Category: Cowboys (Page 39 of 54)

Quincy's Knees

July 22, 2009 / Allan / 0 Comments

I love the sounds God’s people make when they are praising him, when they are living in him, when they are being shaped by him, when they are giving their all to him. I love listening to God’s people. I love to hear the 14 children in our small group sing “Sanctuary” together in our living room. I love the sound of Bible pages turning in the worship center. I love listening to groceries being boxed and car trunks being slammed shut in the parking lot outside our food pantry and benevolence center. I love listening to Jimmy and Bill trade English and Chinese with their Let’s Start Talking students out in the concourse and in the library.

The sound baptismal water makes when a body is slammed into it and brought back out again. The giggles and sighs of joy from the newly-baptized. The audible smiles of all those participating.

The high-pitched squeal of Kent’s squeegee up and down all the windows. Muffled sounds from Jim and Gary in the next office discussing the finer points of one of Paul’s letters. Lance and Jason teasing teenagers in the hall. Jackie’s pleasant voice warmly greeting visitors at the door. Loud and abrubt sounds of tables being moved for the quilting ladies. The tap-tap-tap of Suzanne’s keyboard as she works on the church website. Laughter from the teacher’s workroom next door. Tara and Pam encouraging Tim and Collin to behave as they practice for VBS. The constant whir of the copier cranking out more bulletins and brochures and announcement sheets. Duane buffing the upstairs floors. Howard humming the pitch of the next song as he sings, “please be seated.” The banging of communion trays against rings and buttons. Manuel’s impossibly-fast Spanish. Bonny’s clanging key ring as she unlocks another door for another busy church member.

The quiet roll of Mike’s wheelchair as he takes his spot halfway down on the right side of the center aisle. The hum of Angela’s breathing devices. The dull thud as Howard sets his oxygen tank down on the floor beside him. The scooting and sliding of Retha’s walker.

And Quincy’s knees. I love the sound of Quincy’s knees.

Quincy’s knees crackle and pop when he kneels down to pray. Sounds almost like a ten-year-old with a yard of bubble wrap. It’s unmistakable. It’s hard for Quincy to get down on his knees like that in our worship center. It’s even more difficult for him to get up. But down he goes, submitting himself to God, bowing before his Lord and Master, acknowledging his place before the Creator of Heaven and Earth.

I kneel down beside Quincy, this humble servant of God. And I listen to him praise God. He thanks God for all of creation, recounting all six days in order. He thanks God for bringing Israel out of Egypt and through the Red Sea into the Land of Promise. He prays the Prophets and the Psalms back to the God who gave them to us. He quotes Jesus in his prayer. He boldly calls on God to be true to his Word. He reminds God of his promises to his people.

And then Quincy prays for me. And Carrie-Anne. And Whitney and Valerie and Carley. And my sisters and my brother and my parents. By name. Like he’s done every single morning up here since last December. Then Quincy prays for every single one of our Legacy shepherds, by name, and thier wives and children, by name, just like he’s done every morning up here for the past eight months. He prays for every name on every page of the bulletin, lifting those brothers and sisters up to the Lord, begging him to take care of them and bless them. He prays for every young person in our youth group. By name. He prays for every missionary connected to this church family. By name. Quincy prays for church secretaries and custodians and deacons and shut-ins, by name, every morning.

And then he finally gets around to praying for himself. He thanks God for the massive stroke that nearly killed him in 1993. This stroke that has so debilitated Quincy. This stroke that makes it more than difficult for Quincy to even walk. This stroke that’s left his legs and arms weak, his eyes crooked, his mouth twisted, and his speech slurred. He thanks God for it all. He recounts to God the ways God has delivered him through his physical pains and emotional setbacks. He praises God for redeeming him through Christ, realizing if he had not been humbled by that stroke, he never would have given his life back to his Creator.

HE. THANKS. GOD. FOR. HIS. STROKE.

