Goodbye to a great Cowboys fan

[Whyjerry]

Early Monday morning, July 6th, the man who introduced me to football and to the Dallas Cowboys passed away peacefully in a memory care facility in Fort Worth. He was 91. That man was my father. And he was my hero.

Sixty two years ago this October, my Dad scored two tickets to the Dallas Cowboys vs Cleveland Browns game at the Cotton Bowl. A friend he worked with was an early Cowboys season ticket holder, and he was unable to go to the game that Sunday. So Dad got the tickets and took me - a six year old first grader. And it was a memory I will never forget.

I was so excited that day, holding my Dad’s hand as we walked up the ramp to our seats near the 35 yard line on the west side of the stadium. The grass on the Cotton Bowl floor was the most beautiful green I had ever seen. The silver helmets and pants of the Cowboys’ uniforms were mesmerizing.

We arrived early enough to watch the teams do their pre-game warm-up routines. A ritual I still do to this day when go to any football game. Watching the two teams warm up always gives me a good sense of the teams‘ size, camaraderie and swagger.

I got to see the great HOF RB Jim Brown that day rush for 188 yards in a 20-14 Browns win. Cleveland went on to win the NFL championship that year, the last time they won it all. But I became a lifetime Cowboys fan that day.

In 1967, when I was 9 years old, I had my first serious sports cry when the Cowboys lost their Ice Bowl playoff game in Green Bay. I was so distraught I went outside to cry. My Dad came out to check on me and he patted me on the back gently and helped me understand that sports can mirror life with both joy and heartbreak. Winning is that much sweeter when you’ve experienced the disappointment of loss.

Over the years, my Dad took my younger brother and I to Cowboys games at Texas Stadium too. We saw one of the first games played in Texas Stadium in 1971 when the Cowboys beat the Jets (without Joe Namath) 52-10. My Dad, brother and I watched the Cowboys (on TV) win their first Super Bowl in January, 1972 when we beat the Dolphins 24-3.

I couldn’t count how many Cowboys games I watched with my Dad. We always had fun and somehow I always felt a kinship and love that was a unique bond between a son and a father. It was both safe and enlightening.

My father was a good man. He effortlessly taught his sons that Football was a metaphor of the toughness and challenge that life brings. But when we were together, we also learned that a Fathers love makes life more visible through a clearer lens. He never took sports too seriously. Another lesson he imparted.

The loss of my father is painful, even for an old man like me at 68. But the pain of loss is eased in knowing I had a wonderful father who always took the time to love his family. My love of the Cowboys started back in 1964 in the Cotton Bowl while holding my Dad’s strong hand. As the Cowboys launch another season this fall, I will be thinking of him before each kickoff.

My first sports hero was Bullet Bob Hayes, a great Cowboys player I saw play many times as a kid. His poster adorned my wall. He was certainly my first favorite Cowboys player. But actually as I reflect tonight, my first real and forever hero will always be my Dad.

May he rest in glory. Thanks Dad for everything.
Go Cowboys!

Jeez Bob I only know you through the forum but man I feel for you. That's the funny thing about these forums. We are mostly anonymous here but there is a kinship. When someone like you puts a note out like this we all hurt for you. May God bless you and help heal the pain. May your Dad RIP. I hope he gets up there and is able to convince God to help Cowboys nation. I will pray for you.

 

[Stash]

Early Monday morning, July 6th, the man who introduced me to football and to the Dallas Cowboys passed away peacefully in a memory care facility in Fort Worth. He was 91. That man was my father. And he was my hero.

Sixty two years ago this October, my Dad scored two tickets to the Dallas Cowboys vs Cleveland Browns game at the Cotton Bowl. A friend he worked with was an early Cowboys season ticket holder, and he was unable to go to the game that Sunday. So Dad got the tickets and took me - a six year old first grader. And it was a memory I will never forget.

I was so excited that day, holding my Dad’s hand as we walked up the ramp to our seats near the 35 yard line on the west side of the stadium. The grass on the Cotton Bowl floor was the most beautiful green I had ever seen. The silver helmets and pants of the Cowboys’ uniforms were mesmerizing.

We arrived early enough to watch the teams do their pre-game warm-up routines. A ritual I still do to this day when go to any football game. Watching the two teams warm up always gives me a good sense of the teams‘ size, camaraderie and swagger.

I got to see the great HOF RB Jim Brown that day rush for 188 yards in a 20-14 Browns win. Cleveland went on to win the NFL championship that year, the last time they won it all. But I became a lifetime Cowboys fan that day.

