Showing posts with label Cowboys. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Cowboys. Show all posts

Sunday, December 31, 2017

Half a Century Since the Ice Bowl



"I'm going to take a bite of my coffee."

Frank Gifford, CBS color commentator

I have written here before of the legendary Ice Bowl of 1967. I am a lifelong student of history so I often write in my blogs about historic events — but my policy has been not to write about events I have written about before.

As my grandfather would say, I don't like to chew my cabbage twice.

But today is the 50th anniversary of that NFL championship game played between the Dallas Cowboys and the Green Bay Packers at Lambeau Field in Green Bay, Wisc., and on this milestone occasion, it deserves more than a cursory examination.

The game got its moniker from the extreme conditions in which it was played. The game-time temperature was about –15°. Under standards in use at the time, the wind chill was –48°. (National Weather Service standards have since been revised; under those standards, the wind chill would be a comparatively balmy –36°.)

Lambeau Field had a heating system installed beneath the playing surface, which was supposed to keep it in good condition in inclement weather, but the system failed. When the tarp was removed before game time, moisture was left on the field that froze instantly.

That gave rise to the rumor that Green Bay coach Vince Lombardi had manipulated the system in some way so that the brunt of the conditions would be more difficult on the visitors from Texas than the hometown Packers. That rumor was fueled by the perception that Dallas' players were more athletic than the aging Packers.

But it wasn't just the weather that contributed to the game's almost mythical status. In the few short years of the Cowboys' existence, the teams had developed a rivalry that persists to this day, which included a down–to–the–wire battle in Dallas for the NFL championship the year before. That added to the drama going into the game; it was punctuated by a thrilling conclusion.

Once, when I was working on the sports desk of the Denton, Texas newspaper, the sports editor and I had lunch with a friend of his — sportscaster Bill Mercer, a local icon who covered the Ice Bowl for Dallas radio station KLIF. My memory of that lunch conversation is that Mercer was a virtual walking encyclopedia of North Texas sports history. Much of it he had witnessed personally — and much of it focused on the Ice Bowl.

Now retired and living on the East Coast, Mercer reflected on the game for a new documentary about it.

"I can still see that game in my mind," Mercer said. "I'm 91 years old now and it's like it was yesterday. ... I can imagine it's going to go on and on. That game will live forever."

In such brutal weather, many myths gained traction. If they weren't entirely true, they had at least a nugget of truth in them — unlike the allegations about Lombardi.

Most of those allegations were made in jest, though. Even Lombardi's players joked about Vince's influence on the weather and the field conditions.

"I figure Lombardi got on his knees to pray for cold weather," said Green Bay defensive tackle Henry Jordan, "and stayed down too long."

The Packers and Cowboys brought decidedly different histories into the game.

The Packers had been fixtures in the National Football League for nearly half a century. They were two–time defending NFL champions and winners of more NFL championships than any other franchise.

The Cowboys began as an expansion team in 1960, but Dallas coach Tom Landry built them into Super Bowl contenders in less than a decade.

And they had plenty of motivation to win this time. They lost the NFL championship game the previous year in Dallas to those same Packers.

Adding to the intrigue was the fact that Lombardi and Landry had served together on Jim Lee Howell's New York Giants coaching staff in the 1950s.

Dallas had not played in Green Bay since its first year of existence. When the Cowboys arrived in Green Bay a couple of days before the game, the temperature was in the 50s, and quarterback Don Meredith mugged for the cameras, cupping his hands and saying the championship game was going to be "easy money."

The Cowboys knew a cold front was coming, but it was not expected until after the game was over.

It wasn't the first time meteorologists got it wrong.

The Packers scored first, capping a nine–minute drive with an eight–yard touchdown pass from Bart Starr to Boyd Dowler in the first quarter.

The conditions seemed to have put the Dallas offense in the deep freeze as it continued sputtering, but the Packers kept rolling.

In the second quarter, Green Bay took a 14–0 lead when Starr hit Dowler for another touchdown, this time from 46 yards.

It looked like the Cowboys were in trouble. In fact, it looked like the Cowboys would rather be anywhere else than Green Bay. As cold as it was, who could blame them?

And, indeed, the offense continued to struggle against the Packers' defense.

But now the Packers' offense began to struggle, too.

Later in the second quarter, as Starr went back to pass, the Cowboys' pass rush trapped him behind the line and stripped him of the ball. George Andrie picked it up and ran seven yards for a touchdown, cutting the deficit in half with about four minutes remaining before intermission.

After recovering a fumbled punt on Green Bay's end of the field with less than two minutes to play, the Cowboys added a field goal.

In keeping with the freakish nature of the game, Dallas did not get a single first down in the second quarter yet scored 10 points and trailed by only four at halftime.

The Cowboys' offense performed much better in the third quarter but still failed to generate a touchdown. The Packers were the ones who were sputtering, and the third period was scoreless. Going into the final quarter, Green Bay still led 14–10.

That would soon change.

On a halfback option, Dan Reeves hit Lance Rentzel for a 50–yard touchdown strike, and Dallas had its first lead of the game 17–14 with only eight seconds gone from the final period.

Finally staked to a lead, the Dallas defense appeared to have new life while the Green Bay offense seemed to have none.

The score remained 17–14 until the game was nearly over.

With just under five minutes to go, the Packers fielded a punt and started their final offensive possession of the game at their own 32. Field conditions were deteriorating by the minute.

All things considered, the Packers' effort in that final drive may never be matched in terms of execution or heroism.

The drive seemed to stall in the final minute with the Packers in the shadow of the Cowboys' goal post. Green Bay called its last timeout with 16 seconds remaining and the Packers a yard away from the end zone on fourth down.

Green Bay could have kicked a field goal and hoped to win the game in overtime. That would have been in character for Lombardi, who was not known as a gambler — in fact, he was noted for saying that "everybody loves a gambler until he loses" — and the field goal certainly would have been the conservative option. But apparently, it was never seriously considered.

"I didn't figure all those people up there in the stands could take the cold for an overtime game," Lombardi said. There was probably more to it than that, but he told Starr to take it in for the touchdown. And he did.

Fullback Chuck Mercein, a late–season acquisition for the Packers, played a key role in the winning drive — and is the person you can see with his hands raised in the photos of Starr after he scored the winning touchdown (he is number 30 in the photo at the top of this post).

Many people assume Mercein was signaling that Starr had scored, but he said he was trying to show the referees that he hadn't pushed Starr into the end zone. That would have resulted in a penalty, and the Packers almost surely would have had to settle for a field goal.

"I realized that was a singular moment in my career," Mercein, who made some important gains to set up Starr's game–winning play, said. "It means more to me because I was able to pay it forward, the faith that Vince Lombardi had in me. There were plenty of other backs he could have picked up. Seldom does it happen where you can repay someone for their faith in you."

For half a century the Ice Bowl has remained vivid in memories and no doubt would continue to do so with little help, but Meredith's son Michael, who was only a few months old when his father played in the game, has made a film about it that premiered recently on the NFL Network.

Sadly there is no known complete copy of the Ice Bowl telecast in existence. Radio broadcasts do still exist, including the one of Mercer calling the game for KLIF. Meredith used video clips that do exist and interviews with participants to tell the story.

That should heat up those memories of an already memorable day.

Saturday, March 21, 2015

Telling It Like It Is



I really admire Dale Hansen, weeknight sports anchor and sports director at WFAA — the ABC affiliate here in Dallas.

He has the courage to tell it like it is, which shouldn't come as a surprise, really. Nearly 30 years ago, he exposed NCAA violations at Southern Methodist University that ultimately led to the imposition of the NCAA's "death penalty" on SMU's football program. His work earned some awards for distinguished journalism — and several death threats, as I recall.

Football is virtually a religion in Texas. It's that way across the South, but it seems especially true of Texas.

