The face of the franchise has been unceremoniously usurped. A beloved and dependable veteran offensive lineman has been released.

It feels cold and businesslike, because it is. What it isn't is anything new. It's not new for the the NFL in general, and it's certainly not for the Houston Texans. What they've done this week isn't some brave new world ushered in by coach Bill O'Brien in his second year with the franchise. It's what happens when certain players, even players who have done a lot for a franchise, age and their teams are ready for change.

Would the previous regime have been so ruthless? Their history indicates they would have.

They traded inside linebacker DeMeco Ryans in 2012, a team captain in every sense of the word, searching for a better fit in Wade Phillips system. They cut right tackle Eric Winston that same year, without a clear replacement in line. Former Texans coach Gary Kubiak told Winston the Texans were having problems with the salary cap.

Quarterback David Carr was certainly not the caliber player Andre Johnson has been, but one year after getting a three-year extension and a public vote of confidence from Kubiak, the Texans released him. It was Kubiak's second offseason as the Texans' head coach.

When a player no longer fits with a team's plan for any reason -- age, declining ability, an inflated salary cap number, system fit, a combination of those factors -- teams move on.

The Colts released one of the greatest quarterbacks to ever play the game, when they had their succession plan in place. Peyton Manning went on to success in Denver, but the Colts began what will be a fruitful Andrew Luck era. The Ravens let one of the league's best safeties ever depart in free agency when they (correctly) identified that his play had fallen. Ed Reed then came to Houston and was benched in favor of Shiloh Keo. The Green Bay Packers moved on from Brett Favre. The Dallas Cowboys moved on from Emmitt Smith. The San Francisco 49ers moved on from Joe Montana and Jerry Rice. The list is long.

The end is often ugly when teams are finished with great players. Many say they understand the business, but it's more difficult to keep a level head when the business side turns on you.

Johnson's situation is unique for the Texans, but that is not a function of The O'Brien Way. It's a function of timing.

Never at any other point in the Texans history was Johnson a 33-year-old receiver whose production had steadily declined over the past two seasons. In 2014, Johnson's yards per catch and yards per game were the lowest they'd been since 2005. For a franchise that has played only 13 seasons, Johnson is it. He was the franchise's only icon for so long, joined by J.J. Watt in the past few years. This is the first of these for the Texans, but it won't be the last. And it won't get easier for fans to bear.

But it is not unique to the NFL, or unique to this particular Texans regime. It's simply a sign of a franchise aging into it's next era.