The 'Boys did not have the year we hoped for, ending with a thorough thrashing at Philly. But let's give the season some context.
At this writing four teams remain in the playoffs, all Cowboy foes this year: Arizona, Baltimore, Philadelphia, and Pittsburgh. Going into the weekend, five of the eight post-season survivors were Dallas opponents; only the Giants were eliminated, by the Iggles.
Much is made of the Cowboys' losing December record these past 11 years, but being America's Team contributes to that statistical notation. The NFL-televising networks love to feature Dallas, no different in 2008. NBC's two top Sunday night audiences were Cowboy games. The #1 ESPN Monday night game showcased Dallas. The top late afternoon rated slot on Fox was a Cowboy contest. What's new?
But in support of these TV ratings, the league back loads the best games. In addition to division foes NY and Philly--predictable late-season must sees--the Ravens and Steelers slid into the December schedule, surprise, surprise. When this kind of scheduling happens year after year, no wonder the Cowboys tend to lose a few in the holiday season.
Other than six division games (still the toughest in football; the Eagles, a 2-4 team within its division, are now one win away from the Super Bowl) and the rotational divisions (AFC north and NFC west in 2008), the other games are filled by formula that dealt the Cowboys a very tough hand, partly because of those 13 wins in 2007. Every expert correctly had the defense-heavy Ravens and Steelers on a short list of Super Bowl possibles. But Green Bay also won 13 last year and Tampa Bay was leading its division when the Romo-less Cowboys beat the Bucs in week eight. While the teams did not meet expectations, the cognoscenti thought Dallas had a tough opening schedule with road games at Cleveland and Green Bay in the first three weeks.
NFL watchers acknowledge the schedule-cycle gauntlet, but when pondering the Cowboys' annual late season fade, take into account the rough road prepared by the league and the networks. It's a factor, as sure as injuries and those locker-room-destabilizing personnel problems.
Monday, January 12, 2009
Wednesday, January 7, 2009
A Letter to Jerry Jones
Eagles 44, Cowboys 6
The worst part of this for a rabid, loyal Cowboy fan of almost 50 years? When you just could not watch any more, the only other game on TV was Jets-Dolphins. The contrast could not have been lost on any football fan.
Miami, winners of one game last year, beat old rival New York on the road to finish 11-5 and AFC east champs. Punching the remote for relief, Cowboy fans found the ultimate joke--a program resurrected by Bill Parcells in less than a year using your spare parts. A team on its way up versus a team on its way down.
Again.
Jerry, I always gave you credit due, even when others did not. You bought the franchise at a low ebb. You made hard decisions. You brought in the right football guy to restore our glory. You won three Super Bowls and put America's Team back in place.
But Jerry, you are the problem, not the solution. It's finally as obvious as the nose on your egotistically reconstructed face.
Jimmy Johnson did in fact engineer those three Super Bowl victories, including 1995. Bill Parcells did what he could to restore order, despite your meddling and massive self worth. Dipstick Barry Switzer was an unthreatening placeholder, reaping the benefits of Jimmy Johnson's work. Ditto for Bill Parcells and Wade Phillips vis-a-vis 13 wins in 2007.
Parcells may have tired of coaching, but he did not leave because he had had enough of football. It appears he had had enough of you. Bill Parcells went and found a better owner, a Clint Murchison. Look what happens when a good, supportive owner finds a good football guy, then steps away.
Jerry, you have proven repeatedly you're a good businessman. You've done it in oil & gas, in real estate, even in one element of pro sports management--the building and marketing of the Cowboys franchise, stadium, etc. But, as much as you want to be, you are not a capable football guy. You cannot pick coaches or players, and you sure as hell can't pick a general manager. Terrell Owens is your nightmare. Pacman Jones is your nightmare. The psychological state of the team we watched implode is your nightmare. The catastrophe of that locker room--and the heart of this team--is your creation, Frankenstein.
The final rending reality for Cowboy fans? There is nothing we can do about this. We, the real Cowboy nation, are stuck with the ultimate ego, on beyond Al Davis. The only two NFL owners who, as Rhett said to Scarlett, throw away happiness with both hands. And spend millions in the process. (OK, maybe Snyder too.)
Al, your unfortunate mentor, can point to his resume and say 'I'm a football guy.' But he's not. He lost that distinction along the ownership way. Al the owner chased away one good football guy after another--Madden, Flores, Shanahan, Shell--because, at the end of the day, it had to be about Al. Al tortured (and wasted) Marcus Allen as a matter of self-centered principle. Like you, he won three Super Bowls despite himself.
It's been 25 years since his last title. You, Jerry, are now at 14 years and counting. You're on the same road, but you're incapable of that one tough decision required to fix the situation--hiring the right general manager and stepping away.
