! After a brief respite spent in quiet contemplation of our loving football lord and savior, Bob the Father, I can report to you, my flock of Texans faithful, that everything this season has gone perfectly and according to the wishes of our most wise and benevolent football God. Let us rejoice! For our team has received the unending favor of our Lord, and he does smile his warm smile down upon us all and his favorite team!
Today, though, friends, I wanted to talk to you about something important, one of the most important pillars of the culture of the Houston Texans. And that is piety. Piety is a small word with an enormous meaning the likes of which even I can’t fully comprehend. But piety is vital. It’s pietal, you might say. Hehe hehee.
Um, anyway my point is that in order for our culture here to fully blossom and spread and germinate and a whole buncha other flowery terms, the team must express a deep and sincere sense of piety. Which is what our safety Justin Reid failed to do before last Sunday’s game against the blasphemous Jets. His horrific contempt toward our hardworking coaches was a grievous lapse in the piety we expect from our players. Brother Reid must understand that his talent is secondary to us compared to the degree of sincerely held piety he must hold for our enlightened leadership, for our coaches, and for our fans...although we can skip over that last part. Don’t nobody around here give a single golly darn about fans at all.
I apologize for the salty language there, but we must strive to be honest as well as pious.
So while we work tirelessly, gaining little more than several hundreds of thousands, if not millions, of dollars a year, building out our grand design for the team, it is incumbent upon you, our loyal followers, and our devoted team to maintain the faith against all obstacles, against all heretics, against all the would-be sinners who befoul our Texans!
A culture does not form overnight. It takes time for a single, dedicated cell to spread the word of our team and our culture far and wide until we cover the bottom of a petri dish with nothing but happy and productive liberty white, battle red, and deep steel blue bacteria. We cannot achieve this without your support and your absolute, undying, and, above all, unquestioning faith and piety.
Here endeth the lesson.
Open your playbooks to the Book of Cal, Chapter 11, Verse 6. It’s the only one that’s not written in crayon with half the letters backwards.
And it came to be that I asked my heavenly father, “Father, why, therefore, must I go out and find work when I can sit in my beanbag chair and play Halo all day like I have previously?” The voice of Bob fell like righteous thunder and said, “Cal, thou shalt be king someday of a great and proud nation. They will expect you to lead them as I have tried to do.” Cal, forlorn, said, “Canst thou just buy me an MBA and give me a do-nothing job so I can pretend to work? It would be about as effective as if I tried to make an effort of my own.” Bob, thus, smiled and said, “So be it.” And it was so, the MBA was made at the low cost of a massive donation a great hall of learning. With that, Cal smiled unto the heavenly father, said, “Thanks,” and then turned back to his Halo game, muttering an obscenity toward Master Chief.
In the name of McNair the Father, McNair the Son, and the Holy Toro, let us go forth on Sunday and watch our team succeed in further advancing our glorious culture. In all their names, we say, Go Texans!