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The Cowboys went the distance, but the journey sure was rocky. In overtime, they edged the Chiefs, 26-20, in the least publicly convincing win since Bush beat Gore. As then, the outcome has polarized the country, leaving experts and enthusiasts to reveal their glasses: half-empty or fully rose-colored. Consciously or not, Dallas fans, no matter where they reside, now live in a blue state, grateful for the win, yet fearful of the future. Sad.
Of course, it didn't have to be this way. The team could have met expectations, whether reasonable or not, and trounced the Kansas City squad that previously had shown so little life the game was previewed as the Cowboys' triumphant weekend at Bernie's. But Dallas failed to bury their opponents, instead intent on self-destruction; a muffed punt and bungled snap gave KC an early and panic-inducing ten point lead. The 'boys response to this disastrous start could be analyzed as indicative of the remainder of the season.
So, what have we learned?
First, what we haven't: Reflexive evaluations of single-game performances are pointless. Yes, Miles Austin had a record-setting day. He caught ten balls (and more tackles) for 250 yards receiving... and two touchdowns that established the late lead, then won the game. However, note he also dropped other passes that could have negated the need for his fifth quarter heroics. He is still a work in progress, not the second coming of Bob Hayes. Tony Romo posted good numbers yet still has Miles to thank and miles to go before I sleep. Let's skip the weekly flip-flop between anointing and finger-pointing. The quarterback's progress will only be determined at (post?) season's end.
Instead, let's consider the demeanor of two key figures, Wade Phillips and Jay Ratliff. Their differences are as telling as the final score. They model the superlative extremes of leadership, the much ballyhooed intangible too often ascribed to the loudest and/or most charismatic. Neither the coach nor the nose tackle meet this base criteria, but their behaviors mark the distinction between being a character and having character. Jay Ratliff is as solid an individual as he is a player. Considered under-sized for his defensive role, Ratliff has proven last year's Pro Bowl selection was neither a popularity contest nor a fluke. Ratliff's seemingly unshakable self-confidence fuels his refusal to be double-teamed, doubted or defeated. Rather than rally the troops histrionically, he lets his play set the standard. It has all season. He may have only had four tackles yesterday, but his block of Ryan Succop's fourth-quarter field goal attempt was testament to his talent and determination, a model for his teammates. Vaulting the narrow gap between two blockers, he swatted down the potential game-changer as if furious the Chiefs would even dare think of taking the lead again. More tellingly, in his post-game comments, Ratliff deflected credit as thoroughly as he had the kick. "You've got a guy like Igor as big and strong as he is and Spears doing the same thing, getting low, it just opened up a path for me." Say what he will, it is clear watching the replay: Ratliff single-handedly altered the course of the afternoon. Had the Chiefs scored then, the Cowboys may have deflated, as aware as the fans of their meltdowns versus the Giants and the Broncos. Ratliff's effort allowed Austin to shine as the day's lone star of Texas.
On the other hand and on the sideline, Wade Phillips continues to demonstrate why he is unfit for his nominal title as Head Coach. He is simply playing the role and doing so poorly. One could argue this is a consequence of Jerry Jones's puppetry, but even if the owner is pulling some strings, Phillips' cornpone act is more wooden than Pinocchio's, pre-wish. Hi-diddle-dee-dee-yee-ha, folks. Wade ignores sloppy play during games and excuses it after the fact, wishing upon his "stars" as if they were all as sage and capricious as Jiminy Cricket. Granted, not all coaches need spout fire, but sporting a pulse seems a minimal requirement. I am positive that every single Dallas fan gnashed teeth, clenched fists and shouted epithets after the defense accrued four offsides penalties in a single drive... and Marion Barber remained in the backfield when clearly hampered and Tashard Choice was having a better day... and Alan Ball enabled the Chiefs to convert on 3rd and 26. Don't get me wrong. Phillips didn't remain calm. (That could be perceived as leadership of a Landry-esque sort.) Worse, Phillips didn't react at all. If ever the answer on Jeopardy is "Nothing," the question should be: What Would Wade Do? Now there's a bumper sticker for the uninspired.
What Wade can't muster and Jay thrives on, is rage. Ratliff looks back in anger and avenges his teammates' failures on the next play. Wade seems content just to have a job... which is somewhat understandable given how many remind he should be unemployed. However, the coach should not and can not be satisfied. If the owner won't fire him, Wade owes it to everyone else to get fired up. Bench Bobby Carpenter. Move Crayton to the slot. Tell Garrett to dumb it down and dial up a few plays for Martellus. Get involved. Get angry.
In the face of personal adversity, I have questioned my own strength and considered withdrawal. (Run away. Run away!) It is easy for Fatigue to triumph in Crisis. Sleeplessness, self-doubt and sloppy performance can overwhelm Ego. I know. In these times of financial hardship and individual malaise, my fight-or-flight mechanism malfunctions, swinging wildly between the two preservational options. Unchecked, I can become hermetic or hysteric. In retreat, I am certain to lose all. In combat, though, Anger may propel me to unanticipated reward/s.
Victory is impossible if we refuse to compete and highly unlikely if we passively accept the possibility or repercussions of defeat. It is time for all of us to follow Ratliff's lead or, better yet, adopt Rocky Balboa's attitude. In his climactic rematch with Clubber Lang, (see: ROCKY III) the southpaw takes a beating all the while taunting his opponent: "You're not so bad. You're not so bad. You're nothing." The pounding worries Apollo Creed, now in Rocky's corner, until Paulie explains his brother-in-law's strategy: "He's not getting killed, he's getting mad."