When the Cowboys came to town in 1960, I was 12 growing up in north Dallas. "I'll be a Cowboy fan until the day I die" I've said many, many times. But Jerry, you're losing me...and that's not easy. We the Cowboy nation feel real pain for the franchise builders--Murchison, Schramm, Landry, Lilly, Perkins, Renfro, Staubach, Pearson, Dorsett, and many more. Each knew you had to set aside self to build the best football team on the planet. We feel for the many talented pros on the Cowboys today, the team players, those profoundly frustrated by the lack of intelligent, institutional control, direction, and focus.
When Duane Thomas, starting tailback on a Super Bowl champion team, became a cancer in the locker room, he was gone. Instantly. No room for that on Clint Murchison's Cowboys. Now, we are a franchise out looking for the misfit, the squeaky wheel. The million-dollar head case.
The owner likely has a clue about the problem but he is incapable of fixing it.
January 7, 2009
(1st draft: 12-29-2008)
The worst part of this for a rabid, loyal Cowboy fan of almost 50 years? When you just could not watch any more, the only other game on TV was Jets-Dolphins. The contrast could not have been lost on any football fan.
Miami, winners of one game last year, beat old rival New York on the road to finish 11-5 and AFC east champs. Punching the remote for relief, Cowboy fans found the ultimate joke--a program resurrected by Bill Parcells in less than a year using your spare parts. A team on its way up versus a team on its way down.
Again.
Jerry, I always gave you credit due, even when others did not. You bought the franchise at a low ebb. You made hard decisions. You brought in the right football guy to restore our glory. You won three Super Bowls and put America's Team back in place.
But Jerry, you are the problem, not the solution. It's finally as obvious as the nose on your egotistically reconstructed face.
Jimmy Johnson did in fact engineer those three Super Bowl victories, including 1995. Bill Parcells did what he could to restore order, despite your meddling and massive self worth. Dipstick Barry Switzer was an unthreatening placeholder, reaping the benefits of Jimmy Johnson's work. Ditto for Bill Parcells and Wade Phillips vis-a-vis 13 wins in 2007.
Parcells may have tired of coaching, but he did not leave because he had had enough of football. It appears he had had enough of you. Bill Parcells went and found a better owner, a Clint Murchison. Look what happens when a good, supportive owner finds a good football guy, then steps away.
Jerry, you have proven repeatedly you're a good businessman. You've done it in oil & gas, in real estate, even in one element of pro sports management--the building and marketing of the Cowboys franchise, stadium, etc. But, as much as you want to be, you are not a capable football guy. You cannot pick coaches or players, and you sure as hell can't pick a general manager. Terrell Owens is your nightmare. Pacman Jones is your nightmare. The psychological state of the team we watched implode is your nightmare. The catastrophe of that locker room--and the heart of this team--is your creation, Frankenstein.
The final rending reality for Cowboy fans? There is nothing we can do about this. We, the real Cowboy nation, are stuck with the ultimate ego, on beyond Al Davis. The only two NFL owners who, as Rhett said to Scarlett, throw away happiness with both hands. And spend millions in the process. (OK, maybe Snyder too.)
Al, your unfortunate mentor, can point to his resume and say 'I'm a football guy.' But he's not. He lost that distinction along the ownership way. Al the owner chased away one good football guy after another--Madden, Flores, Shanahan, Shell--because, at the end of the day, it had to be about Al. Al tortured (and wasted) Marcus Allen as a matter of self-centered principle. Like you, he won three Super Bowls despite himself.
It's been 25 years since his last title. You, Jerry, are now at 14 years and counting. You're on the same road, but you're incapable of that one tough decision required to fix the situation--hiring the right general manager and stepping away.
When the Cowboys came to town in 1960, I was 12 growing up in north Dallas. "I'll be a Cowboy fan until the day I die" I've said many, many times. But Jerry, you're losing me...and that's not easy. We the Cowboy nation feel real pain for the franchise builders--Murchison, Schramm, Landry, Lilly, Perkins, Renfro, Staubach, Pearson, Dorsett, and many more. Each knew you had to set aside self to build the best football team on the planet. We feel for the many talented pros on the Cowboys today, the team players, those profoundly frustrated by the lack of intelligent, institutional control, direction, and focus.
When Duane Thomas, starting tailback on a Super Bowl champion team, became a cancer in the locker room, he was gone. Instantly. No room for that on Clint Murchison's Cowboys. Now, we are a franchise out looking for the misfit, the squeaky wheel. The million-dollar head case.
The owner likely has a clue about the problem but he is incapable of fixing it.
January 7, 2009
(1st draft: 12-29-2008)
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