"There is zero leadership. Nobody wants to step up and take charge of anything. It’s rough. That is why they have the stuff they did. I still love those guys. Maybe they made mistakes, everybody does. I’m not putting those people down at all. They are still my good friends. Things are going to happen and as a team they need somebody to step up.
It’s one of those things where every now and then you may say something to a teammate, and it may make them mad, but when they sit down and think about it they know it was sincere and it wasn’t getting on your ass. A lot of these guys don’t want to speak up, they just want to blend in with the crowd. They want to be cool with their teammates, instead of getting on them and getting something going."
On the whole, we agree with you. There isn't any leadership on this team. This team clearly lacks that one guy who's willing to put the team on his back and be the face of the team. It's pretty apparent. It's an easy thing to say, too, when your team is coming off of a 4-8 season, and there have been major changes to the coaching staff in the past few months. Frankly, it's counterproductive. But let's be real for a second.
It was supposed to be you.
Typically, the quarterback is that leader, and for a season, you had us fooled into believing that you were going to slide right into Andy Dalton's place. But then came the admission of drug use, the DUI, the letdown. When you did that, you forfeited your right to make any sort of claims about this team's leadership. The guy who got a DUI two days before TCU's inaugural Big 12 home game, and sullied the team's confidence in the process, is in no position to say this.
It was supposed to be you.
And not to mention that you said these things after this school gave you a second chance that no one outside TCU thought you deserved. We're all for second chances and second chances certainly don't inhibit your right to speak your mind, but it should absolutely creep into your thought process before you answer when someone, especially that specific someone, clearly asks a pointed, leading question to illicit an inflammatory response.
Touching on 2013 a moment more, where was your leadership this past season? Did that Southeastern Louisiana player break your spirit when he broke your arm? Did your injury render your mouth useless? How did you mentor Boykin this year, when, for the second season in a row he was cast into the fire?
You were the leader we were looking for.
We were big believers in you, both the first and second time around, and we know you probably didn't mean any harm when you came out and said this. You probably thought it would inspire a guy or two to step up. Maybe it will. We'll have to wait until spring practice and beyond to see. But for now, it's the final stroke of the pen on a tainted legacy.
So good luck, Casey. Good luck on your bid to make it to the NFL. Good luck on your quest to remain sober. Good luck in life. We wish you well.
Good luck, Casey. But we're moving on now.
Jamie Plunkett and Marshall Weber both contributed to this piece.