And I love to watch football as much as anyone. I grew up in Arkansas, and we love our Razorbacks. It's the only thing that nearly everyone in Arkansas agrees on.

We love to like win, like just about everyone, I guess, but I honestly do believe that we also have standards in Arkansas. I think that was proven when the head coach was found to be carrying on an intimate relationship with a young female assistant. He is now coaching elsewhere, and the football program was subjected to some excruciating growing pains after he left, but the ship seems to be going in the right direction now — and it appears to be doing so with a group of young men who seem to know the meaning of the word honor.

That is part of what makes it so difficult to live here in the Metroplex and see how Jerry Jones has mismanaged the Cowboys for more than a quarter of a century now. I've lived here for all but four of those years — I even covered Jimmy Johnson's first press conference as Jones' new head coach hire — but I might as well have grown up here, given that most of the people in central Arkansas in those days were Cowboys fans.

Then, as now, there was no professional football team in Arkansas — and only a few professional teams within driving distance. The Cowboys were televised there every week. It was only natural, I suppose, for football fans there to gravitate to the Cowboys. Those who are still living — and many of their children and grandchildren — have carried on the tradition.

The Cowboys of those days played aggressive football — for which they were either admired or loathed, but, either way, no one could deny they carried themselves with dignity and honor. Tom Landry and Tex Schramm wouldn't have it any other way. Their players played hard on the field, and the Cowboys had something like 20 consecutive winning seasons, which I am sure put them under a great deal of pressure — including all the talk locally that they couldn't win "the big one" — but they didn't beat their wives, their girlfriends or their children when they were off the field.

Recently, though, Jones signed defensive lineman Greg Hardy. In case you aren't familiar with Hardy's background, you can get a pretty good idea of his personal history by reading this by Judy Battista of NFL.com.

You could get a really good idea of his background by listening to Hansen for three minutes earlier this week.

And, while it is tempting to summarize for you what Hansen said, it is far more effective if you see it and hear it for yourself.

So I urge you to watch the attached video.

Dale, I agree with you 100%

Friday, November 28, 2014

The Incredible Comeback



Like many other Americans, one of my most cherished Thanksgiving traditions is watching football.

And what happened 40 years ago is as vivid in my memory as anything that happened five minutes ago — because it was the fulfillment of every young boy's fantasy, and I was a young boy.

The Dallas Cowboys have been playing home football games on Thanksgiving since the '60s. On this day in 1974, they had been doing it for less than a decade. In 1974, they had a really special matchup planned — with the Washington Redskins, a rival and the NFC's representative in the Super Bowl two years earlier.

There have been some great games played on Thanksgiving, but none had such an improbable story line.

The Cowboys were losing to the Redskins, 16–3, when quarterback Roger Staubach was knocked out of the game in the third quarter, and Clint Longley, a rookie, was summoned off the bench to fill in.

That particular Thanksgiving, my parents had invited some friends of theirs to come to our house in the country. They came, along with their son who was a few years older than I was. After we all ate dinner, the men gathered in front of the TV to watch the Cowboys and Redskins. I wasn't a Cowboys fan, but I was a Staubach fan as was our visitors' son.

However, when Staubach was knocked from the game and an unknown rookie was called in to run the offense, we lost interest and excused ourselves. I think we went outside to shoot some baskets, but we were soon drawn back inside by the sound of our fathers whooping. Clint Longley was leading a comeback.

He threw a 35–yard TD pass to tight end Billy Joe Dupree to cut the deficit to six points, then Walt Garrison's one–yard TD run gave the Cowboys a one–point lead going into the fourth quarter.

Ex–Cowboy Duane Thomas scored his second touchdown of the game, giving the Redskins the lead again, then Longley connected with Drew Pearson for a 50–yard TD pass to win the game.

It was probably the best Thanksgiving a rookie quarterback ever had.

Monday, March 3, 2014

A Bold Suggestion



Randy Galloway had an intriguing suggestion to make to the Dallas Cowboys this weekend in the Fort Worth Star–Telegram.

His proposal? Trade quarterback Tony Romo to the Houston Texans for the #1 pick in this spring's NFL draft.

Houston, Galloway says, is a club that is ready to win ... except it needs a veteran quarterback. Romo is a veteran quarterback — who might benefit from a change of scenery. (Sometimes that is all it takes. Witness Alex Smith in Kansas City after an unproductive career in San Francisco.)

"Tony can play," Galloway writes. "Don't give me any back talk on that. Tony can play."

(A disclaimer is necessary here, you see. There has been some disagreement in these parts about Romo and whether he actually can play, at least at a level that is worth that huge contract that Cowboys owner Jerry Jones gave him nearly a year ago.)

Jones, Galloway writes, "knows he's not going anywhere with Tony. Not anywhere except the proven 8–and–8. Mr. Jones needs new blood at QB. And he needs out from under that stupid contract he gave Romo last summer."

I'll admit, it sounds pretty fantastic, doesn't it? But, with Romo's contract, Galloway observes, "he's already the second–most powerful person at Valley Ranch." That's second — behind Jones, ahead of the coach.

I've been observing Jones since he bought the Cowboys in 1989. I even covered Jimmy Johnson's first press conference after he was named Tom Landry's successor — by Jones.

And I have reached some very definite conclusions.

One of which is this: Jones is all about power and control. His ego demands frequent stroking — and his preferred form of stroking is to be told that he alone is responsible for all the good things that have happened to the Cowboys since he bought the team — the three Super Bowl wins in the '90s in particular — and anything bad that has happened is someone else's fault.

Anyone whose power rivals his own is a threat to Jones — on many levels — and he will only be patient for so long. His patience with coaches — even big–name coaches like Barry Switzer and Bill Parcells — lasts about three years at best.

He has tended to be a little more patient with players — but few players during Jones' tenure have been regarded as "the second–most powerful person at Valley Ranch." That designation usually is reserved for the head coach.

And Jones is jealous about power.

It's an interesting idea, this trade suggestion from Galloway. It's one that Jones should consider — seriously.

Thursday, January 30, 2014

When Parity Arrived and Jimmy Departed



Twenty years ago today, Jimmy Johnson coached in his final Super Bowl, guiding the Dallas Cowboys to their second straight championship.

Johnson's relationship with team owner Jerry Jones had been deteriorating that season. Jones' ego resented the attention Johnson had received since winning Super Bowl XXVII, and he wanted to have more say in football decisions, which had been Johnson's exclusive domain.

About two months after Johnson led the Cowboys to a second consecutive Super Bowl championship for the first and (so far) only time in their history, Johnson left the Cowboys. I don't think it was ever established whether Johnson resigned or was fired.

Dallas had hammered Buffalo the year before. In fact, it was the first (and, so far, only) time that two teams met in consecutive Super Bowls, and it was the fourth–ever Super Bowl rematch.

It wasn't much of a surprise that the Cowboys were 10½–point favorites in the rematch, considering they had beaten the Bills by 38 points the year before, but the point spread was a bit of a surprise. It was only the fourth time a team was favored by 10 points or more in a Super Bowl since the last time the Cowboys won one with Tom Landry as coach more than 15 years earlier.

As it turned out, the Cowboys covered that spread. But it didn't look too promising at halftime when the Bills led, 13–6.

"[T]hat only gave their fans false hope," writes Justin Tasch of the New York Daily News about Buffalo's second–half collapse, hastened by the emergence of Emmitt Smith.

In the second half, Dallas' Smith earned the Most Valuable Player award, scoring two touchdowns to lift the Cowboys to a 30–13 victory.

He finished the game with 132 yards on 30 carries. His longest run — for 15 yards — resulted in the touchdown that put Dallas ahead to stay in the third quarter.

In hindsight, Super Bowl XXVIII is an example of NFL parity. Some might even say it is a cautionary tale — but of what?