In 1967, when I was 9 years old, I had my first serious sports cry when the Cowboys lost their Ice Bowl playoff game in Green Bay. I was so distraught I went outside to cry. My Dad came out to check on me and he patted me on the back gently and helped me understand that sports can mirror life with both joy and heartbreak. Winning is that much sweeter when you’ve experienced the disappointment of loss.

Over the years, my Dad took my younger brother and I to Cowboys games at Texas Stadium too. We saw one of the first games played in Texas Stadium in 1971 when the Cowboys beat the Jets (without Joe Namath) 52-10. My Dad, brother and I watched the Cowboys (on TV) win their first Super Bowl in January, 1972 when we beat the Dolphins 24-3.

I couldn’t count how many Cowboys games I watched with my Dad. We always had fun and somehow I always felt a kinship and love that was a unique bond between a son and a father. It was both safe and enlightening.

My father was a good man. He effortlessly taught his sons that Football was a metaphor of the toughness and challenge that life brings. But when we were together, we also learned that a Fathers love makes life more visible through a clearer lens. He never took sports too seriously. Another lesson he imparted.

The loss of my father is painful, even for an old man like me at 68. But the pain of loss is eased in knowing I had a wonderful father who always took the time to love his family. My love of the Cowboys started back in 1964 in the Cotton Bowl while holding my Dad’s strong hand. As the Cowboys launch another season this fall, I will be thinking of him before each kickoff.

My first sports hero was Bullet Bob Hayes, a great Cowboys player I saw play many times as a kid. His poster adorned my wall. He was certainly my first favorite Cowboys player. But actually as I reflect tonight, my first real and forever hero will always be my Dad.

May he rest in glory. Thanks Dad for everything.
Go Cowboys!

Very sorry for your loss.

Thank you for sharing your wonderful story and memories.

 

[ShortRound]

Early Monday morning, July 6th, the man who introduced me to football and to the Dallas Cowboys passed away peacefully in a memory care facility in Fort Worth. He was 91. That man was my father. And he was my hero.

Sixty two years ago this October, my Dad scored two tickets to the Dallas Cowboys vs Cleveland Browns game at the Cotton Bowl. A friend he worked with was an early Cowboys season ticket holder, and he was unable to go to the game that Sunday. So Dad got the tickets and took me - a six year old first grader. And it was a memory I will never forget.

I was so excited that day, holding my Dad’s hand as we walked up the ramp to our seats near the 35 yard line on the west side of the stadium. The grass on the Cotton Bowl floor was the most beautiful green I had ever seen. The silver helmets and pants of the Cowboys’ uniforms were mesmerizing.

We arrived early enough to watch the teams do their pre-game warm-up routines. A ritual I still do to this day when go to any football game. Watching the two teams warm up always gives me a good sense of the teams‘ size, camaraderie and swagger.

I got to see the great HOF RB Jim Brown that day rush for 188 yards in a 20-14 Browns win. Cleveland went on to win the NFL championship that year, the last time they won it all. But I became a lifetime Cowboys fan that day.

In 1967, when I was 9 years old, I had my first serious sports cry when the Cowboys lost their Ice Bowl playoff game in Green Bay. I was so distraught I went outside to cry. My Dad came out to check on me and he patted me on the back gently and helped me understand that sports can mirror life with both joy and heartbreak. Winning is that much sweeter when you’ve experienced the disappointment of loss.

Over the years, my Dad took my younger brother and I to Cowboys games at Texas Stadium too. We saw one of the first games played in Texas Stadium in 1971 when the Cowboys beat the Jets (without Joe Namath) 52-10. My Dad, brother and I watched the Cowboys (on TV) win their first Super Bowl in January, 1972 when we beat the Dolphins 24-3.

I couldn’t count how many Cowboys games I watched with my Dad. We always had fun and somehow I always felt a kinship and love that was a unique bond between a son and a father. It was both safe and enlightening.

My father was a good man. He effortlessly taught his sons that Football was a metaphor of the toughness and challenge that life brings. But when we were together, we also learned that a Fathers love makes life more visible through a clearer lens. He never took sports too seriously. Another lesson he imparted.

The loss of my father is painful, even for an old man like me at 68. But the pain of loss is eased in knowing I had a wonderful father who always took the time to love his family. My love of the Cowboys started back in 1964 in the Cotton Bowl while holding my Dad’s strong hand. As the Cowboys launch another season this fall, I will be thinking of him before each kickoff.

