The Texans defense could become legendary. How they’ll do it is their real magic

It was August in Houston, and the air was so hot and dense and still that it pressed against the lively talk throughout the Texans’ defense, shaping their language into secrets only they know.

Coordinator Matt Burke, the defensive signal caller, took his spot along the sideline. Behind his graying beard, his expression crackled between a scowl and a mad grin. Players’ jerseys and pads were soaked with sweat. Droplets of it scattered across the grass like shiny little seeds with their movements. Head coach DeMeco Ryans stood calmly near one end zone, monitoring. Every player and coach seemed aware of where he was, and he of them.

The Raiders were in town for a joint practice. Per the two teams’ rules of engagement — and the NFL’s own — the players couldn’t fully tackle each other but instead had to execute what is called “thud”-tackling, meaning some contact is allowed but not the punishing, rip-to-the-earth physicality the Texans defense has become known for.

But removing full force only revealed more intricate, exceptional details of a defense that combines power and control like few can. Houston practiced at full speed, yet to a player the defenders had such mastery over their bodies and thus their impact that it felt like some sort of sleight-of-hand trick as to where the leftover kinetic energy disappeared. Their defensive linemen, captained by star edge rusher Will Anderson Jr., exploded off the line of scrimmage and visibly stressed out both Las Vegas quarterback Kirk Cousins, a veteran, and the rookie No. 1 pick, Fernando Mendoza. Versatile slot defender Jalen Pitre circled formations and dove into plays like a hornet, at one point escorting a larger ball carrier to the sideline and out of bounds in a manner that looked genuinely polite, even as it was clear that the player was helpless to redirect. Even as Texans players thud-tackled, more than once a defender flipped his body at contact and released his opponent so he, not they, would tumble to the grass.

It wasn’t just that the talent differential was so stark between the Texans, a Super Bowl contender, and the rebuilding Raiders; it was the way they handled the practice. It was downright professional, and nearly unexplainable. How can people that size move like that by themselves, let alone in concert?

They are different. They know it. And after the Texans’ defense spent an offseason following a nearly perfect year studying, nitpicking and speaking to what they are, they also know what they want to become next.

In a defensive meeting during training camp, Burke retold a story that was told by British explorer Louis Rudd, the second person to ski solo across Antarctica.

Rudd explained that he always took 11 extra steps at the end of each travel day in honor of the infamous Terra Nova expedition — in which one of two groups competing to arrive at the South Pole not only fell short of the other by 34 days, but also tragically perished on the return journey just 11 miles from an outpost that could have saved them. Rudd said the 11 steps represented a calculation often discussed among voyagers: that with just 11 extra steps per day, that historic travel party may have reached its destination.

“Can we take these next 11 (steps)?” Burke said. “Can you watch one more clip? Can you take two extra minutes to figure something out? Can you ask a question? Whatever those 11 steps are, can you not go to bed at the end of the day without making sure you take those steps? You don’t know (what it will lead to). But can you ensure that you’re not short (of what) is there?”

Burke, who has been Houston’s defensive coordinator since 2023, is a long-distance hiker and mountain climber in his off time. He has summited Mount Kilimanjaro and the Grand Teton, including true rock climbing areas where he had to be roped into part of his ascent and rappel for part of his descent. He has climbed 20,000 feet up Mount Everest; he once backpacked through the Gobi Desert.

“I like being out in the vastness of things,” he said. “And then there’s the goal achievement.”

Burke doesn’t hike specifically to come up with motivational ideas for his players, but he brings some back to them anyway. After Kilimanjaro, he told players what it felt like to see a false peak.

“We made the playoffs the last three years. … Won the first game, then lost in the divisional round,” he said. “I’m like, ‘hey man, there’s this false summit. You’re summiting Kilimanjaro, and all you see is the rim of the crater. … You get up there and you think it’s over. … You still have to hike the f—ing rest of the rim and up the actual summit. It’s a mindf—.

“So, we’ve hit this false summit before. What are we doing (next)?”

The Texans were all over Patriots quarterback Drake Maye during a playoff game last season. (David Butler II / Imagn Images)

The Texans defense is very clear on what it is and how it will attack. That is the key word: They run an attacking defensive front, which means they do not acquiesce to what an offense is trying to get them to read in a play.

“We want to dictate. Defenses, by nature, are reactionary,” Burke said. “The way we play our front is an attempt to be a little more proactive, be on the front foot. You have to react to what we’re doing. We’re not reading blocks. We’re getting off (the line of scrimmage), and you better be ready for us.”