On this day 20 years ago, it was hard to imagine that both of these teams would be missing from most of the Super Bowls in the next two decades. Dallas did return a couple of years later — with former Oklahoma coach Barry Switzer at the helm — but Buffalo has rarely even won its division in the last 20 years.

Perhaps it is a reminder that, for good or ill, time marches on.

Tuesday, January 21, 2014

A Truly 'Super' Super Bowl



In its first 12 years of existence, the Super Bowl was a blowout more often than not.

A few games were relatively close (i.e., victory margins in single digits). The New York Jets beat the Baltimore Colts by nine points in Super Bowl III; the Colts turned back the Dallas Cowboys with a last–second field goal in Super Bowl V; the unbeaten Miami Dolphins topped the Washington Redskins by a touchdown in Super Bowl VII; and the Pittsburgh Steelers defeated the Cowboys by four points in Super Bowl X.

But those were the exceptions.

That made what happened 35 years ago today in Miami so remarkable.

There was no shortage of compelling storylines. The game was the first–ever Super Bowl rematch. The winner would be the first franchise to win three Super Bowls. The Cowboys were the defending Super Bowl champions, looking to repeat.

The Steelers were favored by 3½ points. The oddsmakers clearly expected a close game.

And the oddsmakers were right. The Steelers prevailed, 35–31, inspiring more than one sportswriter to observe that Super Bowl XIII lived up to the hype. It really was super.

Pittsburgh's Terry Bradshaw threw four TD passes and was the game's MVP. Roger Staubach had three TD passes, but he would have had four if Jackie Smith hadn't dropped a sure touchdown in the end zone in the third quarter. Staubach wouldn't let Smith take all the blame. "The play was wide open, so I tried to take a little off the ball and I think I threw it too low," he said after the game.

Perhaps the pass was a little low, but Smith knew that wasn't the whole story. "I just was wide open and I missed it," he said.

That dropped pass forced Dallas to settle for a field goal instead of scoring a game–tying touchdown, and the Cowboys never led again. They only led once all afternoon as it was — and briefly at that — after Mike Hegman stripped the ball from Bradshaw and rambled 37 yards to give Dallas a 14–7 advantage early in the second quarter.

The Steelers tied it up about a minute and a half later when Bradshaw hit John Stallworth for a 75–yard touchdown strike. They seized the lead in the closing seconds of the half when Bradshaw hit Rocky Bleier for a touchdown, capitalizing on Staubach's only interception of the day.

Dallas' Tony Dorsett led all rushers with 96 yards, but Pittsburgh's Franco Harris had the game's only TD run.

The victory — and the one the following year — sealed the Steelers' place as the team of the decade. They, along with Miami and Dallas, had two Super Bowl championships to their credit when the game began. They finished the decade with four Super Bowl titles in six years.

When did the Steelers wrap it up? I think an argument can be made that, when Smith dropped the pass and the Cowboys had to take a field goal instead of a touchdown, that was when the Steelers began to believe they would win, and the Cowboys began to believe they would lose.

Then Pittsburgh broke it open with two touchdowns in a 19–second span midway through the fourth quarter. Harris scored his touchdown run, then Pittsburgh recovered a fumbled kickoff and built the lead to 35–17 with 6:57 to play on Bradshaw's 18–yard strike to Lynn Swann.

Dallas managed two late touchdowns, but the deficit was simply too great to overcome.

Saturday, August 17, 2013

Attention, TWC and CBS: Settle Your Differences



I'm a football fan.

If you are also a football fan, you will understand what I am about to say.

Time Warner Cable has the concession in my apartment complex. As you may have heard, TWC is squabbling with CBS — and, until this matter is resolved, TWC is blacking out CBS affiliates and CBS–owned stations in certain cities.

One of which is Dallas.

Whether a city is blacked out depends on local terms of agreement, I suppose, because some cities, like Dallas, are blacked out, and others are not.

Now, I'll admit — without hesitation — that I don't know much about the business side of cable television.

But I do know that I have been waiting for football since February. And, because of this squabble, I haven't been able to watch the first two Cowboys preseason games.

Fox broadcasts NFC games during the regular season so I'll be able to watch the Cowboys play on Fox when the season begins.

Actually, missing the Cowboys games wouldn't bother me too much. See, I'm not a Cowboys fan. As I have mentioned here before, I am a Packers fan. Been one since I was a child. And the Packers, like the Cowboys, play in the NFC.

But I still like to watch the area teams, even if I don't tend to pull for them.

And if I don't have CBS when the season begins, I will be deprived of AFC games — and there are several teams in the AFC I would like to watch.

One more thing: Each teams plays a few interconference games which might be carried on CBS.

For me, this is a bad arrangement all the way around — and there are only a few weeks left before football season begins in earnest.

My advice to TWC and CBS is simple — Stop acting like petulant children, and settle your differences.

If this squabble drags into the official start of football season — and Bill Carter of the New York Times writes that this seems to be more and more likely — there are going to be some pretty angry subscribers, including yours truly.

Some of TWC's customers are pursuing a legal resolution. Frankly, I prefer to avoid being a part of that.

Perhaps most discouraging of all is BusinessWeek's Justin Bachman's conclusion that no one on either side has the influence necessary to resolve the dispute. Bachman writes that it may take the arrival of football season — and the blackouts of games involving NFL stars like Denver's Peyton Manning and New England's Tom Brady.

In the meantime, I suspect there are going to be a lot of increasingly frustrated football fans.

"The contract dispute is approaching the two–week mark with no hint of an imminent settlement," Carter writes. He goes on to quote a media analyst who believes "these guys are going to need the NFL to add a sense of urgency to this."

It isn't just the NFL. I'm a graduate of the University of Arkansas, and I've been pulling for the Razorbacks since I was a child. Back in those days, there were fewer college football broadcasts, and teams were restricted to one, maybe two appearances on TV during a regular season.

But now there are multiple channels carrying college football from morning until late at night on Saturdays in the fall.

Arkansas plays in the SEC, and CBS carries an SEC game of the week every Saturday. Now, Arkansas can appear — and has appeared — on other stations. But the big games — the ones with Texas A&M and Alabama and the LSU game on the Friday after Thanksgiving (which is always carried by CBS) might not be available to me.

What does the future hold? Well, Bachman reports that a spokesman for American Television Alliance, a pay–TV coalition, says, "If it goes to football season, I think Congress will definitely get involved."

Great. Congress can't agree on what to have for lunch.

Sunday, March 31, 2013

The Problem With the Cowboys



It is safe to say the town has been buzzing since it was announced that Dallas Cowboys quarterback Tony Romo has signed a contract extension worthy of a Super Bowl champion — even though he has never played in one.

"Romo may not exactly belong in the same neighborhood as Tom Brady," writes Mac Engel in the Fort Worth Star–Telegram, "but now he can afford at least a plot around the corner."

In fact, as Jarrett Bell of USA Today observed, the nearly 33–year–old signal caller has won only one playoff game in his career. It also happens to be the Cowboys' only playoff victory in the last 15 years.

(The Cowboys haven't been to a Super Bowl in nearly 20 years.)

Furthermore, it is safe to say that some folks are questioning Cowboys owner Jerry Jones' sanity.

I'm one of 'em. Have been for awhile.

It's a big club.

There were those who felt that way back when Jones bought the team and unceremoniously fired iconic coach Tom Landry. Still more came on board when Jones and Landry's successor, Jimmy Johnson, parted ways after Johnson won back–to–back Super Bowls.

Perhaps they were the visionaries.

I'll grant you, I had my doubts about Jones early on when he talked about being involved in everything at Valley Ranch ("socks 'n' jocks"). That was a little too hands–on for me — but, boy, did it tell us a few things about Jones' mindset.