My first sports hero was Bullet Bob Hayes, a great Cowboys player I saw play many times as a kid. His poster adorned my wall. He was certainly my first favorite Cowboys player. But actually as I reflect tonight, my first real and forever hero will always be my Dad.

May he rest in glory. Thanks Dad for everything.
Go Cowboys!

Bob I am so sorry for your loss, what a great tribute to your father.
May he rest in peace. God bless.

 

[vlad]

Early Monday morning, July 6th, the man who introduced me to football and to the Dallas Cowboys passed away peacefully in a memory care facility in Fort Worth. He was 91. That man was my father. And he was my hero.

Sixty two years ago this October, my Dad scored two tickets to the Dallas Cowboys vs Cleveland Browns game at the Cotton Bowl. A friend he worked with was an early Cowboys season ticket holder, and he was unable to go to the game that Sunday. So Dad got the tickets and took me - a six year old first grader. And it was a memory I will never forget.

I was so excited that day, holding my Dad’s hand as we walked up the ramp to our seats near the 35 yard line on the west side of the stadium. The grass on the Cotton Bowl floor was the most beautiful green I had ever seen. The silver helmets and pants of the Cowboys’ uniforms were mesmerizing.

We arrived early enough to watch the teams do their pre-game warm-up routines. A ritual I still do to this day when go to any football game. Watching the two teams warm up always gives me a good sense of the teams‘ size, camaraderie and swagger.

I got to see the great HOF RB Jim Brown that day rush for 188 yards in a 20-14 Browns win. Cleveland went on to win the NFL championship that year, the last time they won it all. But I became a lifetime Cowboys fan that day.

In 1967, when I was 9 years old, I had my first serious sports cry when the Cowboys lost their Ice Bowl playoff game in Green Bay. I was so distraught I went outside to cry. My Dad came out to check on me and he patted me on the back gently and helped me understand that sports can mirror life with both joy and heartbreak. Winning is that much sweeter when you’ve experienced the disappointment of loss.

Over the years, my Dad took my younger brother and I to Cowboys games at Texas Stadium too. We saw one of the first games played in Texas Stadium in 1971 when the Cowboys beat the Jets (without Joe Namath) 52-10. My Dad, brother and I watched the Cowboys (on TV) win their first Super Bowl in January, 1972 when we beat the Dolphins 24-3.

I couldn’t count how many Cowboys games I watched with my Dad. We always had fun and somehow I always felt a kinship and love that was a unique bond between a son and a father. It was both safe and enlightening.

My father was a good man. He effortlessly taught his sons that Football was a metaphor of the toughness and challenge that life brings. But when we were together, we also learned that a Fathers love makes life more visible through a clearer lens. He never took sports too seriously. Another lesson he imparted.

The loss of my father is painful, even for an old man like me at 68. But the pain of loss is eased in knowing I had a wonderful father who always took the time to love his family. My love of the Cowboys started back in 1964 in the Cotton Bowl while holding my Dad’s strong hand. As the Cowboys launch another season this fall, I will be thinking of him before each kickoff.

My first sports hero was Bullet Bob Hayes, a great Cowboys player I saw play many times as a kid. His poster adorned my wall. He was certainly my first favorite Cowboys player. But actually as I reflect tonight, my first real and forever hero will always be my Dad.

May he rest in glory. Thanks Dad for everything.
Go Cowboys!

RIP to your father BobHaze...I hope he's enjoying a greater glory.

 

[Diehardblues]

Early Monday morning, July 6th, the man who introduced me to football and to the Dallas Cowboys passed away peacefully in a memory care facility in Fort Worth. He was 91. That man was my father. And he was my hero.

Sixty two years ago this October, my Dad scored two tickets to the Dallas Cowboys vs Cleveland Browns game at the Cotton Bowl. A friend he worked with was an early Cowboys season ticket holder, and he was unable to go to the game that Sunday. So Dad got the tickets and took me - a six year old first grader. And it was a memory I will never forget.

I was so excited that day, holding my Dad’s hand as we walked up the ramp to our seats near the 35 yard line on the west side of the stadium. The grass on the Cotton Bowl floor was the most beautiful green I had ever seen. The silver helmets and pants of the Cowboys’ uniforms were mesmerizing.

We arrived early enough to watch the teams do their pre-game warm-up routines. A ritual I still do to this day when go to any football game. Watching the two teams warm up always gives me a good sense of the teams‘ size, camaraderie and swagger.

I got to see the great HOF RB Jim Brown that day rush for 188 yards in a 20-14 Browns win. Cleveland went on to win the NFL championship that year, the last time they won it all. But I became a lifetime Cowboys fan that day.

