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Julia Gorin

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Conservatives Are From Mars, Liberals Are From San Francisco
by Burt Prelutsky
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America Alone
by Mark Steyn
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Terrell Owens Begins His ONE Year Career With The Dallas Cowboys
The meter is ticking in Big D...
[by Patrick Hurley] 3/23/06

This is the year the Cowboys need to win the Super Bowl. When they don’t, their franchise will be in shambles just like San Francisco and Philadelphia before them. General Sherman Owens will march right through their locker room and destroy everything and everyone in his path on his way to the sea of self-glory. One day after he signed his ten million dollar contract, he was already shooting off his mouth and cackling like a frenzied hen about how much he dislikes his former employer in the City of Brotherly Love, which was a misnomer as long as he played there.

Take notice Jerry Jones and Bill Parcells. You are next.

Dallas wants to win a championship so badly they signed this buffoon in the hopes he would be the answer to their quest for football glory. He will reward them for the first twelve months, or until one of his teammates sets him off, which history tells us is about the same time frame. When that happens, the fans in Dallas will suddenly realize that the moron who taunted them by placing his touchdown ball on their beloved Star at midfield is back in their midst. It will not be long before he is bringing out his little flair pen and signing his personal logo, 666, on the foreheads of any coach or player who dares to disagree with him.

With people like Owens, and Billy Martin, Latrell Spreewell, Charles Barkley, Ron Artest, Jeff George, Ryan Leaf, Albert Belle, Dick Allen, Duane Thomas and the other thugs before him, it is only a matter of time before he chokes, strangles, spits, flips off, tosses a heckler through a plate glass window, pouts, criticizes or embarrasses himself and the team he plays on. He cannot help it. He just happens to believe that he is god in his universe and the rest of the people around him are inferior mortals who cannot comprehend the depth of his greatness. Like the others, the Cowboys better hurry up and win before his talents turn against them in their efforts to play as a team. He is likely to go to the Pro Bowl and help them get into the playoffs THIS year, yes. After that, like selling your soul to the devil, America’s Team will become America’s Turmoil. And, after THAT, we will be subjected to more blather from Owens and his ranting agent at yet another press conference that ESPN will repeat 1,346 times until we all wish both of them will finally go away. Forever.

But, for now, the NFL soap opera is intact. The only saving grace to this maudlin mix of hysteria and smugness is Bill Parcells. Up to now, he has not commented on this blatant, “we want to win at ALL costs even if it means sacrificing our reputation,” signing. The hope here is that once T.O. gets on his high horse with Der Fuhrer Bill he will experience a totally new meaning to his nickname.

Thrown Out.

Because if there is anything we have learned from watching Coach Parcells it is that he does not put up with players who do not do things HIS way. He is the Herb Brooks of the NFL. Do you recall Attilla the Hun? His clone stalks the sideline at Texas Stadium. There are dictators and then there are Giant Tunas. Terrell better keep his mouth shut on the practice field, in the locker room and on the sidelines or he will find his way out of Dallas faster than a Bob Hayes fly pattern. This will be the biggest story of the season for the first few months as Parcells finds new and improved ways to use duct tape.

Tee it up. There will be two Super Bowls this year. The XLI will be played in Miami. But, the other one will be a far more intense contest between a coach who will not compromise his character for any one player and a player who has yet to find his character for any coach or team.

Trust me, it will not be long before the irrepressible force meets the immovable tuna. It is inevitable. One year. Book it. -one-

copyright 2006 Patrick Hurley

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