At first, I was willing to overlook it as the understandable exuberance of a middle–aged man indulging in a boyhood fantasy — running a pro football team.

But I figured — perhaps naively — that he would leave all that behind after winning a couple of Super Bowls — and would leave the football team to the coach and his staff.

He hasn't.

Jones may fancy himself a shrewd judge of football players, but, in my book, he doesn't have much of a record — especially when it comes to picking quarterbacks. His tenure has been like watching a toddler grabbing for everything that shines brightly and catches his eye.

But, as Shakespeare wrote, "All that glitters is not gold."

The three Super Bowls the Cowboys won in the 1990s were won by a quarterback to whom the Cowboys were already committed before Jones acquired the team (Troy Aikman).

A glance at the names that have filled the QB slot since Aikman retired reveals a lineup of wannabes and has–beens. Mostly flash, little substance.

That is such a shame because the Dallas franchise was once synonymous with quarterback excellence.

It isn't that I think that Romo is a bad quarterback. He isn't. But he is inconsistent.

And that makes him mediocre.

I don't blame him for taking the contract. I doubt that anyone else would have offered him nearly as much. His window is rapidly closing.

But I do blame Jones for making the offer.

Someone else should be making the football decisions at Valley Ranch.

Sunday, February 10, 2013

Winning a City's Heart



I didn't grow up in Dallas, but my parents did, and we made about three or four trips to Dallas every year to visit my grandparents.

And I have lived here for the better part of the last 25 years so I feel I have a pretty good grasp of certain facts about this area.

Particularly sports allegiances.

And, even though I did not grow up here, there is one thing that I have always known about this area. I don't remember if anyone ever told me this. Maybe it's just been understood. Or implied.

Football reigns.

And, while it is hazardous to make generalizations about any state, I think that is true of Texas, not just the Dallas–Fort Worth Metroplex. It is the eternal truth of Texas. Football is king.

That is why an article by Drew Davison in today's Fort Worth Star–Telegram has been provoking discussions everywhere you turn — TV, radio, internet.

According to Davison, "The Texas Rangers are more popular than the Dallas Cowboys," a conclusion that is based on the fact that, in a survey of Dallas–Fort Worth area adults, more respondents said they had watched the Rangers play, either in person or on TV, or listened to a radio broadcast in the last year than had watched or listened to the Cowboys.

It's the first time the Rangers have outperformed the Cowboys in the survey, Davison wrote, and it made the DFW area one of a handful of places in the country where the baseball team is more popular — by that yardstick — than the football team.

I would argue that a couple of factors are at work here, and they both really relate to the same thing — Sports fans around here love winners.

Consequently, the survey shows fans gravitating to the team that is winning. The Rangers, long the doormats of the American League West, have been in the playoffs the last three years. In 2010 and 2011, they advanced to the World Series. They lost both, but they took the 2011 Series to seven games and were on the brink of winning it all a couple of times.

I have seen more people wearing Rangers apparel in the last few years. More folks wear Rangers caps in public. Attendance at home games has been stunningly high.

I've seen this at work here before. A few years ago, when the Dallas Mavericks won the NBA title, I noticed more Mavericks bumper stickers and window decals on cars and more people wearing Mavericks apparel. When the Dallas Stars won the Stanley Cup in 1999, there was a similar explosion in hockey's local popularity.

Call it the bandwagon effect, and, typically, it has been a fleeting thing. Within a couple of years of winning their championships, the Stars and Mavericks had reverted to their usual form, and their fan bases were back to the diehards.

I'm not entirely sure that will happen with the Rangers. But I'll get back to that.

Because of that affection for winners, I'm inclined to wonder if some of the respondents to the survey — frustrated by the Cowboys (22–26 with zero playoff appearances in the last three years and 2–7 in the postseason since their last trip to the Super Bowl in January 1996) — simply told the survey takers that they didn't pay attention to the Cowboys even if they did.

There's been plenty of local anger directed at Cowboys owner Jerry Jones since he bought the team 25 years ago and unceremoniously dumped iconic coach Tom Landry. Telling the pollster that they didn't pay attention to the team would be one way to get back at him, I suppose.

Most fans forgave him for firing Landry when Jones' choice to succeed Landry, Jimmy Johnson, won two Super Bowls, but then Jones' now–legendary ego apparently interfered, and he and Johnson came to a parting of the ways. He brought in Barry Switzer to lead the team for a few seasons, and Switzer did manage to win a Super Bowl with, essentially, the team Johnson had pieced together, but he couldn't co–exist with Jones, either.

The Dallas coaching job has been a revolving door ever since. Big–name players have signed high–dollar contracts, but there has been little to show for the investment.

It's frustrating for football fans. Can they be blamed for not wanting to be affiliated with this squad?

Even more frustrating is the fact that, in spite of the franchise's instability, the organization continues to raise ticket prices.

How sweet it would be for football fans if enough people refused to pay the ticket prices that the organization had no choice but to lower them. Unfortunately, however, enough people are willing to pay the price.

The Rangers were once an area joke. There have always been serious baseball fans around here, just as there are serious basketball fans and serious hockey fans, but they remained mostly silent until their local team began to win.

Things really started to turn around in the late 1980s when the Rangers signed veteran pitcher Nolan Ryan, who came here for the final five years of his Hall of Fame career. Now he runs the team, and he's built a solid winner that should be a contender on a regular basis.

Sure, there have been some complaints in the offseason about personnel developments for the Rangers, but, as Davison writes, "it's nothing compared to the vitriol thrown daily at the Cowboys." Even after losing star Josh Hamilton, the Rangers' popularity seems to be undiminished.

As Davison points out, the Rangers have raised their ticket prices, too, and it remains to be seen what kind of impact that will have on attendance. But I get the sense that, thanks to three consecutive playoff appearances, the Rangers will be harder to dislodge from the top of this local popularity poll than the Stars or Mavericks.

They don't seem to be a flash in the pan. That's good news for the Rangers and their followers.

And, although they probably don't think so, that's good news for the Cowboys, too. Because this area is so predisposed to love football, it's been as if the Cowboys have been given a pass since winning three Super Bowls in the 1990s.

But that reservoir of goodwill has been used up as far as many fans are concerned. It's time to put up or shut up.

The Cowboys now must work to regain the area's sports fans' allegiance. It won't be handed to them.

From time to time, one still hears talk about big–name coaches or big–name players who are being courted by the Cowboys. We've been through this all before many times, and I really thought the lesson had been learned.

Winning teams tend to have a certain chemistry, not a collection of resumes.

That's what wins a city's heart.

Thursday, January 31, 2013

All the Way Back



On this day in 1993, I watched the Dallas Cowboys hammer the Buffalo Bills in Super Bowl XXVII.

I was living in Norman, Okla., where I had just started my second semester of teaching journalism, but my thoughts were with my parents and my brother, about three hours south of me in Dallas, Texas.

I had been living less than an hour's drive from them for the previous four years while I pursued my master's degree. I had been working for the newspaper in Denton, and I had covered Jimmy Johnson's first press conference as head coach.

I spent many Sunday afternoons watching Cowboys games with my father. Sometimes my mother joined us, although she was frequently busy with her grading (she was a first grade teacher, as I have mentioned here before). She would sit at the dining table and grade papers — and listen to my father and me as we watched the game.

When something exciting happened, she would stop what she was doing and come in to the living room to watch with us for a few minutes before going back to her grading. If I close my eyes, I can still see her in her bathrobe, a cup of coffee nearby while she graded her papers at that dining room table.

Anyway, the Cowboys were not very successful in those years. They won four games in my first two years of graduate school, then barely missed the playoffs in my third year. (I would have liked to finish grad school in two years, but I was hindered by out–of–state tuition rates.)

The next fall, the Cowboys finally qualified for the playoffs and won their first game but lost their second.