In 1967, when I was 9 years old, I had my first serious sports cry when the Cowboys lost their Ice Bowl playoff game in Green Bay. I was so distraught I went outside to cry. My Dad came out to check on me and he patted me on the back gently and helped me understand that sports can mirror life with both joy and heartbreak. Winning is that much sweeter when you’ve experienced the disappointment of loss.

Over the years, my Dad took my younger brother and I to Cowboys games at Texas Stadium too. We saw one of the first games played in Texas Stadium in 1971 when the Cowboys beat the Jets (without Joe Namath) 52-10. My Dad, brother and I watched the Cowboys (on TV) win their first Super Bowl in January, 1972 when we beat the Dolphins 24-3.

I couldn’t count how many Cowboys games I watched with my Dad. We always had fun and somehow I always felt a kinship and love that was a unique bond between a son and a father. It was both safe and enlightening.

My father was a good man. He effortlessly taught his sons that Football was a metaphor of the toughness and challenge that life brings. But when we were together, we also learned that a Fathers love makes life more visible through a clearer lens. He never took sports too seriously. Another lesson he imparted.

The loss of my father is painful, even for an old man like me at 68. But the pain of loss is eased in knowing I had a wonderful father who always took the time to love his family. My love of the Cowboys started back in 1964 in the Cotton Bowl while holding my Dad’s strong hand. As the Cowboys launch another season this fall, I will be thinking of him before each kickoff.

My first sports hero was Bullet Bob Hayes, a great Cowboys player I saw play many times as a kid. His poster adorned my wall. He was certainly my first favorite Cowboys player. But actually as I reflect tonight, my first real and forever hero will always be my Dad.

May he rest in glory. Thanks Dad for everything.
Go Cowboys!

My heart goes out to you and your family in this time of mourning. His spirits lives on within you and his legacy left behind.

You can rejoice in his longevity with a long prosperous and meaningful life touching you, your family and all those around him he influenced and impacted.

Thank you for sharing your heartfelt story and tribute to your father. And may his memory be a blessing.

 

[ratkinson]

My condolences to you and your family Bob.
Your father's peaceful transition surrounded by family and loved ones is a true blessing.

 

[Kingofholland]

Early Monday morning, July 6th, the man who introduced me to football and to the Dallas Cowboys passed away peacefully in a memory care facility in Fort Worth. He was 91. That man was my father. And he was my hero.

Sixty two years ago this October, my Dad scored two tickets to the Dallas Cowboys vs Cleveland Browns game at the Cotton Bowl. A friend he worked with was an early Cowboys season ticket holder, and he was unable to go to the game that Sunday. So Dad got the tickets and took me - a six year old first grader. And it was a memory I will never forget.

I was so excited that day, holding my Dad’s hand as we walked up the ramp to our seats near the 35 yard line on the west side of the stadium. The grass on the Cotton Bowl floor was the most beautiful green I had ever seen. The silver helmets and pants of the Cowboys’ uniforms were mesmerizing.

We arrived early enough to watch the teams do their pre-game warm-up routines. A ritual I still do to this day when go to any football game. Watching the two teams warm up always gives me a good sense of the teams‘ size, camaraderie and swagger.

I got to see the great HOF RB Jim Brown that day rush for 188 yards in a 20-14 Browns win. Cleveland went on to win the NFL championship that year, the last time they won it all. But I became a lifetime Cowboys fan that day.

In 1967, when I was 9 years old, I had my first serious sports cry when the Cowboys lost their Ice Bowl playoff game in Green Bay. I was so distraught I went outside to cry. My Dad came out to check on me and he patted me on the back gently and helped me understand that sports can mirror life with both joy and heartbreak. Winning is that much sweeter when you’ve experienced the disappointment of loss.

Over the years, my Dad took my younger brother and I to Cowboys games at Texas Stadium too. We saw one of the first games played in Texas Stadium in 1971 when the Cowboys beat the Jets (without Joe Namath) 52-10. My Dad, brother and I watched the Cowboys (on TV) win their first Super Bowl in January, 1972 when we beat the Dolphins 24-3.

I couldn’t count how many Cowboys games I watched with my Dad. We always had fun and somehow I always felt a kinship and love that was a unique bond between a son and a father. It was both safe and enlightening.

My father was a good man. He effortlessly taught his sons that Football was a metaphor of the toughness and challenge that life brings. But when we were together, we also learned that a Fathers love makes life more visible through a clearer lens. He never took sports too seriously. Another lesson he imparted.