Typically, a high-level compliment for a secondary is that it plays “on a line,” meaning each player’s movements correspond to another in a constant ripple effect. But in Houston, that extends to the inside linebackers, flows inward to the defensive tackles and rolls outward to the edge rushers, too. Pitre switches to a linebacker role in run support and can still cover bigger players from the slot, but the cornerbacks can swing down to tackle, too, if an offense tries to divert its plays away from the defensive line. They can transform their various coverages around their front in an instant, and at game speed — playing slightly varying shades of a coverage an opponent thinks it has studied, but that suddenly feels different.

“The things that we adjust and (when we) tweak rules, ‘can we buy a little bit of a tick (of hesitation)’? Maybe you think it’s quarters, but it’s not quite the same quarters that you saw on tape last week,” Burke said. “When you figure it out, Will Anderson has won his (pass rush). … Or do we get a little indecisiveness, (the quarterback) takes the checkdown and then you’re just there to tackle.”

They are emotionally connected, smart, fast and physical. They show who they are by how they play. Kamari Lassiter, a starting cornerback, itches so badly to get into the run game that sometimes it looks as if an outside force is magnetically pulling him to the action. Pitre, a team captain, is equal parts emotion and control — a player who “completely gives of himself” to the game, said Burke. “He exposes his soul.” Anderson Jr. is the thermostat. Players and coaches say, “however Will decides a practice will go, that’s how it will go.”

Their common language is perfectionism. Each player on the Texans defense is so detailed, so specific in how he can communicate his role that sometimes Ryans has them lead team meetings and film study.

In last year’s ugly divisional round loss to New England, Houston’s offense gained just 241 yards and turned the ball over five times, including four interceptions (one returned for a touchdown). Coaches remember Lassiter voicing his displeasure afterward — with himself. He had been targeted eight times by Patriots quarterback Drake Maye, breaking up three passes and only allowing two catches for 27 yards. To a typical observer, the Texans’ offense lost the game. But Lassiter was angry with himself for not impacting it more with a takeaway. In the offseason, defensive players and coaches identified one to three plays per game where they felt they could have made a small adjustment in call or technique. This, from a defense that finished the season No. 2 in success rate and No. 3 in EPA per snap.

Around the building, others — quarterback C.J. Stroud, offensive coordinator Nick Caley, the offensive line, the receivers and running backs, even the front office — were publicly and privately accountable for their part in the team falling short. Instead of wallowing, they were solution-oriented: general manager Nick Caserio and his executive team retooled the O-line again, traded for talented running back David Montgomery and were proactive in adding more receiving depth following an injury in camp. Coaches saw a different edge to Stroud; the typically calm young quarterback pushed himself and his teammates harder and, the Houston Chronicle reported, he led offensive meetings during which he had cut-ups prepared of what they did right and where they could improve – just like some of the defensive players do.

“Our guys are all chasing excellence, perfection,” said Dino Vasso, the Texans’ meticulous, soft-spoken defensive backs coach. “They are self-motivated; we don’t have to push them in that way. We coach technique. But we don’t coach effort. It’s just a non-negotiable in the building.”

It is rare that perfectionism doesn’t feel clenching or smothering. For the defense, the idea of being “perfect” isn’t about a result, but a process. No defensive back will ever have a season in which he allows zero completions. In Houston, that defensive back instead sees the tiniest of technical adjustments he can make when covering a specific route. He speaks aloud where he can make that change. Then, he applies it.

“In my opinion, everything adds up in the end,” said Pitre, describing this process. “It’s like, ‘how many things can I do right?’ Obviously there will be some wrong things. But how many things can I add up to where I look at it, in the end, and I’m in the positive? … I try to stack as many as I can. (Then) I don’t have to think about it. Now, it’s like we’re in what we call flow state. Now greatness is just happening. But it didn’t just happen overnight, or by coincidence. A lot of stuff piled up. (And) it all matters.”

Burke is big on speaking things into existence. “We’re in this together,” he said. “It’s OK to say what we’re striving for; here are the day-to-day steps toward doing it.”

The walkthroughs are high-level — a “sacred” time, Pitre called them. Ryans, a defensive head coach who was well-regarded as a defensive coordinator in part because of how competitive he could make a practice, allows both the starting offense and the defense to be active in evenly split walkthrough periods. Texans defenders are even allowed to pick off the quarterback in defensive periods, which isn’t always the case around the league. The players move crisply even though a walkthrough is designed to be a non-contact and slower-paced session built for strategy. They coach each other and constantly seek feedback from coaches.

