On this day the Cowboys are certain to fall to 3-6; on this day that begins a stretch of games in Philadelphia, in Atlanta, against Washington, and against the Saints; on this day when Dallas is a full touchdown dog against the Eagles: I can’t say it any better than seven-year-old Rylan Wood of Mansfield.

Dear Mr. Jones,

My name is Rylan Wood. I am a 7 year old 2nd grade student in Mansfield, Texas. My family has been Dallas Cowboys fans since the team was started. I have a lot of Cowboy gear and I have met Zeke, Taco, Jason Witten, and two other players who play on other teams.

You have made my mom very mad because WE SUCK! Every game day she is yelling at the tv and turns off the game. We are wanting to believe in the boys but its hard. I hope “Coach Garrett” is clapping if this letter gets to you. See what happens when Dez X is gone??  The cheerleaders are better than the team this year. I do not want to hurt your feelings.

Thank you, Rylan

Peace,

Allan

I received an email last week that began “Dear Allan, my name is Stephen Spacek, I am the nephew of actor Sissy Spacek and live in Austin, Texas.” That’s a weird email, yes? Completely out of left field. I half expected the next line to mention that Stephen had been abducted in Columbia or Ghana and if I would send him $100 he would be released and then send me $10,000. Something like that. But, no, Stephen is asking me to sign and circulate a change.org petition to Jerry Wayne asking the Cowboys owner to induct Charlie Waters into the Dallas Cowboys Ring of Honor.

Here’s a link to the petition:

Mr. Spacek is a longtime friend of Charlie’s and found a few things I’ve written about Charlie on my blog — that dude’s doing some deep diving on Google! I’ve signed the petition this morning. Jerry doesn’t deserve the respectful request that this petition represents, but if it’s for Charlie Waters, I’m all for it.

Charlie played safety for the Cowboys from 1970-1981, missing only the 1979 season, Roger Staubach’s last year, with a knee injury. It was during Staubach’s last regular season game, with Waters doing the radio analysis with Brad Sham, when the Cowboys made up TWO 17-point deficits to beat the Redskins 35-34 on a last second pass to Tony Hill, that Charlie kept saying over and over, “Ya gotta believe!”

During his eleven-year career, Waters and the Cowboys played in nine NFC Championship Games and five Super Bowls. His 50 career interceptions rank second all-time for Dallas, his 584 return yards are second most in Cowboys history, and his nine playoff picks are still an NFL record.

His running mate, strong safety Cliff Harris, was inducted into the Ring of Honor back in 2004. Why they were not inducted together, I’ll never know. The two are inseparable. Charlie played two more years than Cliff, providing veteran leadership and leading the transition to that next generation of Cowboys DBs — “Charlie’s Angels” — Everson Walls and Michael Downs and Dennis Thurman. Putting Charlie in now would right a horrible injustice.

Putting Charlie in now might also be a great way to kick start some kind of revolt or revolution. A Ring of Honor ceremony recognizing and celebrating an accomplished team-player like Charlie and the legacy of an organization that for 35-years dominated the win column and won the hearts of fans around the globe might embarrass Jerry Wayne enough to sell the team to somebody who might have a clue about running an NFL football club. Jerry is presiding over the longest drought — by far! — of divisional playoff wins and Super Bowl appearances in Cowboys history. And I’ve seen nothing since 1996 that makes me think it’s going to end. A ceremony recognizing the rightful place of Charlie Waters in Cowboys history seems to be the very least of what Jerry could do for Cowboys fans. History is all we’ve got. Let us remember together. It might momentarily relieve the taste of bile from the backs of our collective throats.

Darren Woodson is in the Ring of Honor. Charlie Waters meant every bit as much to those teams of the ’70s as Woodson did to Jimmy Johnson’s dynasty teams of the early ’90s. Charles Haley is in the Ring of Honor which, to me, is highly questionable. There are 21 Cowboys in the Ring of Honor, seven of whom won Super Bowls as teammates of Waters’. And I know you can’t put every Cowboy from the ’70s in the Ring, but I’ll never understand why Cliff Harris is in and Charlie is out.

So, please, click the link above and sign the petition. If you’re so inclined, you might also share it on Facebook or Instagram or email.

Either way, let’s all remember Charlie Waters together today: a hard-nosed, team-first, community-minded, play-making winner who represents what we all use to love about this terrible team.

Peace,

Allan

Third down and six and Dak Prescott is now looking for Dalton Schultz on a seven yard hook. Or is it Geoff Swain on a seven yard out? Maybe Blake Jarwin finds a seam or Rico Gather hits a crease for the first down catch. Or maybe Prescott gets sacked for a seven yard loss because he’s frozen in the pocket looking for Jason Witten.

