Still waiting…and waiting…and waiting

Rick Mauch

Twenty-seven years ago a young sportswriter was so excited to be covering his first “big game.”

Isn’t that how we refer to that annual contest that pits the supposedly two best teams in the NFL? We can’t call it by its actual name, can we, per the greed of the NFL with their always watching eyes waiting to sue?

We can, however, say that we are looking forward to the Superb Owl party (fans of a certain TV comedy vampire show will understand). Whether he shows up this year remains to be seen.

And by the way, as former Dallas Cowboy Duane Thomas once asked, “If it’s the ultimate game, why is it being played again next year?”

Anyway, back to that “big game.” That young sportswriter was none other than the guy penning this column you’ve gotten this far into (thanks, by the way. If you ask me who that guy was next time we meet, I’ll know where you stopped reading).

The game was in Arizona — Tempe, not Glendale, but still way too hot than any place should be this time of the year. It featured the Dallas Cowboys and the Pittsburgh Steelers, two of the sports’ legendary franchises — though one has lost a bit of its luster since then.

Take a guess as to which. Here’s a hint, it’s not the one that doesn’t have a star on its helmet.

I realize I could have said that in a less confusing manner. But then, confusing is what the Cowboys do best. As in why haven’t they been back? Why do folks continue to refer to them as “America’s Team?”

Shouldn’t a team representing an entire nation play for at least one world championship between the time said nation celebrates its third and fourth centennials?

Back to my original thought. I had just moved to Weatherford from Tyler and went to work for the Weatherford Democrat as their sports editor. I had not been there two weeks when I was told if the Cowboys went to the, er, “big game” I would be sent to cover it. They did and I did.

Remember, I was full of all sorts of energy and thrills back then. My excitement was equal to what it would be today to wake up to the smell of bacon.

Age changes one’s perspective on excitement.

The Cowboys go to the, er, “big game” all the time, was what I was thinking. After all, it was their third, er, “big game” in four seasons. Surely there would be five or six more on the near horizon.

Oh, the naivety of youth. It causes us to waste money on silliness such as Pet Rocks (Google it, young folks) and to dream the impossible dream — that the Cowboys would ever get back to that, er, “big game.”

Nearly three decades later and we’re still waiting. The Cowboys have gone through numerous quarterbacks, some pretty good, such as Tony Romo and Dak Prescott (yes, he’s good, not great, but still good) and some who couldn’t hit a wide open body of water — aka Quincy Carter.

They’ve had a couple of pretty decent coaches. Bill Parcells miraculously got the Cowboys to the playoffs with the aforementioned Carter, and I still think Wade Phillips was a lot better than folks gave him credit.

The current puppet, er, coach, Mike McCarthy is not bad. I wouldn’t trust him with in-game decisions any more than I would trust poor Quincy to throw a spiral, but he’s about as good as you’re going to get with Jerry Jones running the show.

And there is the reason this sportswriter — not so young anymore, but still a long ways from being over the hill — is still waiting, along with many Cowboys faithful. Jerry Jones knows about as much about football as Lindsey Lohan does about sobriety.

Now, I’m not saying the Cowboys won’t somehow stumble into another, er, “big game” before Jerry shuffles off this mortal coil, but I’d bet your house it doesn’t happen. I’d bet mine, but I don’t do well sleeping in a tent and there is always that slimmest of chances it could happen.

Hey, if Steven Seagal can make a good movie (remember “Under Siege”), then anything is truly possible. Cowboys fans can only hope that, unlike Seagal, there is more greatness ahead.

I’m not sure what kind of martial arts kicks Seagal is still able to do at age 70, but I’m betting they’re better and more accurate than the current state of the Cowboys’ kicking game.

Too soon?

Meanwhile, once again this year we watch as two other teams clash in the, er, “big game.” A lot of folks are tired of attending and hosting Superb Owl parties waiting for their favorite bird, er, team to make another appearance.