And when our sweet hour of prayer is over, Quincy puts his hands on the pew and pushes himself up. And his knees pop again. I get up with him. My knees are sore and my back hurts. Quincy smiles and looks at me and says, “I appreciate you, Allan. I’m so glad you’re here.”

And I realize how small and selfish and stupid I am.

Quincy, I appreciate you. Your faith does move mountains. Your trust in our God puts mine to shame. Your commitment to his Church is unwavering. Your love for his people is unconditional. Your submission to him is genuine in every sense of the word. You bless me, brother, more than I can ever tell you. Being with you, praying with you, moves me to grow up. It moves me to give. It moves me to trust. It increases my faith. It erases my doubts. You are a giant, Quincy. You are a man of God. And I’m so grateful that he put you here at Legacy to help us, to teach us, to show us what faith looks like.

This is a busy place with a lot of busy people. It’s a loud place with a lot of loud noises. And I’m a loud person. I like noise. Turn it up! I’m starting, though, to appreciate more and more the quiet sounds. The unnoticed noises of faith and perseverance. Wheelchairs and walkers and oxygen tanks and tubes.

And I love the sound of Quincy’s knees.

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There are 53 days left until the Cowboys kick off the 2009 football season in Tampa Bay. And we’re getting there together by honoring the second-best players in team history according to jersey number. We call it the Red Ribbon Review because these are the also-rans, the almost-weres, the second-place finishers.

Today’s #53 is laid-back long-haired conspiracy theorist and activist Mark Stepnoski.

Stepnoski was a third-round draft pick by the Cowboys out of Pitt in 1989. Jimmy Johnson took him as a center right after he took Troy Aikman and Daryl Johnston. Probably the smallest offensive lineman ever employed by the Cowboys during the Jimmy Era, Stepnoski made up for his lack of size with great speed and agility and smarts. He went through that 1-15 season and became a locker room leader and true stabilizing force on those first two Super Bowl title teams in ’92 and ’93.

Stepnoski left for the big free agent money the Oilers threw his way in ’94, playing two years in Houston, one in Memphis, and one in Nashville before re-signing with Dallas in 1999.

He was elected to five Pro Bowls, three of them with the Cowboys. He played in 133 games with Dallas over nine years. And he was named second-team center on the NFL’s all-decade team of the ’90s.

Stepnoski’s more notorious now for his role with the National Organization for the Reform of Marijuana Laws. He serves on the national advisory board and was once president of the Texas chapter for the decriminalization of marijuana efforts. Anyone who knew him as a player isn’t surprised. The long hair. The half-opened eyes. The “yeah, dude, whatever, man” attitude. Funny guy. But he always seemed half asleep. He’s also, just in the past two or three years, become a very vocal member of the 9/11 truth movement, questioning the mainstream explanations of the events of September 11, 2001. He’s a conspiracy theorist all the way on that one, which makes for pretty interesting reading. There’s no proof that his views on that are connected in any way with his participation in NORML. None.

Peace,

Allan

Doing Love

July 21, 2009 / Allan / 0 Comments

I’m re-reading C. S. Lewis’ Mere Christianity for our Tuesday morning men’s Bible study here at Legacy. Today’s chapter on “Christian Marriage” was centered on the promises we make — to God, to the Church, to our families, to the witnesses, to ourselves, and to our spouses — when we get married. The vows.

He focuses, of course, on the permanence of marriage. He refers to divorce as “something like cutting up a living body, as a kind of surgical operation…it is more like having both your legs cut off than it is like dissolving a business partnership or even deserting a regiment.”

But my real interest lies in the distinction he makes beween “being in love” and “doing love.” He doesn’t use that term, “doing love.” That’s mine. What I hope it communicates is that love is a verb, not a feeling. It’s an action, not an emotion. Here’s Lewis:

The promise, made when I am in love and because I am in love, to be true to the beloved as long as I live, commits me to being true even if I cease to be in love. A promise must be about things I can do, about actions; no one can promise to go on feeling in a certain way. He might as well promise never to have a headache or always to feel hungry.

Love is not merely a feeling. It’s more honestly realized and experienced in the doing.