The following summer, I moved to Oklahoma. And wouldn't you know it? The Cowboys made it to the Super Bowl.

I almost felt cheated. After my parents and I had invested all those Sundays in watching as Johnson rebuilt the team, they finally climbed the mountain after I moved away!

The Cowboys were all the way back.

I wanted to go back to Dallas to watch the game with my parents, but I knew I couldn't. The game didn't start until late on Sunday, and I had to teach a class Monday morning.

Had I known that it would be the blowout that it turned out to be, I would have come to Dallas for the weekend, watched the first half and left for Norman around 7 p.m.

But, in fact, the halftime score was Dallas 28, Buffalo 10. I don't know if I would have regarded that sufficient to leave at halftime — and, if I didn't, I might or might not have felt that the game was on ice by the end of the third quarter, when Dallas' lead was 31–17.

I wish I had the memory of watching that game with Mom, but, in hindsight, it is probably for the best that I stayed where I was.

To put things in context, the Bills had trailed Houston in the opening round of the playoffs, 35–3, before mounting the most incredible comeback I have ever seen. Buffalo won that game, 41–38, in overtime. In January 1993, you simply could not count the Bills out.

The Bills had played in the previous two Super Bowls and lost both. Most NFL fans — myself included — wanted to see someone else — anyone else — represent the AFC. But the Bills were a bit defiant about winning, and they didn't care who pulled against them.

Well, anyway, knowing the road the Bills had traveled to Super Bowl XXVII, it was probably for the best that I stayed in Norman that weekend and watched the game in my home. The Cowboys scored three touchdowns in the final period to cap perhaps the most lopsided Super Bowl I have ever witnessed, 52–17.

I still would have liked to watch it with my parents — especially my mother, who died a couple of years later.

In a game in which 69 points are scored, it's hard, if not impossible, to identify a pivotal moment. About all you can do, I suppose, is pick out memorable moments.

And Super Bowl XXVII had plenty of those.

I guess the one everyone remembers is the play when Buffalo QB Frank Reich fumbled the ball and Dallas' Leon Lett picked it up and began ambling toward the opposite end zone. The big man started showing off near the goal line, not noticing that Buffalo receiver Don Beebe had overtaken him.

Beebe knocked the ball from Lett's hands; it bounced into the end zone and out of bounds and was ruled a touchback.

The game was out of hand by that time, but it kept the Cowboys from setting a scoring record that would still be standing today. If Lett had scored, Dallas would have eclipsed the number of points the 49ers piled up on Denver a few years earlier.

That was a minor point, really. As I watched the final minutes of that game, I thought of my grandmother, a longtime Dallas resident and the only one of my grandparents who had been alive the last time the Cowboys won a Super Bowl but had been dead only a few years when Dallas routed Buffalo.

She was always proud of the fact that Tom Landry went to her church.

I thought of my other grandmother, also a longtime Dallas resident who died before Landry's second Super Bowl title but lived long enough to see his first.

And I thought of my grandfathers, neither of whom lived to see the Cowboys play in a Super Bowl.

I never really knew my grandfathers, but I think they, like most Southerners, loved football. That goes for my grandmothers, too.

I wondered what any of my grandparents would have said on that occasion 20 years ago — or of the Cowboys' long road all the way back to football's biggest stage.

Saturday, January 26, 2013

Super Bowl XXXVII: A Cautionary Tale



When I was growing up, the Oakland Raiders were the most successful team in the NFL.

Well, with the exception of Super Bowl championships. They were damn near unbeatable during the regular season, but they usually came up just short of the Super Bowl in the playoffs.

They won a few Super Bowls in the late '70s and early to mid–80s, but then the Raiders found themselves wandering the NFL's wilderness for nearly two decades — until they appeared in Super Bowl XXXVII 10 years ago today.

But the Raiders lost to Tampa Bay on that day, 48–21, and they haven't been back to the Super Bowl since.

Ten years ago today, the Raiders gave up more points than any team has allowed in any Super Bowl since San Diego gave up 49 points to San Francisco in 1995.

I always thought that was just bad luck for the Raiders. They had the NFL's best offense, and they were favored by four points — but the Buccaneers had the league's best defense, and Tampa Bay picked off Oakland QB Rich Gannon five times.

Dexter Jackson had two interceptions in the first half, making him the first player to do that in the Super Bowl. Teammates Dwight Smith and Derrick Brooks picked off the other three passes and ran them back for touchdowns in the second half.

I attributed the Raiders' woes to the fact that Jon Gruden, Tampa Bay's coach, had been Oakland's coach for the four previous years and knew a great deal about Oakland's personnel. I felt it gave him an edge in preparing for the Super Bowl.

But Tim Brown, wide receiver for the Raiders at the time, is alleging that Gruden's replacement in Oakland, Bill Callahan, deliberately undermined the Raiders.

Brown said Callahan changed the offensive game plan at the last minute, shifting the emphasis from the ground game to an aerial attack, and "blew this thing up."

As a result, Brown said, the Raiders went into the game "absolutely knowing that we [had] no shot."

"There's only one potential flaw in Brown's logic," writes NBC's Mike Florio. "He assumes that the new game plan came from Callahan. Who's to say that the order to throw the ball 60 times didn't come from the late Al Davis, who had a special affinity for throwing the football, and also for meddling directly in the coaching of the team?"

That's a good point.

Now, even though I live in Dallas, Texas, I am not a fan of the Dallas Cowboys. More to the point, I suppose, I am not a fan of Jerry Jones.

I have lived here for 20 of the last 24 years. I was working for an area newspaper as a sports writer/editor when Jones bought the Cowboys. I covered the press conference in which he announced the hiring of Jimmy Johnson to be the successor to Tom Landry.

And I have watched Jones display all the worst, most meddlesome and tyrannical characteristics that guys like Al Davis and George Steinbrenner possessed.

As a result, I'm inclined to think that what Florio writes should serve as a cautionary tale for Jones and those who would follow his example.

Tuesday, January 15, 2013

When the Orange Got Crushed



Before the 1977 NFL season, the Denver Broncos were practically invisible.

They never made the playoffs — so it follows that they had never been to a Super Bowl. In fact, they rarely had a winning season.

But that changed in 1977.

The Broncos didn't win with their offense that year. Half the teams in the AFC scored more points than Denver did.

Denver won with defense. No team in the AFC and only two teams in the NFC allowed fewer points than the Denver Broncos, whose defense earned the nickname "Orange Crush." Only one team — division rival and defending NFL champion Oakland — scored 20 points or more against Denver during the regular season.

My memory is that Denver's defense captured the imagination of the sports world that year. But, in the end, the Broncos couldn't capture the NFL title.

They've played in several Super Bowls now, but, on this day 35 years ago, the Broncos played in their first–ever Super Bowl. Appearing in the Super Bowl became almost a routine thing for Denver fans in the 1980s and less so in the 1990s (although the '90s brought the Broncos their first triumph), but in 1977 it was a brand–new experience for them and for their team.

And, as has been the case with most first–time Super Bowl teams, the outcome of the game wasn't favorable.

I guess the enduring memory for me from Super Bowl XII is of Dallas' Butch Johnson snagging a Roger Staubach pass that seemed to be just beyond his reach, tumbling into the end zone and bouncing to his feet, ready to pounce on the ball — and he would have, too, if the official had not signaled a touchdown.

To this day, I still don't know if it was a legitimate catch, but in that pre–challenge era, there was no way for Denver coach Red Miller to dispute it.

It was just one of those can't–miss kind of games — for the Cowboys, not the Broncos.

Staubach completed more than two–thirds of his passes, helping the Cowboys race to a 13–0 halftime lead. Eventually, the Cowboys won, 27–10, giving Dallas coach Tom Landry his second — and last — NFL title.