All Dallas Cowboys quarterbacks from Drew Bledsoe to Dak Prescott, including all the Matt Cassels, Tony Romos, Stephen McGees, and Brad Johnsons in between, have looked to Jason Witten as their security blanket. Since 2004, there has not been a more consistent certainty at tight end in the NFL than Witten. Dependable. Constant. Steady. Whatever adjective you want to use, Witten was always there — the rock in the midst of the chaos that is Jerry Wayne’s Cowboys.

After 15 solid seasons, Witten today has officially announced his retirement to join the Monday Night Football booth at ESPN.

After 1,152 catches (4th all-time in the NFL), 12,448 yards (most in franchise history), 68 touchdowns (third in team history), 239 starts (235 of them in a row), and eleven Pro Bowls (most in team history), he’ll be remembered most for this one play: (Since it’s the NFL, I’m unable to post the video to this site; just Google “Jason Witten No Helmet”)

However…

…there’s an emptiness here, right? There’s regret. You feel it, don’t you? It’s undeniable. Everybody is celebrating Witten’s greatness — including me — but there’s a cloud hanging over this whole thing:

No Dallas Cowboy should ever play for 15 consecutive seasons and never even win one single divisional playoff game.

We can debate whether hiring Witten is a lazy move for ESPN. We can discuss how his retirement shocked the Cowboys, caught them totally off guard, and will set their 2018 offense back several steps. We can argue how Dallas might replace him. We can congratulate Witten for being such a great guy and modeling everything it means to be a team player and a stand-up human. We can observe that the Cowboys have now lost Witten, Dez, and Romo in one calendar year. But don’t let this sorry fact elude you: Witten played in Dallas for fifteen years and never won a divisional round playoff game.

Maybe on third down and six next season, if the Cowboys are playing on a Monday Night, Prescott’s best bet would be to chunk the ball towards the press box.

Nah. Still wouldn’t matter.

Peace,

Allan

Following three straight seasons of an increasing number of critical drops in crucial situations, the Cowboys returned the favor on Friday the 13th, unceremoniously dumping their underperforming diva wide receiver Dez Bryant. The move comes about two years too late, in my opinion. But it’s stuff like this that makes following Jerry Wayne’s Cowboys so every-day-of-the-year interesting.

Bryant’s production has dramatically dropped over the past three seasons. He’ll turn 30 this year, but he’s missed more plays and more games the past three seasons — and dropped more balls — than a 40-year-old. And he’s never been worth the headache. You can’t get away with blowing up at teammates and coaches on the sidelines or sulking in the locker room or being arrested for assaulting your mother unless you’re winning Super Bowls. And the Cowboys aren’t.

I’ve always thought the Cowboys played better when Bryant was injured or otherwise not in uniform. It seems the team would go on little winning streaks when Dez was on the sidelines and then, when he’d get healthy and return to the lineup, they’d lose. Because of both his outrageous salary and his poor attitude, the quarterbacks had to force the ball to him. He couldn’t get open and he couldn’t catch, but they’d keep forcing it to him to keep him from throwing a fit. The whole thing would get out of sync in about three drives and the Cowboys offense would falter.

Dez knew he was going to have to take a pay cut heading into this 2018 season, but the Cowboys knew he couldn’t handle a pay cut. He doesn’t have the temperament to withstand the insult of a drop in status. He can’t function as anything less than a number one guy. If he and the Cowboys agreed to keep him on the team at a lesser salary, it would have been disastrous in the locker room. Cancer. Gangrene. Toxic. Much worse than anything we’ve seen from Dez in the past — and that’s saying something significant.

So Dallas didn’t even offer him a reduced deal. Jerry just pulled him in and cut him, something he should have done at least two years ago.

Bryant responded in his typical way, with a tweet that read, in part, “If I didn’t have my edge, I got it now. It’s personal… very personal.”

He wants to stay in the NFC East so he can play against the Cowboys twice a year and exact his revenge. But the reports I’m reading say the Eagles, Giants, and Redskins have no interest. At any cost. Dez is saying all the right things today, selling himself to potential suitors. It’s just too bad it took getting cut to compel Dez to want to meet with wide receivers coaches and study film and work on his routes and read a playbook. It took getting cut for Bryant to find his edge.

The truth is, Dez can’t be less than a number one guy. No team that has a chance at winning anything big in the next couple of years is going to sign Bryant as a number two receiver because he’ll eat up the locker room and destroy the franchise. Dez will wind up as the number one guy on a really bad team. Which is where he’s been his whole career.

Peace,

Allan