You've taken enough body blows and upper cuts. Get mad, Cowboys. Get mad.
(Note that this is part five of an ongoing series. To read Lessons 1-4, please visit: www.thewarrenreport.com)
Of course, it didn't have to be this way. The team could have met expectations, whether reasonable or not, and trounced the Kansas City squad that previously had shown so little life the game was previewed as the Cowboys' triumphant weekend at Bernie's. But Dallas failed to bury their opponents, instead intent on self-destruction; a muffed punt and bungled snap gave KC an early and panic-inducing ten point lead. The 'boys response to this disastrous start could be analyzed as indicative of the remainder of the season.
So, what have we learned?
First, what we haven't: Reflexive evaluations of single-game performances are pointless. Yes, Miles Austin had a record-setting day. He caught ten balls (and more tackles) for 250 yards receiving... and two touchdowns that established the late lead, then won the game. However, note he also dropped other passes that could have negated the need for his fifth quarter heroics. He is still a work in progress, not the second coming of Bob Hayes. Tony Romo posted good numbers yet still has Miles to thank and miles to go before I sleep. Let's skip the weekly flip-flop between anointing and finger-pointing. The quarterback's progress will only be determined at (post?) season's end.
Instead, let's consider the demeanor of two key figures, Wade Phillips and Jay Ratliff. Their differences are as telling as the final score. They model the superlative extremes of leadership, the much ballyhooed intangible too often ascribed to the loudest and/or most charismatic. Neither the coach nor the nose tackle meet this base criteria, but their behaviors mark the distinction between being a character and having character. Jay Ratliff is as solid an individual as he is a player. Considered under-sized for his defensive role, Ratliff has proven last year's Pro Bowl selection was neither a popularity contest nor a fluke. Ratliff's seemingly unshakable self-confidence fuels his refusal to be double-teamed, doubted or defeated. Rather than rally the troops histrionically, he lets his play set the standard. It has all season. He may have only had four tackles yesterday, but his block of Ryan Succop's fourth-quarter field goal attempt was testament to his talent and determination, a model for his teammates. Vaulting the narrow gap between two blockers, he swatted down the potential game-changer as if furious the Chiefs would even dare think of taking the lead again. More tellingly, in his post-game comments, Ratliff deflected credit as thoroughly as he had the kick. "You've got a guy like Igor as big and strong as he is and Spears doing the same thing, getting low, it just opened up a path for me." Say what he will, it is clear watching the replay: Ratliff single-handedly altered the course of the afternoon. Had the Chiefs scored then, the Cowboys may have deflated, as aware as the fans of their meltdowns versus the Giants and the Broncos. Ratliff's effort allowed Austin to shine as the day's lone star of Texas.
On the other hand and on the sideline, Wade Phillips continues to demonstrate why he is unfit for his nominal title as Head Coach. He is simply playing the role and doing so poorly. One could argue this is a consequence of Jerry Jones's puppetry, but even if the owner is pulling some strings, Phillips' cornpone act is more wooden than Pinocchio's, pre-wish. Hi-diddle-dee-dee-yee-ha, folks. Wade ignores sloppy play during games and excuses it after the fact, wishing upon his "stars" as if they were all as sage and capricious as Jiminy Cricket. Granted, not all coaches need spout fire, but sporting a pulse seems a minimal requirement. I am positive that every single Dallas fan gnashed teeth, clenched fists and shouted epithets after the defense accrued four offsides penalties in a single drive... and Marion Barber remained in the backfield when clearly hampered and Tashard Choice was having a better day... and Alan Ball enabled the Chiefs to convert on 3rd and 26. Don't get me wrong. Phillips didn't remain calm. (That could be perceived as leadership of a Landry-esque sort.) Worse, Phillips didn't react at all. If ever the answer on Jeopardy is "Nothing," the question should be: What Would Wade Do? Now there's a bumper sticker for the uninspired.
What Wade can't muster and Jay thrives on, is rage. Ratliff looks back in anger and avenges his teammates' failures on the next play. Wade seems content just to have a job... which is somewhat understandable given how many remind he should be unemployed. However, the coach should not and can not be satisfied. If the owner won't fire him, Wade owes it to everyone else to get fired up. Bench Bobby Carpenter. Move Crayton to the slot. Tell Garrett to dumb it down and dial up a few plays for Martellus. Get involved. Get angry.
In the face of personal adversity, I have questioned my own strength and considered withdrawal. (Run away. Run away!) It is easy for Fatigue to triumph in Crisis. Sleeplessness, self-doubt and sloppy performance can overwhelm Ego. I know. In these times of financial hardship and individual malaise, my fight-or-flight mechanism malfunctions, swinging wildly between the two preservational options. Unchecked, I can become hermetic or hysteric. In retreat, I am certain to lose all. In combat, though, Anger may propel me to unanticipated reward/s.
Victory is impossible if we refuse to compete and highly unlikely if we passively accept the possibility or repercussions of defeat. It is time for all of us to follow Ratliff's lead or, better yet, adopt Rocky Balboa's attitude. In his climactic rematch with Clubber Lang, (see: ROCKY III) the southpaw takes a beating all the while taunting his opponent: "You're not so bad. You're not so bad. You're nothing." The pounding worries Apollo Creed, now in Rocky's corner, until Paulie explains his brother-in-law's strategy: "He's not getting killed, he's getting mad."
You've taken enough body blows and upper cuts. Get mad, Cowboys. Get mad.
(Note that this is part five of an ongoing series. To read Lessons 1-4, please visit: www.thewarrenreport.com)
