Just Appreciate All This

[dargonking999]

By BRAD SHAM
DallasCowboys.com Columnist
Dec. 8, 2004, 5:58 p.m. (CST)

IRVING, Texas - Why are we harder to please than God?

It doesn't seem right. His (Her?) standards ought to be good enough for us.

I'm no rabbinic scholar, but my memory is that in the Bible, God saw what he (she?) had done, and it was good.

And good was good enough to move on to the next thing.

Nowhere does it say "God saw what He had done, and it was good. But it wasn't the best ever, so He went back and tried again." It was good. Good is good. Next.

We don't live by that code.

When the Super Bowl is won in February, bet the ranch that one of the first 10 questions asked of the victorious coach will be whether his team will be able to do it again next year. No time to appreciate this one. Not even "what have you done for me lately?", but "what are you going to do for me next?"

The latest case in point, obviously, happened Monday night in Seattle. By any estimation, great theater. Never mind that we might have taken lowered expectations into it. Never mind that it was a matchup of two mediocre teams. Never mind that the defensive coaches on both teams left Qwest Field looking as though they had experienced a Maalox moment.

Great by-gum entertainment. Can't we take it at that, say "thank you very much" and re-set the alarm for a half hour later? Must it be selected for its place on the all-time rankings of memorable Cowboys games? (Not sure they're putting it on the list of memorable Seahawks games.)

Apparently we can't and it must. It's not just you; I was doing it myself before even boarding the post-game bus to the airport. It ranks right up there. My all time favorite is always the December '79 Washington game because, like this one, each team had it won and lost twice. But that game was between two really good teams, with the division title (and for Washington, a playoff berth) on the line.

There have been others. Some like the Monday nighter with the Giants in Week Two last year. Some like the come from behind Troy Aikman-to-Rocket Ismail season opener in '99 in Washington. Some (thank you, old colleague Frank Luksa) like the '72 divisional championship win in San Francisco. Wherever it goes, this one is on the list, and that, I think, is the point. Rank them if you must, but appreciate something truly memorable when it falls into your lap.

And that brings us to Julius Jones.

A personal memoir: When Tony Dorsett was released by Dallas and went for his cup of coffee in Denver, it hit me that I had seen Dorsett's entire Cowboys career, but I hadn't really SEEN it. Artistry is easy to take for granted when you're around it every day. (Don't you wonder if Tim McGraw ever thinks Faith Hill looks just average today?) One must teach oneself to appreciate it. Seeing Dorsett's career go by in the bat of an eye provided resolve to appreciate special if it ever came around again. That made it a lot easier to appreciate Emmitt Smith and Troy Aikman and Michael Irvin.

So what do we do with this Jones, who looks like the best Julius since the Marx brother we knew as Groucho? The last immortal Cowboys runner was a Smith; shouldn't the next one, for symmetry, be a Jones?

Part of the reptilian brain screams, "It's been two games. TWO GAMES! Can we put off casting the bronze bust until he's played, oh, I don't know, a quarter of a season? And he's doing this in December with September legs. Would he look this good if he'd played the whole year and taken the whole pounding?"

And the answer comes back, "Who cares and shut up." Actually it's been three games, because even in Baltimore where he averaged 2.7 yards per carry, you could see there was something. You could see, frankly, what Bill Parcells and Jerry Jones saw that made them think trading that 22d pick to get an extra first rounder next year might not be the worst idea anyone ever had.

And even the grizzled and combative Parcells is, for him, practically giddy at what Julius has provided. Maybe it's just by contrast to what he's been looking at since he got here, but I don't think so. The young man's upside is way up. He increasingly shows the toughness the Drill Sergeant demands. (Did you notice the block on the blitz pickup in the fourth quarter Monday?)

And there is something there different from Dorsett and Smith. Each of them came to town with a bit of a chip on his shoulder, in a good way, but something that demanded, "Look at me!" even off the field. Julius seems more grounded. Maybe it's that year Tyrone Willingham made him spend not playing at Notre Dame. Maybe it's the eight weeks of game inactivity. This doesn't just seem to be something different, it seems to be a different Julius than the tense bundle of nerves being browbeaten to within an inch of his sanity during the summer by Parcells and offensive coordinator Maurice Carthon.

But let us not get too far ahead of ourselves. Let us not demand that Julius live up to Hall of Fame careers before him on a weekly basis four games into his career.

Let us for once just appreciate what we see. Sure, it leaves us wanting more. But we see what we see.

And it is good.

[Bach]

Originally Posted by dargonking999

By BRAD SHAM
DallasCowboys.com Columnist
Dec. 8, 2004, 5:58 p.m. (CST)

IRVING, Texas - Why are we harder to please than God?

It doesn't seem right. His (Her?) standards ought to be good enough for us.

I'm no rabbinic scholar, but my memory is that in the Bible, God saw what he (she?) had done, and it was good.

John 3:16 "For God so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have everlasting life."

I'm no scholar, but it seems to be rather straightforward to me.

[djmajestik]

I'm no scholar either, but Faith Hill looking average? HUH???

[jobberone]

Originally Posted by dargonking999

By BRAD SHAM
DallasCowboys.com Columnist
Dec. 8, 2004, 5:58 p.m. (CST)

IRVING, Texas - Why are we harder to please than God?

