That electric 37-yard touchdown Dalton Schultz hauled in during last year’s Wild Card game against Cleveland? The one where he split the seam, left defenders grasping at air, and sent NRG Stadium into a frenzy? That play was a flicker of the Pro Bowl–caliber tight end CJ Stroud’s Houston thought they’d signed to a $36 million deal. But fast forward to today, and Schultz finds himself caught between fading counting stats and a rookie phenom breathing down his neck.

As Cody Stoots bluntly put it: “Look, the counting stats weren’t way down, but they weren’t nearly as good as they had been.” Schultz’s 2024 line—53 catches, 532 yards, 2 TDs—was his worst output since becoming a starter. Even worse? His pass blocking cratered to dead–last among NFL tight ends with 50+ reps, per PFF. “It was really bad,” Stoots emphasized. “It didn’t look good out there.” Well, he is right.

Why the nosedive? Picture Schultz as a knight wearing ill-fitted armor. Houston’s offensive line surrendered 54 sacks (3rd–most in NFL), forcing Schultz into mismatches he never should’ve faced. “The offensive line was not very good,” Stoots noted, “which kept things from maybe developing for Schultz when he had to run routes. And then it put him in a position to block when he shouldn’t have been blocking.” Isolated against elite edge rushers like Maxx Crosby or TJ Watt, Schultz looked less like a $12 million weapon and more like a sacrificial lamb.

But here’s where the plot twists: Enter Cade Stover, Houston’s 4th-round draft pick out of Ohio State. At 6’4″, 255 lbs, with vice-grip hands and a bulldozer’s mentality, Stover isn’t just depth—he’s a direct challenge. He’s the shiny new toy in OC Nick Caley’s toolbox, a coach renowned for maximizing tight ends (see: Gronkowski, Higbee). Suddenly, Schultz isn’t just battling his own regression; he’s fending off a rookie forged in CJ Stroud’s college crucible.

The path to redemption in CJ Stroud’s ground

Schultz’s saving grace? His hands. Just 2 drops on 88 targets in 2024—a stat that screams reliability. As one AFC scout raved: “He’s just an all-around good player, consistent, blocks, can make contested receptions. He affects winning.” And Stroud knows it. During June minicamp, the duo connected for multiple red-zone touchdowns, a hint of rekindled chemistry.

But hope isn’t a scheme. Caley must engineer Schultz’s revival like a chess master:

• Shelter him in protection (no more 1-on-1s vs. Myles Garrett)
• Leverage his seam-stretching IQ (see: 2021’s 78/808/8 explosion in Dallas)
• Unleash him as Stroud’s safety blanket (especially on 3rd-and-6)

“The Texans could really use that [top-10] guy,” stressed Stoots, “because last season, they got a not top-20 performance… There were probably 20 tight ends that played better without an argument.” With Schultz’s 2026 cap hit ($14 M) and minimal dead money ($2.5 M), speculation swirls. Could contenders like Kansas City (post-Kelce?) or Washington come calling? Schultz himself brushed off the noise, telling media: “I’m here to win. We’ve got unfinished business.” But in the NFL, business is always fluid.

Schultz’s 2025 fate hinges on Caley’s ingenuity. Use him like Gronk in a tailored system—not a Swiss Army knife duct-taped to fix broken protection. As Stoots warned: “Hope’s not a strategy though, so you better have a good one for Schultz.”

If Caley recalibrates the playbook, Schultz could resurge as Stroud’s silent assassin. If not? Houston’s $36 M investment risks becoming expensive nostalgia. For Schultz, this season isn’t about highlights—it’s about resurrection. And in Houston, redemption stories always play better than rebuilds.