I recall a huge fight Carrie-Anne and I had in our first year of marriage. We were going at it. Raising our voices. Saying things to each other we shouldn’t have been saying. We yelled and screamed at each other in that little rent house on Magnolia Lane in Pampa to the point that there was nothing else to say. And we both went into that silent mode. We didn’t talk to each other for several hours. She in one part of the house, me in another. Upset. Mad. Not liking each other at all.

And then when dinner time rolled around, Carrie-Anne started cooking. For an hour, she made dinner. You would think she was making dinner only for herself. That’s what I was assuming, too. It would only make sense. I was being a punk. Why would she cook a meal for me? I was on my own. That’s what I fully expected. And then she brought me a plate. A hot meal. A really delicious meal. She didn’t say anything, but she made my dinner and served me. My heart was broken by her act of kindness. At that moment Carrie-Anne was not in love with me. But she still loved me. She showed me that love, that fidelity, that proof of her vows, by taking care of me, looking out for my best interests. She loved me with a verb. She was doing love.

And I fell in love with her all over again. And we talked and kissed and prayed and made up.

I can’t remember for the life of me what we were fighting about that day. I have no idea. But I’ll never, ever, forget Carrie-Anne’s act of love for me right in the middle of it. It changed my life. It changed my outlook. It radically impacted the ways I treat her.

We’re still in love. Not the crazy excitement of the in love that you feel the day before your wedding. As C. S. Lewis says, who could bear to live like that for even five years? No. Our love is much better than that now. Our love is manifest in the doing of thoughtful and gracious deeds, an active love that seeks the other’s best interests. It is a “deep unity, maintained by the will and deliberately strengthened by habit; reinforced by the grace which both partners ask, and receive, from God.”

It’s not pefect. But it is underpinned by our growing understanding and appreciation of love as an action verb.

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There are 54 days left until the Cowboys kick off their historic 50th NFL season. I’m sure there’s a commemorative patch out there that they’ll wear on their shoulders all year. I haven’t seen it yet or read about it anywhere. Does anybody have any info on that? Will the patch, will the team, pay more homage to the new stadium than to the 50 years of Cowboys history? My money’s on the new stadium being prominently featured in whatever patch they’ve designed. As my dad says, “hide and watch.” (I still have no idea what that means.)

As we count down the long summer days to that first game against the Bucs in Tampa Bay on September 13, we recognize the second-best players in Cowboys history according to jersey number. And while the debate usually centers on the merits of second and third and fourth best players, with the top player generally being very obvious, that is not the case today. The Cowboys have employed two of the best #54s of all time.

And the KK&C Red Ribbon Review is going with Chuck Howley as the second-best.

Howley was drafted out of West Virginia in the first round of the 1959 draft by the Bears, the seventh selection overall. After two seasons in Chicago, Howley retired from football with an injured knee and, incredibly, began working at a gas station near Wheeling. The expansion Cowboys, desperate for any kind of help, called Howley and worked out a deal with the Bears in which Howley would attempt a comeback in Dallas.

It worked.

Howley went on to play 13 superstar seasons with the Cowboys. He was an integral part of Landry’s Doomsday Defense, taking the Cowboys to two NFL Championship Games and two Super Bowls. As a super-quick and super-strong outside linebacker who played sideline to sideline, Howley was highly respected by his peers as a five-time All-Pro and a six-time Pro Bowler. In the Cowboys first ever Super Bowl appearance, Howley collected two interceptions and forced a fumble, earning him game MVP honors. He’s still the only Super Bowl MVP to be named from the losing team.

Howley was the fourth Cowboy inducted into the team’s famed Ring of Honor. He’s the one against whom all Cowboys outside linebackers are measured. And he’s still only the second-best #54 in Cowboys history.

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I’m borrowing from Kipi’s blog while she’s at Three Mountain taking pictures of the Legacy kids at camp. If you want to see pictures of your children, click here. If you just want to see pictures of mine, click here.