But even more remarkably, the most valuable player award went to not one but two defensive players, Dallas' Randy White and Harvey Martin.

White and Martin combined for seven tackles and two sacks of Denver quarterback Craig Morton.

Once upon a time, Morton had been Dallas' quarterback, but Morton was stymied in Super Bowl V, and Landry alternated between Morton and Staubach for the first half of the 1971 season before settling on Staubach.

Morton's career in Dallas was over. He stayed in Dallas a few more seasons, but Staubach was the starter, and Morton looked for a fresh start. A few years with the Giants didn't work out for him, and, in 1977, he found himself in Denver.

Morton completed only 42% of his passes that season — but, as I say, the Broncos only gave up 20 points or more once during the regular season so Denver really didn't need him to contribute much.

The Steelers scored 21 on the Broncos in the first round of the playoffs, but the Broncos unexpectedly scored more points than they had in any other game all year (even though Morton completed less than half of his passes) and advanced to the AFC championship game, where they beat the Oakland Raiders.

But Dallas' Doomsday Defense overwhelmed Morton, who completed about one–fourth of his passes and was intercepted four times.

Monday, January 16, 2012

Winning the Big One ... Finally



As they began the 1971 season, the Dallas Cowboys had been known as the team that couldn't win it all for a long time.

Well, it was a long time by Texas standards.

The Cowboys had actually been in existence for a little more than a decade when they finally won the conference title in January 1971 and went on to play in their first Super Bowl ever. As expansion teams go, that's a pretty rapid ascension, but they lost that Super Bowl to the Baltimore Colts on a last–second field goal — and, once again, fell short of Texas–sized expectations.

That did not happen on this date in 1972.

I don't know how — or, for that matter, precisely when — it started, but sometime in the late 1960s the Dallas defense acquired the nickname "Doomsday."

The Cowboys of those days always seemed to have talented players on offense, but the defense was the team's foundation.

And it was frequently the failure of the offense that kept the team from advancing to the next level.

In January 1972, though, Roger Staubach had been the starting quarterback most of the year and enjoyed what may have been his best season as a pro. With Staubach in charge on the field, the offense finally matched the defense, and the rest of the league was powerless to do anything about it.

Certainly, Miami appeared powerless on this day 40 years ago.

Most Super Bowl teams have scored at least one touchdown, but, on that day, Miami did not. Even the few teams that failed to score a touchdown got more points than the Dolphins did — and, unless a future Super Bowl participant is held to a safety or shut out completely, Miami's standard for scoring futility is going to remain on the record books.

Doomsday held Miami to a single Garo Yepremian field goal in the first half, essentially smothering the Dolphins' key offensive weapons — receiver Paul Warfield and running backs Larry Csonka and Jim Kiick.

When the Cowboys had the ball, Staubach completed nearly two–thirds of his passes, two of which went for touchdowns as Dallas prevailed, 24–3. Staubach was named the game's MVP and was jubilant, recalling on the 25th anniversary of that triumph that "I don't think I ever felt any better as an athlete than ... I felt after that game."

And why shouldn't he? Staubach and his teammates shook a monkey the size of King Kong from their backs that day.

Tuesday, January 10, 2012

The Value of a Single Catch



I have often wondered how different professional football would have been if the San Francisco 49ers had not won the NFC championship on this day 30 years ago.

I've been following sports since I was a child, and if there is one thing I have learned, it is that there really is such a thing as destiny — at least when it comes to sports teams.

Some franchises never overcome their initial reputations as losers, and some allow those reputations to continue to hinder their progress long after they have risen above those reputations.

Sometimes franchises that have been struggling surge to the top from nowhere, get close to grabbing the brass ring but come up short and then fall back into relative obscurity — after which you might hear from them again in another 10 or 15 years.

But sometimes those franchises that surge to the top break on through to the other side and win it all — and a dynasty is born.

I believe that's what happened with the San Francisco 49ers 30 years ago today.

The 49ers weren't strangers to the playoffs, but they hadn't been participants in the postseason for nearly a decade.

Shoot, it had been five years since they had had a winning season.

In their memorable showdown with the Dallas Cowboys on that Sunday afternoon, the 49ers introduced the West Coast Offense to football fans, many of whom were seeing it for the first time. If it had failed, Joe Montana might never have enjoyed the career that he did — and the West Coast Offense might not have risen to the prominence it did.

At least, at that time.

It's safe to assume that, if Dallas had won the game, something else would have been the popular offense — and some other quarterback would have emerged as the NFL's top signal–caller — of the 1980s.

Failure on this day would have meant that the Cowboys would return to the Super Bowl for the fourth time in seven years. Success for the 49ers, however, brought the energy and excitement of a new team in the Super Bowl — and that is what the 49ers were in January 1982, first–timers in the Super Bowl (as were their opponents, the Cincinnati Bengals).

But it might never have happened if Montana hadn't completed a six–yard pass to Dwight Clark in the end zone, an iconic moment that was captured in photographs that appeared in newspapers across the country the next day.

It isn't hard for me to imagine Bill Walsh and his coaching staff abandoning the West Coast Offense if it failed to produce a conference championship on this day in 1982.

Walsh was kind of like football's version of Franklin D. Roosevelt. From the moment he became the 49ers' coach, his mission was to revive a foundering franchise, just as it was Roosevelt's mission to revive the nation. FDR's presidency in the 1930s was very experimental; if something didn't have the desired effect, it would be scrapped and something else would replace it.

If the 49ers had failed to win the NFC championship on this day 30 years ago, Walsh and his staff certainly would have re–evaluated their roster — and they might well have concluded that their personnel was better suited for a different strategy.

That doesn't mean that the West Coast Offense would have died three decades ago today, never to be seen on an NFL field again.

No, I'm sure someone would have resurrected it — and probably thrived with it — if it had gone unused for years following a 49ers defeat 30 years ago today because defensive coordinators would have spent little, if any, time planning for it.

But Montana completed that pass to Clark — and the 49ers went on to win four of the next nine Super Bowls.

And the West Coast Offense set the pace in professional football for the next two decades.

Friday, January 28, 2011

A Rivalry Like No Other



This year's Super Bowl is a little more than a week away.

The Super Bowl has been played every year for nearly 50 years, usually in southerly, sun–splashed climes. It's been played often in California, New Orleans, Miami, and it is not a complete stranger to Texas. It was played in Houston twice.

This year, however, it will be played in Dallas — for the first time.

Lately, the folks in Irving and Dallas have been unrolling all their new facilities and vehicles and gadgets that are intended to accommodate the needs and desires of visitors in town for the big game — and earn local entrepreneurs a neat profit in the process.

Back in the summer and into the early fall, North Texans harbored hopes that the Dallas Cowboys might host their own Super Bowl, but those hopes were dashed rather rapidly.

I figure that, in the long run, that will be good news for local merchants, who are counting on the revenue from visitors from two cities. If the local team had made it to the Super Bowl, logic tells me that approximately half of the out–of–town visitors would have been eliminated.

So it's a good thing for all those folks who want to make money from this — especially the ones who run the hotels and the motels, who would have lost the income from all those out–of–towners who will need rooms for several days.

People are always going to have to eat, even if they're from a nearby community and only in town on the day of the game, so restaurateurs wouldn't have been affected quite as severely, but they, too, would have had to lower their expectations.

But the Cowboys went into a tailspin early. Between the Cowboys' and the Longhorns' declines, football dropped from sports fans' radars around here, and, remarkably, the sports talk in this area in October did not focus on football but on baseball, as the Rangers advanced to their first–ever World Series.

I grew up in Arkansas. I have lived in this area for most of the last 25 years. Until a few months ago, I never thought I would see a time during football season when baseball was the leading topic of conversation, but that is exactly what happened here.