The Texans’ defensive stars say they enjoy being coached, and celebrating each other. (Thomas Shea / Imagn Images)

“It’s a really special group of guys. Because we’re putting these standards, goals, hopes and dreams out there, they’re not afraid to hold themselves to that. They don’t get their feathers ruffled when (they are corrected) in a practice,” Burke said.

They can handle and even bond over feedback because of their kinship. In the quieter moments before walkthroughs begin, Lassiter and his fellow cornerbacks frequently play a game where they stand in a wide triangle and try to hurl a football past each other or at specific spots on the field and dissolve into laughter the moment the game begins. When the whistle signals the start of that day’s session, the players visibly snap into focus, not needing to say a word to one another as they man their positions and redirect their energy.

When Ryans became the Texans head coach in 2023 — with Houston improving from three wins to 10 during his inaugural season — he influenced how Caserio and the scouting and talent acquisition departments began to identify players.

All coaches use acronyms to communicate their priorities for an organization; Ryans’ is SWARM (Special Work Ethic and Relentless Mindset). The Texans believe they’ve actually found a way to scout it. They look for defensive players who gravitate toward being in stressful environments, including the differences on tape between “have-to” tackling corners, for example, and “want-to” tackling corners. They look for an obsession with improving. They scout self-awareness, especially when they speak directly to prospective players during the draft or free-agency interview process.

“They know their strengths and where they fit,” Vasso said. “Self-awareness is not something you can teach. You can’t quantify it. … If you’re not self-aware, it’s hard to improve.”

In Ryans’ first draft class as head coach in 2023, Houston selected Stroud at No. 2 overall and then traded up to get Anderson at No. 3. That pick elicited raised eyebrows from some draft analysts as an “overpay” (Houston sent that year’s No. 12 and 33 picks and first- and third-round picks in 2024 to move up). Anderson, though, graded out at the very top of all of the Texans’ quantifiable and intangible evaluation areas. Ryans and the executives were totally convicted, saw Anderson as a force multiplier as both a player and a person and acted accordingly. Now, the team captain is among the best in the NFL at his position and a franchise pillar (with a new contract to match).

After a few seasons developing younger picks and retaining more veterans, the Texans have rare continuity and stars at every level of the defense. Reed Blankenship, a fifth-year safety, is the only new starter. Eight others have been together for at least two consecutive seasons. Captain Azeez Al-Shaair, a linebacker and former undrafted free agent who signed his first contract with the Texans in 2024 after previously playing for Ryans in San Francisco, signed a contract extension this summer. So did veteran pass-rusher Danielle Hunter, who also joined the Texans in 2024. The front office and coaching staff know that keeping together the core they built could lead them into special, deep postseason air.

“You’ve got guys that are fiery, outgoing. You have guys who are more reserved and chill. Then you’ve got guys in the middle; it all meshes so well,” Pitre said. “It turns into one masterpiece. It’s beautiful. I’m just trying to be present. … I want to be present every day, be grounded with the time that I have in this perfect space.”

On the first day of training camp, Burke passed out note cards to every Texans defensive player as their opening meeting began.

Write down what you want this defense to be, he instructed. They were to keep it anonymous and exclude personal goals.

“It could be a characteristic, a style, a statistic,” said Burke. “This is your defense. What do you want it to be known for, remembered for?”

Every player wrote one thing down. Burke collected them all into a pile and kept them in his office all summer, sometimes reading through them late at night or early in the mornings before practices began. He’d sort them into categories: Some players wanted to be the No. 1 defense, or the top-scoring defense. Others were more stylistic in their word choice; they wanted to be “violent” or “physical” or “relentless.” And there were many who were already of one mind, who considered a larger legacy. They used words like “generational” or “unforgettable.”

“There is some value to putting goals out there, putting it into the air,” said Burke. For the Texans defense, the magic is in how players and coaches make those words real.

Especially over the last season and into this summer’s training camp, Burke has discussed with players the defenses that became the stuff of legend — of football spirituality and mysticism. The Steel Curtain; the Legion of Boom. The 2000 Ravens. The 1985 and ‘86 Bears.

“The dreams of what we think we can achieve as a defense shouldn’t be limited,” Burke said. Before those teams became what they were, they talked about what control they had over their becoming.

Burke has since compiled his players’ comments into a video the defense can watch before its first game on Sunday. He plans to share the notecards with players, too. They are tarot cards written in their own language, foretelling a potential they must create. The kind that turns an exceptional defense into history.