Peace,

Allan

The Great Exchange

July 20, 2009 / Allan / 0 Comments

The Gospel is all about changing places. It’s about substitution. Someone taking my place. Me filling in for someone else. Christ paying a debt he didn’t owe. Me bearing the burdens that belong to my brother. An exchange. A switch-out.

The Gospel is this way because our God is this way.

God is love. And love — real love, intimate love, liberating love, gospel love — is all about this exchange.

Think about your small group that meets Sunday night. Think of the emotionally wounded person in that group. There is no way to listen to and love that person and stay completely emotionally put-together yourself. As you listen to him and attend to him, he will probably begin to feel stronger and better. But that won’t happen without you being emotionally drained yourself. There’s an exchange. And it takes its toll.

Parenting is the same way. We sacrifice and give and serve in order that our children may live. We decrease so they will increase.

God’s salvation through Christ works the same way. He submits to man. He leaves his heavenly home. He serves. He suffers and sacrifices. He takes on shame to give us glory. He dies so we can live.

John Stott wrote:

The essence of sin is we human beings substituting ourselves for God, while the essence of salvation is God substituting himself for us. We put ourselves where only God deserves to be; God puts himself where we deserve to be.

If we’ll open our eyes and look for it, we’ll see that the exchange is happening all around us. We live in this exchange. Praise God for the great exchange!

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Busy weekend. Thanks to J and Laurie Bailey, we were able to watch the Rangers at the Ballpark Saturday night with their sweet family and some other guests. Another Rangers loss in which Texas scored only one run. But this one was a little easier to take since we were in J’s super suite directly behind home plate. Whitney, of course, hung on every pitch, while Valerie and Carley took books to read and mostly laid around inside the suite, reading and eating cotton candy. They even managed to get one of the Pirates of the Caribbean movies on the big screen TV. How embarrassing. Thanks, Baileys. We had a blast.

We dropped the two little girls off at Three Mountain Camp just south of Lake Whitney yesterday afternoon. This is Carley’s first camp, so Carrie-Anne got a little weird. Thinking about Carley sometimes makes me a little weird, too. Two weeks ago Carley finally jumped up in the hallway at home and hit the top of the bedroom door frame with her hand. She’s been trying for over year. Now she’s hit it. And now she jumps up and hits the top of every door frame in the whole house, everywhere she goes. Just like I did when I was her age. She’s big now, right? No more little kids. They’re all able to hit the top of the door. I suppose the ceiling’s next. I think Valerie’s still a year away.

Thanks to Kipi Ward who’s managing that 3rd-4th grade cabin down there for taking and posting some pictures.

So, it was just the three of us last night: C-A and Whitney and me. Just like it was for almost four years. We got back from Three Mountain just in time to take in a late night concert in Dallas. I know, Gene Paul, that singing “Sharp Dressed Man” with 25,000 people isn’t the same as singing “Hey, Jude” with 80,000 people. OK, you’re right, it’s not even close. But we had a great time.

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Yesterday was Aaron and Jennifer Green’s last day here at Legacy. This really stinks. They’re being forced to re-locate to Katy, Texas in the Houston area. They fought it. But, now they’re gone. Aaron and Jennifer are those kind of people that, as a preacher, you really, really, really appreciate. Jennifer was up here at least two or three days a week, every week, for as long as I’ve been here, working in and for our children’s ministry. Aaron jumped immediately into the middle of our move to weekly Small Groups Church, serving on the planning committee and co-leading his own groups during both cycles. He also plays a vital role in the leadership of our young families class here. They both work tirelessly behind the scenes and show up for everything. Man, they’re leaving a big hole here at Legacy. It was a tough day around here because of that. But they’re going to bless a lucky group of Christians somewhere down in Katy.

We love y’all, Greens. We send you to Katy with our love and our prayers and our appreciation. We send you with the grace and peace of our Lord and Savior, Christ Jesus. We send you to the disciples in Katy to bless them and encourage them, as you have us. And we send you to join them in redeeming the world back to our God.