It doesn't seem right. His (Her?) standards ought to be good enough for us.

I'm no rabbinic scholar, but my memory is that in the Bible, God saw what he (she?) had done, and it was good.

And good was good enough to move on to the next thing.

Nowhere does it say "God saw what He had done, and it was good. But it wasn't the best ever, so He went back and tried again." It was good. Good is good. Next.

We don't live by that code.

[View Full Quote]When the Super Bowl is won in February, bet the ranch that one of the first 10 questions asked of the victorious coach will be whether his team will be able to do it again next year. No time to appreciate this one. Not even "what have you done for me lately?", but "what are you going to do for me next?"

The latest case in point, obviously, happened Monday night in Seattle. By any estimation, great theater. Never mind that we might have taken lowered expectations into it. Never mind that it was a matchup of two mediocre teams. Never mind that the defensive coaches on both teams left Qwest Field looking as though they had experienced a Maalox moment.

Great by-gum entertainment. Can't we take it at that, say "thank you very much" and re-set the alarm for a half hour later? Must it be selected for its place on the all-time rankings of memorable Cowboys games? (Not sure they're putting it on the list of memorable Seahawks games.)

Apparently we can't and it must. It's not just you; I was doing it myself before even boarding the post-game bus to the airport. It ranks right up there. My all time favorite is always the December '79 Washington game because, like this one, each team had it won and lost twice. But that game was between two really good teams, with the division title (and for Washington, a playoff berth) on the line.

There have been others. Some like the Monday nighter with the Giants in Week Two last year. Some like the come from behind Troy Aikman-to-Rocket Ismail season opener in '99 in Washington. Some (thank you, old colleague Frank Luksa) like the '72 divisional championship win in San Francisco. Wherever it goes, this one is on the list, and that, I think, is the point. Rank them if you must, but appreciate something truly memorable when it falls into your lap.

And that brings us to Julius Jones.

A personal memoir: When Tony Dorsett was released by Dallas and went for his cup of coffee in Denver, it hit me that I had seen Dorsett's entire Cowboys career, but I hadn't really SEEN it. Artistry is easy to take for granted when you're around it every day. (Don't you wonder if Tim McGraw ever thinks Faith Hill looks just average today?) One must teach oneself to appreciate it. Seeing Dorsett's career go by in the bat of an eye provided resolve to appreciate special if it ever came around again. That made it a lot easier to appreciate Emmitt Smith and Troy Aikman and Michael Irvin.

So what do we do with this Jones, who looks like the best Julius since the Marx brother we knew as Groucho? The last immortal Cowboys runner was a Smith; shouldn't the next one, for symmetry, be a Jones?

Part of the reptilian brain screams, "It's been two games. TWO GAMES! Can we put off casting the bronze bust until he's played, oh, I don't know, a quarter of a season? And he's doing this in December with September legs. Would he look this good if he'd played the whole year and taken the whole pounding?"

And the answer comes back, "Who cares and shut up." Actually it's been three games, because even in Baltimore where he averaged 2.7 yards per carry, you could see there was something. You could see, frankly, what Bill Parcells and Jerry Jones saw that made them think trading that 22d pick to get an extra first rounder next year might not be the worst idea anyone ever had.

And even the grizzled and combative Parcells is, for him, practically giddy at what Julius has provided. Maybe it's just by contrast to what he's been looking at since he got here, but I don't think so. The young man's upside is way up. He increasingly shows the toughness the Drill Sergeant demands. (Did you notice the block on the blitz pickup in the fourth quarter Monday?)

And there is something there different from Dorsett and Smith. Each of them came to town with a bit of a chip on his shoulder, in a good way, but something that demanded, "Look at me!" even off the field. Julius seems more grounded. Maybe it's that year Tyrone Willingham made him spend not playing at Notre Dame. Maybe it's the eight weeks of game inactivity. This doesn't just seem to be something different, it seems to be a different Julius than the tense bundle of nerves being browbeaten to within an inch of his sanity during the summer by Parcells and offensive coordinator Maurice Carthon.

But let us not get too far ahead of ourselves. Let us not demand that Julius live up to Hall of Fame careers before him on a weekly basis four games into his career.

Let us for once just appreciate what we see. Sure, it leaves us wanting more. But we see what we see.

And it is good.

If you're dreaming dream big.

So Peyton throws five INTs and the Cowboys win number six.

[TonyS]

Originally Posted by dargonking999

And there is something there different from Dorsett and Smith. Each of them came to town with a bit of a chip on his shoulder, in a good way, but something that demanded, "Look at me!" even off the field. Julius seems more grounded. Maybe it's that year Tyrone Willingham made him spend not playing at Notre Dame. Maybe it's the eight weeks of game inactivity. This doesn't just seem to be something different, it seems to be a different Julius than the tense bundle of nerves being browbeaten to within an inch of his sanity during the summer by Parcells and offensive coordinator Maurice Carthon.

Did I dream this or didn't Julius actually say something to the extent that he always plays like he's got something to prove (like a chip on his shoulder)? I definitely could've dreamed this after just witnessing the birth and lack of sleep accompanied by my fifth child, but I thought he said that.

I think the great backs always had that drive, that determination to prove everyone wrong. Julius is definitely mellow and well spoken, but you can see in his eyes that desire that he will need if he wants to be great.