It was gratifying for baseball fans, but it often felt, to me, as if the natural order of things had been disrupted.

There have been times when it's felt like one of those alternate reality episodes from the Twilight Zone. It was astonishing to witness the vacuum that was created when the Cowboys and the Longhorns crashed to earth. Talk about tumbling into a black hole.

Only recently, it seems, have people around here remembered that they were going to have a Super Bowl here in early February. It is almost as if the plan to host a Super Bowl locally depended upon whether the Cowboys would be in it — and, when it became clear that the Cowboys would not be in the playoffs, the right to host the Super Bowl defaulted to some other city.

It's probably going to be a good thing for the economy that Cowboys Stadium (known locally as Jerry World for Cowboys owner Jerry Jones) will host two cities, but I can't help thinking of what might have been.

Assuming that everything else would have been unchanged — if the Cowboys had been the NFC's representative in the Super Bowl, who would have been waiting for them from the AFC? None other than the Pittsburgh Steelers — and, if you've been following football as long as I have (or longer), you know what magic that matchup conjures up in one's mind.

There are all sorts of rivalries in football, but the Dallas–Pittsburgh rivalry in the Super Bowl is unique. I guess you could say it's been a rivalry of milestones.

It began 35 years ago, on Jan. 18, 1976, when the teams met in Super Bowl X. The Cowboys, as I mentioned earlier this week, became the first wild–card team to play in a Super Bowl on that day, but the Steelers won the game, 21–17.

Even if you aren't old enough to remember that day, if you've watched any Super Bowl highlights shows in the last 35 years, you're all but sure to have seen Lynn Swann's amazing acrobatic catch from that game.

Some folks will tell you it was the greatest catch ever made in pro football.

Then, three years later, on Jan. 21, 1979, the teams met in the first–ever Super Bowl rematch.

Superstitious people tend to be wary of the number 13, but Super Bowl XIII was far from unlucky for football fans. Not only was it the first rematch of a Super Bowl, but it would also mark the first time that a team won its third Super Bowl title, no matter who won the game.

Once again, the Steelers were victorious. The final score was 35–31, and, as one weekly newsmagazine declared in its headline on its game story, "This one really was Super."

Part of what made it super was a fantastic fourth–quarter comeback by Dallas that was brilliantly captured in NFL Films' wrapup, which can be seen above.

In hindsight, that game featured many of the greatest football players of my youth — Terry Bradshaw, Roger Staubach, Tony Dorsett, Franco Harris, etc., etc. But the play that will always stand out in my memory is of Jackie Smith, a tight end who played much of his career for woeful St. Louis Cardinals teams, dropping a pass in the end zone that could have altered the outcome.

I think everyone watching the game, whether they were pulling for the Steelers or the Cowboys, felt bad for Smith, writhing in agony in the Orange Bowl end zone after dropping that pass.

"Bless his heart," I remember an announcer saying, "he's got to be the sickest man in America."

It took nearly 20 years, but the Cowboys finally got their revenge in Super Bowl XXX, which was played 15 years ago today. It really wasn't a surprise. Dallas went into that game favored by nearly two touchdowns.

With that victory, the Cowboys pulled even with the San Francisco 49ers in total Super Bowl victories with five. At that time, the Steelers had won only the Super Bowls in which they played in the 1970s — their two wins over Dallas along with wins over Minnesota and Los Angeles. Pittsburgh has won two Super Bowls since that time and now leads all other teams in that category with six Super Bowl titles.

It was also the first time that a football team won its third Super Bowl in four years. That's an accomplishment that has been matched only by the New England Patriots.

Steeler fans probably don't like to think about that game too much. Pittsburgh has been to seven Super Bowls, more than any other team, and the one they played in 15 years ago today was their only loss — so far.

As a Packer fan, I hope that will not still be the case a week from Sunday.

Tuesday, January 25, 2011

The First Wild Card to Win It All



It might have been appropriate if the New York Jets had won the AFC championship on Sunday.

Why? Well, because it was 30 years ago today that a wild card team first won a Super Bowl.

If the Jets had beaten the Steelers on Sunday, the Super Bowl would have been played between two wild–card teams. I don't think that has ever happened before.

Four other wild–card teams have won Super Bowls since the Raiders did it 30 years ago, and three of them have done so since the dawn of the 21st century.

But, even in 1980, wild cards weren't new to pro football. They had been part of the playoff landscape for a decade by the time the Oakland Raiders defeated the Philadelphia Eagles in New Orleans on Jan. 25, 1981. And a wild card made it to the Super Bowl for the first time five years later.

But until this day 30 years ago, no wild card team had ever won a Super Bowl. The Dallas Cowboys came close back in Super Bowl X (which was also played in New Orleans), but they eventually lost to the Pittsburgh Steelers.

What seemed to surprise people the most about the Super Bowl that was played 30 years ago today was not necessarily the fact that the wild card won it — although that was surprising.

It was the relative ease with which the Raiders cruised to a 14–0 lead at the end of the first quarter — and ultimately prevailed, 27–10. When you consider who they were playing, that was positively stunning.

The Eagles had been one of the NFL's elite teams in the 1980 season, racing to an 11–1 start. Ron Jaworski was the top–ranked quarterback in the NFC. The Eagle defense kept all its opponents from scoring more than 24 points (and held most of their foes under 20) until Dallas scored 35 against Philly on the final day of the regular season.

The Raiders, on the other hand, caught just about everyone by surprise. They had made a lot of changes during the offseason, and I think most observers just wanted to wait and see how all the new parts would function together. They got off to kind of a sluggish start (2–3) and had to deal with the loss of their starting quarterback to a broken leg, but then Jim Plunkett came in, the Raiders won six in a row, and Oakland actually finished tied with San Diego atop their division.

But San Diego was awarded the division crown on a tiebreaker — which meant that, when the teams played for the AFC title, the game was played in San Diego. When they played there in the second week of the season, the Raiders lost in overtime. When the AFC title was on the line, however, Oakland surged to a 21–7 lead in the first quarter and never looked back.

It was more of the same two weeks later when the Raiders and Eagles faced each other in the Super Bowl.

The Eagles came into the game favored by three points. That surprised me because I really felt that most people believed the Eagles would win by a wider margin.

But that, of course, was not what happened.

When the game was over, everyone praised the Raiders' performance — and the Raiders did deserve that praise — but I recall less attention being given to what may well have been Jaworski's worst performance as a pro.

It was certainly his worst performance on a postseason stage. He completed fewer than half of his passes and was intercepted three times.

And by the time he threw his only touchdown pass in a Super Bowl, the Raiders had built a 24–3 fourth–quarter lead.

It was the greatest defeat, I have no doubt, of Jaworski's career.

But the flip side was that it must have been the pinnacles of the careers of the many castoffs whose careers were revived by Al Davis. The Raiders' bombastic owner picked up guys like Plunkett, Kenny King, John Matuszak and many others who asked only to be given a chance to prove that they could still contribute.

Plunkett threw three touchdown passes — two to Cliff Branch and one to King that covered 80 yards, a record that still stands. He was named the game's MVP.

What became of the team that cut Plunkett earlier in 1980? Well, I guess you could say they did all right.

That would be the San Francisco 49ers, An up–and–coming quarterback named Joe Montana emerged as their quarterback in 1980 and wound up taking San Francisco to — and winning — four Super Bowls in the '80s — starting the next year.

But that's another story.

Monday, January 17, 2011

The Stupor Bowl



In the early years of the Super Bowl, the winner tended to be known pretty early in the game.

Sometimes the score alone told you how lopsided the game had been. Sometimes the score appeared to be competitive, but if you had watched the game, you knew how deceptive that kind of appearance could be.

Super Bowl V, which was played between the Baltimore Colts and the Dallas Cowboys on this day in Miami 40 years ago, went right down to the wire.