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There are 55 days left until the Cowboys kick off the NFL season. Probably less than 55 minutes left until Jerry Wayne holds another press conference about another event coming to his new stadium. But we’re concerned with the start of football season here. And we’re counting down the days with our Red Ribbon Review, a look at the second-best players in Cowboys history, according to jersey number. Before today’s #55, we’ll catch up with yesterday’s #56.

Eugene Lockhart. “Mean Gene the Hittin’ Machine.” A sixth-round draft pick in 1984, Lockhart became the first rookie to ever start for the Cowboys at middle linebacker when Bob Breunig was lost halfway through the season due to injury. Lockhart stayed there for six more seasons and became one of the very few bright stars on some pretty bad teams. He made over a hundred tackles in every season but his broken leg year of 1987, and still holds several team records for tackles, including the single season total of 222 he set in 1989. That was the year Lockhart racked up double digit tackle numbers in all 16 games, including a team-record 16 stops against the Cards. That was also Jimmy Johnson’s 1-15 first year in Dallas. So Lockhart’s accomplishments mainly went unnoticed. He was traded to the Patriots following the 1990 season for a number one draft pick that turned into Russell Maryland. As he was cleaning out his locker at Valley Ranch, Lockhart was heard to say, “It’s a cold business — a cold, cold business. And it’s even colder in New England.”

Today’s #55 is another Cowboys middle linebacker, Robert Jones. Jones was Dallas’ first round pick in 1992, the 24th player chosen overall, and the first from East Carolina University to ever be taken in the first round. He played only four years for the Cowboys. Just 56 total games. But they were the four glory years of the Cowboys’ dynasty that decade. Jones was named the NFC Rookie of the Year in ’92. And the Cowboys went to four straight NFC Championship Games, winning three conference titles and three Super Bowls. He went on to play for the Rams and the Dolphins. But for four years, he was the defensive signal-caller on the NFL’s best team.

Peace,

Allan

Called To Be Free

July 17, 2009 / Allan / 0 Comments

Human beings are created by God to live in relationships of love. God is love. God’s perfect law for his creatures is summed up by love. Love is what sets us free. It’s what makes us alive. Love is what gives us hope.

But love demands sacrifice and service. It calls for selflessness. It’s characterized by giving. It’s risky. Love is hard.

Strange, huh? Perfect life and perfect freedom is found in love. But love involves giving up freedoms and our lives.

C. S. Lewis, in his book entitled The Four Loves, describes this paradox:

Love anything, and your heart will certainly be wrung and possibly broken. If you want to make sure of keeping it intact, you must give your heart to no one, not even to an animal. Wrap it carefully round with hobbies and little luxuries; avoid all entanglements; lock it up safe in the casket or coffin of your selfishness. But in that casket — safe, dark, motionless, airless — it will change. It will not be broken; it will become unbreakable, impenetrable, irredeemable. The alternative to tragedy, or at least to the risk of tragedy, is damnation.

Our Christ tells us to throw away our lives and we’ll find them. make yourself last and he’ll make you first. Lose everything you have and he’ll save it.

Surrender and obedience to the Father and his perfect law. Only then will we realize our eternal calling to be free.

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There are 58 days left until the Cowboys kick off their 2009 football season. And our Red Ribbon Review is counting down the long summer days by honoring the also-rans, the almost-weres, the second-best players in Cowboys history by jersey number. Today’s #58 is linebacker Dixon Edwards. A starter for Jimmy Johnson’s teams in the ’90s, Edwards was overlooked at times because he played next to Ken Norton and Robert Jones. But Edwards was good. He was taken in the second round of the 1991 draft out of Michigan State and wound up starting in three Super Bowl wins. He racked up 216 solo tackles during his five-year Cowboys career and then bailed for bigger money in Minnesota.

It’s going to be an incredibly busy weekend (maybe I’ll tell you more about it on Monday) so I’m going to give you tomorrow’s #57 today. It’s Bruce Huther. He was a backup linebacker on Landry’s Super Bowl teams in the ’70s. During his five years in Dallas, Huther only started one game. That was in his final season in 1983. But he wound up with playing time in three NFC Championship Games and two Super Bowls. Huther was an undrafted free agent out of New Hampshire. A perennial backup and special teams player on some pretty good teams. And the second-best to ever wear #57 for the Cowboys.

