We Talkin’ ‘Bout Practice

Snitch In Time Saves 9…And 82

So Brad Johnson was the press “snitch” in the Cowboys locker room last season, not Jason Witten.

Read on here.

King Gong

 peter
Criticize the Dallas draft all you want. Really. (Me, I still think the Roy Williams trade was a complete mistake.) But try to know what you’re talking about, please.

Here, in a nutshell, is exactly what’s wrong with the draft hype and overblown media coverage, courtesy of SI’s Peter King:

“Dallas Cowboys: A draft only Mel Kiper could love. Who knows these guys? Sounds like a special-teams jamboree in San Antonio this summer.”

Sounds, in fact, like something I could have written. Only thing is I’M NOT A PROFESSIONAL NFL JOURNALIST. What a complete cop-out by King, but he’s not alone. It’s just a symptom of a larger problem.

Even the best draftniks (Gosselin, Mayock) are making educated guesses, and the NFL guys whose full time jobs are to scout players and make draft picks miss most of the time.

But now the draft has become a spectacle to the point where there are scores of writers and talking heads blathering on about stuff without the faintest idea what they’re really talking about. Beyond the first round, they’ve got nothing to say. And few of them have anything compelling to say about that.

Occasionally, someone will (accidentally) spill the truth about the whole process, like King did in his column: “Who knows these guys?” Uh, shouldn’t you?

King might say his job is covering GM level operations and insider info — which he does pretty well. So why even bother doing a team by team analysis when your info is about as good as mine? And that goes for most of the other media coverage of this event as well.

So why do I pay any attention to the draft? Not real sure at this point.

Is There A Draft In Here?

Tweedles: Wade tries to keep up with the Jones.

Why am I not the least bit excited about the draft? The easy answer is that the Cowboys don’t have a first round pick, but that’s not really true. Because in truth the first rounder is the shiny new toy and the easy thing for media to get excited about, but the meat of any draft is found in rounds two through four. And the Cowboys are well stocked with those picks.

No, I think my disinterest has to do with the realization that this season, and the future of the franchise, hinges on the folks who are already in the building. The next wave of fresh fish won’t make the Cowboys any more or less capable of asserting championship level mental toughness. So my questions about this season won’t even be touched this weekend:

Will Wade’s new approach have any effect?

Is Jason Garrett a growed-up OC?

Is Jerry secretly writing off this season hoping for one of the Mikes?

And those are just the top three…

Popcorn Overcooked


The Cowboys say goodbye to Terrell Owens. As much talk as this will get…is already getting…this is no silver bullet. This does not solve the Cowboys organization’s top-down problems.

Still, I do think it shows that like it or not, no one player can be bigger than the team. If you’re too disruptive, or even perceived as too disruptive, you can get enough people in your workplace to push for your exit that even a complete apologist like Jerry Jones will cut you.

The big question is, will we see T.O. in a Deadskins uni?

Albert Keeps Skins Phat

Yes, it’s that time of year. Time for the Deadskins to make a big splash in free agency. And so, Tennessee Titan “Fat” Albert Haynesworth will now be lining up across from Cowboys center Andre Gurode twice a year. Assuming Gurode keeps his helmet on and out from under Haynesworth’s feet, I like Dre in this matchup.

More importantly, I like the fact that a team with so many holes on the offensive line blew their whole kitty on one guy. And I’m extremely interested to see how Haynesworth does A) with phat cash in the bank rather than playing for a contract B) without the underrated Titans D-line talent around him, and C) without Titans D-line coach Jim Washburn, one of the best in the business.

Overall, I think we have to, once again, give the Deadskins the offseason trophy (pictured above).

Thank You, Eagles


So much anger. So much hostility. And even open confrontation with fans, Brady James. The loss to Seattle on the fumbled snap was crushing. The Giants playoff loss burned for weeks. Weeks. But all I feel today is peace. Seriously. My overwhelming emotional reaction to the Philly game is relief.

Because now we know.

We know what we always suspected. And with apologies to Dennis Green, the Cowboys are who we thought they were.

They are a big-play-vulnerable, poor-tackling, can’t-make-a-third-and-long-stop, stupid-costly-penalty-waiting-to-happen defense.

They are a talented-but-diminished and not-too-bright suspension-prone cornerback who never proved worthy of the gamble.

They are a boy genius offensive coordinator who isn’t quite ready for a man’s game. Jim Johnson took Red to school. As did Rex, LeBeau Spags…fill in the blank.

They are a whining, can’t-get-separation, isn’t-as-productive-as-Crayton-or-Austin wide receiver who cost way too much in trade.

They are a highly-paid, under-performing, poorly-coached offensive line who don’t seem to excel at run or pass blocking.

They are a gift-giving-machine of a quarterback who has regressed to his draft status.

They are a nice enough coach who doesn’t have the ability or will to hold his team accountable for their action and drive them to greatness.

And they are an absolute laughingstock on special teams.

Thankfully, they are also Jason Witten and DeMarcus Ware.

Ultimately, however, they are Jerry’s. Jerry’s roster. Jerry’s organization. Jerry’s responsibility. I have long defended Mr. Jones, and will continue to on several fronts. He wants to win as much as any owner in the league, and will go to greater lengths than most in pursuit of such. He’s even proven he can subjugate his own ego for the good of the team, which is how we got Parcells. But the common denominator through more than a decade of turmoil and poor performances is him.

Jones fired Jimmy Johnson because Jones wanted the credit for the Super Bowl run of the early ’90s. Or some of the credit. Or more of the credit. Well, he’s got all the credit now. And so we have to put this, all of this, on him. His wildcatting ways snared three unexpected early rings, and have landed this legion of fans nothing but dry holes since.

If anything, the realization that Jerry Jones has created an organization mired in underperformance is the hardest part to accept. The 2008 Cowboys are not the illness. They are a symptom.

Ever seen a thoroughbred try to struggle to its feet with a broken leg? Excruciating to watch, just like this season. So thank you, Philadelphia. Thank you, Andy Reid. Thank, Donovan McNabb. For putting this horse out of its misery. We can finally look away.

They are who we thought they were.

Too Much Love

The Cowboys defense has become dominating and suddenly everyone is jumping back on the bandwagon. I liked it better when all the talking heads were forecasting a complete implosion. This team doesn’t handle praise well.

As Big Bill used to say, “Don’t eat the cheese.”

All Flap-Jacked Up


Is It Just Me…or does the Galloping Gobbler look an awful lot like Mrs. Butterworth?

I’m just saying.

T-New & Improved


Moss Gathers Little: No. 41 finally played…and played like the $50 million Pro Bowl corner he’s expected to be.

Let’s dispense with the bad news first: Penalties, interceptions and horrendous special teams play may yet cost the Cowboys this season. All were again on display Sunday night in Washington.

But let’s not belabor the negative. The ‘Boys turned in a very physical performance last night on both sides of the ball. Marion Barber and the offensive line did exactly what this team needs them to do. And the defense was sparked by the return of Terrence Newman, whose critical plays included an interception, a fourth down pass deflection and at least one nice bone-jarring hit on a running back.

It’s been so long since we’ve seen 41 play like this, he almost needs an introduction. So here it is:

Hello, Newman.

Next Page »