I don't remember if I knew the Super Bowl would be played that day. I probably did. I was collecting football cards in those days, and I may have known.

But if I did know it was Super Bowl Sunday, I probably expected to watch the game with my father and maybe a few of the neighborhood kids, with whom I recall playing a game of touch football on our country road upon my family's return from church.

In those days, Super Bowls, like more than 90% of pro football games at that time, were played during the daylight hours. I don't remember what time the game began, but you can tell, in the attached clip, that the sun was shining brightly when Jim O'Brien's last–second field goal won the game for Baltimore so my best guess is that the game must have kicked off around 1 or 2 p.m. Central time.

My father was a college professor, and on that day, some of his students came over. In hindsight, I can only presume that my parents invited them over. My father had recently purchased a color television, and I guess he wanted to show it off a little.

At the time, though, I'm not sure what I thought. My brother and I were acquainted with many of my father's students. They had been to our home before to help my father landscape our property.

My father taught religion which required him to be ordained; as such, he sometimes performed the marriage ceremonies for his students, and it seems to me that perhaps one or two of the couples he married were there that day.

Perhaps my mother served snacks to the visitors, but I have no memory of that. I certainly don't remember anything like a party, just a group of people gathered in our living room to watch the football game. It wasn't a terribly large living room, either.

The neighborhood kids and I joined my parents and the guests to watch the game, which was sloppy but close. How sloppy was it? The two teams combined for nearly a dozen turnovers, setting a Super Bowl record. Seven of those turnovers were made by the winning team, setting a record for a winning squad. The Cowboys committed 10 penalties, yet another record.

Most of the time, the Super Bowl MVP award goes to an offensive player — often a quarterback although it has sometimes gone to a running back or a wide receiver. In fact, the first four Super Bowl MVPs were all quarterbacks.

But Super Bowl V was an exception. It was the first of only seven times that a defensive player won the award.

And it is the only time that a member of the losing team won the award.

Maybe that's the real penalty you pay for committing seven turnovers and still winning the game. You must forfeit the MVP. But the truth was that no one on the Colts, not even the great Johnny Unitas, played well enough to be recognized as the most valuable player.

Not surprisingly, some folks dubbed the game the "Stupor Bowl."

Mom might well have served something that afternoon. She often entertained guests in our home and frequently served things she had prepared herself. I was particularly fond of mini–meatballs she made and served in a kind of barbecue sauce.

Cooking was just one of her many talents — but that's another story.

I can't say that I remember if there were any such snacks in the house that afternoon. If there were, I probably gave them no more thought than I did on any other occasion when there were people in the house.

And, in four decades, I can't really say I've given much more thought than that to Super Bowl V. Today, I remember only two things clearly about that game — Jim O'Brien's last–second, game–winning field goal from a rather pedestrian distance of 32 yards, and the Cowboys and Colts swarming after a loose football that kept squirting away from everyone in a play that looked more like a slapstick routine than a clip from a champioinship game.

As I understand it, the Colts' Bubba Smith still refuses to wear the ring he won that day because he was so embarrassed by the team's performance. It's the only Super Bowl ring he won during his playing days, but he won't wear it. I doubt that anyone has argued with him about it. He's a big man. Maybe they'll slip the ring on his finger when they're about to bury him.

And Chuck Howley, the only man from a losing team (so far) to win a Super Bowl MVP award, turned it down. I don't know what they'll do with that after Howley passes.

Thursday, December 16, 2010

Cowboys-Redskins Once Meant Something



This Sunday, the Dallas Cowboys and the Washington Redskins will meet in a renewal of what was once a great rivalry in the NFL.

They'll be playing in Cowboys Stadium in nearby Arlington and, because of the way the broadcasting rules are set up in the NFL, no other games can be televised locally while the team from the local market is playing a game in its home stadium.

That's too bad because there are several other games with playoff implications being played at the same time. But, if you live in the Dallas–Fort Worth Metroplex, unless you have access to the satellite TV package that gives you the broadcasts of every NFL game being played on Sunday, you're stuck with the Cowboys and the Redskins.

There was a time when football fans around here wouldn't have felt they were stuck. They would have eagerly anticipated the game, stocked up on gameday food and drinks — and taken the phone off the hook when the game began.

It was more than a game. It was an event.

A Cowboys–Redskins game doesn't hold much allure now, with the Redskins at 5–8 and the Cowboys at 4–9, but 31 years ago, it was a different story.

On Dec. 16, 1979, at Texas Stadium in Irving, Roger Staubach brought the Cowboys back not once but twice from 13–point deficits against the Redskins, the second time for keeps. As a result of their 35–34 victory over the Redskins, the Cowboys went on to the playoffs, where they lost to the Los Angeles Rams. The Redskins went home.

Staubach's career ended shortly after the Cowboys' season did. Consequently, his last victory as a pro came against the Redskins.

Ironically, his coach, Tom Landry, also recorded his last victory (in 1988) against the Cowboys' old nemesis, and Landry's successor, Jimmy Johnson, recorded his first victory (and the only win of his inaugural NFL season) against the Redskins.

By that time, the mere mention of the Cowboys–Redskins rivalry could still make Dallas football fans' hearts beat a little faster, but the series clearly had lost something. Maybe it was the fact that, a decade after Staubach's departure, the Cowboys no longer possessed an offense that was capable of striking quickly and often.

Watch the attached clip and you'll see that there was a reason why they called Staubach "Captain Comeback."

But there was also a reason why the Dallas defensive unit was known in the 1970s as "Doomsday." You can see that, too, in the Cowboys' miraculous comeback against the Redskins 31 years ago today.

There were many reasons why the Cowboys–Redskins rivalry was special in those days.

Maybe, someday, it will be again.

Monday, December 6, 2010

The Party's Over



It seems fitting, I guess, that Don Meredith, the famed "Dandy Don," as his Monday Night Football colleague Howard Cosell called him, died last night at the age of 72.

For it was while I was watching Meredith and Cosell and their other colleague, Frank Gifford, doing a Monday Night broadcast that I learned that John Lennon had been killed.

The 30th anniversary of that event will be this Wednesday, and I expect to be writing about it later.

I was in college, and I was drinking beer and eating nachos with a couple of my buddies when Cosell made his announcement. The beer may have clouded my memory a bit, but what I recall is that Meredith said nothing about Lennon on that occasion. He and Gifford apparently sat in the booth and listened while Cosell informed the viewing audience that Lennon had been shot and killed only minutes before.

The thing I remember about Meredith's Monday Night Football career was his habit of bursting into a rendition of "Turn Out the Lights (the Party's Over)" when the outcome was no longer in doubt.

I'm not sure when he did it the first time. I just know he became famous for doing it, and I always knew, when he started singing, that it was time for me to go to bed.

I have few memories of Meredith's playing days. He retired from the NFL before I really began following it, but I do have spotty memories of seeing him play in the infamous "Ice Bowl" against Vince Lombardi's Green Bay Packers.

I remember, when I was a child, the adults in my world dismissed the Dallas Cowboys as "the team that couldn't win the big one." Some of that criticism was directed at the head coach, Tom Landry, but much of it focused on the team's field general — its quarterback, Don Meredith.

That criticism wasn't fair, but it never really went away until Roger Staubach started playing for the Cowboys — and Dallas finally won the big one.

Granted, Meredith didn't compile eye–popping numbers while playing for Dallas, but he was the Cowboys' quarterback in their early days, when wins were few and far between.

The fact that the Cowboys of the 1960s were ever in the position of participating in the postseason at all was due, in large part, to Meredith's play.

I hope Meredith didn't carry that criticism with him for the rest of his life. And, judging from what I saw during his Monday Night Football career, I don't think he did.

Rest in peace, Dandy Don. The party's over.