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My dad’s birthday is Sunday. To celebrate, go to Whataburger and discuss gas prices and the weather together over a “senior Coke.” Then wrap it up with some bean juice and a straw. Happy Birthday, dad. I love you.

Allan

Pruning Pains

July 16, 2009 / Allan / 0 Comments

“I am the true vine and my Father is the gardener….every branch that does bear fruit he prunes so that it will be even more fruitful.” ~John 15:2

What about this pruning? Trimming back parts of the healthy branch to make sure the greatest energy of the branch goes into making bigger and better fruit? Cutting parts of the branch in an effort to produce more quantity and quality?

Ouch.

If the branches of the vine could speak, they’d tell us, yes, it’s painful. Yeah, it hurts to be cut. But they’d also rejoice because they’re able now to produce more and better fruit as a result of that painful pruning.

I can look back on my life and see how God has pruned me. You can, too. I can feel, I can point to, even now — this past week, today — things God is using to prune me, to trim away distractions, to really focus my life. Let’s not ever forget — and I need to be reminded of this all the time — that God uses painful and unpleasant things to prune us.

“You have forgotten that word of encouragement that addresses you as sons: ‘My son, do not make light of the Lord’s discipline, and do not lose heart when he rebukes you, because the Lord disciplines those he loves, and he punishes everyone he accepts as a son.’ Endure hardship as discipline; God is treating you as sons.” ~Hebrews 12:5-7

What’s keeping you from bearing fruit? What is it in your life that’s distracting you or gets in the way of producing righteous fruit? Now, how is the gardener working, today, to prune it away?

Our trials and tough times need to always be appreciated as part of God’s pruning process. Pruning is the gardener’s job. And we need it. We don’t ignore it or curse it. And we shouldn’t be surprised by it. We grow from it.

John Bunyan wrote: “There are those that grow ill and well again like beasts, learning nothing from it.”

Let’s not let that be us. Submit to God’s pruning. And learn and grow. It’s a sure sign that God has accepted you and is actively working to transform you more into the image of his Son.

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We’re into the linebackers now as our countdown to Cowboys season heads into the 50s. There are 59 days left until the Cowboys kick off their historic 50th NFL season. And our Red Ribbon Review honors the second-best players in Cowboys history according to jersey number.

Today’s #59 is the first Vietnamese-American to ever play in the NFL, Aggies linebacker Dat Nguyen. Highly decorated in the Big XII and across the nation — he still holds the A&M record for career tackles at 517 — Nguyen was still considered too small to be an impact player in the pros. So he slipped all the way to the third round where the Cowboys selected him in 1999. Nguyen led the Cowboys in special team tackles that rookie year. And by the middle of his second season, he had become the starter at middle linebacker.

A variety of injuries, mainly a neck injury in 2005, forced his retirement after just seven seasons. But Nguyen wound up with 665 total tackles and seven interceptions for his Cowboys career, including 172 stops in 2001, the second-highest season total in team history. His hustle and determination and huge smile made him a fan favorite. His work ethic and brains have made him a current Cowboys assistant coach. (His involvement in Michael Irvin’s “Fourth and Long” causes me to question his brains. And the advice he’s getting from counselors.)

I was there in the Dome, on the sidelines in St. Louis as a sports talk show host at WHBQ in Memphis, when Dat’s Aggies came from 17 down to beat K-State in double OT for the Big XII Championship. And I was hosting a morning show on KTUB in Wichita Falls by the summer of ’99 when Dat made his Cowboys debut there at training camp at Midwestern State. Super nice guy. And the second-best #59 in Cowboys history.

Peace,

Allan

For The Sake Of His Body

July 15, 2009 / Allan / 0 Comments

Preaching the good news of the Kingdom of God is going to involve some suffering. Picking up a cross and following Jesus, as our Savior demands, is certainly a call to suffering. It’s a sharing in the sufferings of Christ, a participation in what he endured. It makes us more like him. It shapes us and molds us to be more like him.

Jesus’ afflictions are not complete. They’re not done. They’re not finished. They are “lacking.” The sufferings of the Christ are still being carried out in those of us who follow him.

“I fill up in my flesh what is still lacking in regard to Christ’s afflictions, for the sake of his body, which is the Church.”

The Colossians 1:24-29 context in which we find this sentence is all about preaching — proclaiming the death, burial, and resurrection of our Lord. Preachers, I think, are called to die. To die to self, to die to the world, to die to any other way of life, to model in a “the-medium-is-the-message” kind of way what it looks like to live in Christ. To take on the sufferings, to bear the burdens, to carry the weight. And to do it for the sake of the Church.

There’s a teenager in your church who will come alive if you’ll only die for him. There’s an older woman in your congregation who will blossom like never before if you’ll die for her. There’s a sick brother, a depressed sister, a spiritually immature Christian, a stubborn believer, a wounded soul, a damaged disciple who has no hope of living unless someone dies for him or her.

I need to be reminded of this constantly. My role as a proclaimer of the Good News is to preach it and live it the way Christ did. Even with the sufferings. Accepting the sufferings. Embracing the sufferings. Welcoming them as a way of joining my Lord in his mission to redeem the world.

“I fill up in my flesh what is still lacking in regard to Christ’s afflictions, for the sake of his body, which is the Church. I have become its servant by the commission God gave me to present to you the Word of God in its fullness — the mystery that has been kept hidden for ages and generations, but is now disclosed to the saints. To them God has chosen to make known among the Gentiles the glorious riches of this mystery, which is Christ in you, the hope of glory. We proclaim him, admonishing and teaching everyone with all wisdom, so that we may present everyone perfect in Christ. To this end I labor, struggling with all his energy, which so powerfully works in me.” ~Colossians 1:24-29.

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Today’s #60 in our Red Ribbon Review countdown to Cowboys season is a downer. Twelve players have worn #60 in Cowboys history. And it’s a less than stellar group. The noteables among them include the likes of Jackie Burkett, Ben Noll, Lee Roy Caffey, and Dean Hamel. You don’t remember them. You can’t tell me what position they played or when. This is a tough group. Only two of these 12 played for Dallas longer than two seasons. One of them is the second-best #60 ever to play for the Cowboys. And he is defensive lineman Don Smerek.

(I can’t even find a picture of the guy. All I’ve got for you are these career stats. If you find a picture of Smerek please send it to me. Still looking for a picture of our Red Ribbon #69, Ben Fricke, too.)

I do remember him, though. Smerek played 69 games for the Cowboys as a backup defensive lineman from 1981-87. An undrafted free agent out of Nevada-Reno, Smerek finished his career with 14.5 quarterback sacks, six of those in 1983, probably his finest season. Smerek is remembered for his time in Dallas, mainly, for two things.

One, he was shot in the chest one night by a Dallas motorist who claimed the 6′-7″, 260-pound Smerek kicked his car and challenged him to a fight. A Dallas grand jury refused to indict the shooter for attempted murder. They ruled it self-defense.

Two, Smerek was riding shotgun with Randy White when they famously crossed the Cowboys players’ picket line to participate in practice on the first day of the 1987 NFL players strike. Tony Dorsett stood in front of White’s pickup in a tense standoff in front of TV cameras and nearly got run over by an angry “Manster.” Of course, Dorsett actually joined the “scabs” two weeks later, along with Too Tall Jones and Danny White. I’m not sure the Cowboys ever got over what happened during those six weeks. But Smerek and Randy White were the first two to cross. And Smerek is the second-best player to ever wear #60 for the Cowboys.

Peace,

Allan

Category: Cowboys (Page 39 of 54)

Quincy's Knees

Doing Love

The Great Exchange

Called To Be Free

Pruning Pains

For The Sake Of His Body

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