The loss of my father is painful, even for an old man like me at 68. But the pain of loss is eased in knowing I had a wonderful father who always took the time to love his family. My love of the Cowboys started back in 1964 in the Cotton Bowl while holding my Dad’s strong hand. As the Cowboys launch another season this fall, I will be thinking of him before each kickoff.

My first sports hero was Bullet Bob Hayes, a great Cowboys player I saw play many times as a kid. His poster adorned my wall. He was certainly my first favorite Cowboys player. But actually as I reflect tonight, my first real and forever hero will always be my Dad.

May he rest in glory. Thanks Dad for everything.
Go Cowboys!

Sorry for your loss, it's so hard losing a parent. Sounds like many amazing memories with him in sharing a bond over the Cowboys and his legacy certainly lives on.

 

[America's Cowboy]

Early Monday morning, July 6th, the man who introduced me to football and to the Dallas Cowboys passed away peacefully in a memory care facility in Fort Worth. He was 91. That man was my father. And he was my hero.

Sixty two years ago this October, my Dad scored two tickets to the Dallas Cowboys vs Cleveland Browns game at the Cotton Bowl. A friend he worked with was an early Cowboys season ticket holder, and he was unable to go to the game that Sunday. So Dad got the tickets and took me - a six year old first grader. And it was a memory I will never forget.

I was so excited that day, holding my Dad’s hand as we walked up the ramp to our seats near the 35 yard line on the west side of the stadium. The grass on the Cotton Bowl floor was the most beautiful green I had ever seen. The silver helmets and pants of the Cowboys’ uniforms were mesmerizing.

We arrived early enough to watch the teams do their pre-game warm-up routines. A ritual I still do to this day when go to any football game. Watching the two teams warm up always gives me a good sense of the teams‘ size, camaraderie and swagger.

I got to see the great HOF RB Jim Brown that day rush for 188 yards in a 20-14 Browns win. Cleveland went on to win the NFL championship that year, the last time they won it all. But I became a lifetime Cowboys fan that day.

In 1967, when I was 9 years old, I had my first serious sports cry when the Cowboys lost their Ice Bowl playoff game in Green Bay. I was so distraught I went outside to cry. My Dad came out to check on me and he patted me on the back gently and helped me understand that sports can mirror life with both joy and heartbreak. Winning is that much sweeter when you’ve experienced the disappointment of loss.

Over the years, my Dad took my younger brother and I to Cowboys games at Texas Stadium too. We saw one of the first games played in Texas Stadium in 1971 when the Cowboys beat the Jets (without Joe Namath) 52-10. My Dad, brother and I watched the Cowboys (on TV) win their first Super Bowl in January, 1972 when we beat the Dolphins 24-3.

I couldn’t count how many Cowboys games I watched with my Dad. We always had fun and somehow I always felt a kinship and love that was a unique bond between a son and a father. It was both safe and enlightening.

My father was a good man. He effortlessly taught his sons that Football was a metaphor of the toughness and challenge that life brings. But when we were together, we also learned that a Fathers love makes life more visible through a clearer lens. He never took sports too seriously. Another lesson he imparted.

The loss of my father is painful, even for an old man like me at 68. But the pain of loss is eased in knowing I had a wonderful father who always took the time to love his family. My love of the Cowboys started back in 1964 in the Cotton Bowl while holding my Dad’s strong hand. As the Cowboys launch another season this fall, I will be thinking of him before each kickoff.

My first sports hero was Bullet Bob Hayes, a great Cowboys player I saw play many times as a kid. His poster adorned my wall. He was certainly my first favorite Cowboys player. But actually as I reflect tonight, my first real and forever hero will always be my Dad.

May he rest in glory. Thanks Dad for everything.
Go Cowboys!

My deepest and most sincere condolences, brother BH, to you, your brother and family for your loss. May your father Rest in Heaven.

 

[cityochamps]

I am so very sorry for your loss Bob, may the memories of your father provide you solace and strength in the days ahead.

 

[morat1959]

Prayers sent.

 

[Blast From The Past]

Sorry for your loss, Bob. Your Father seems to have left a Cowboys fan here on Earth through you that will live on for ages, sorry for your pain and hope through your grief you can find celebration of his long life and fine legacy. God Speed!

 

[nate dizzle]

So sorry for your and your family's loss Bob. He sounds like he was a great man and will be missed by everyone who was close to him. May you find comfort in the fact that you were able to have him by your side for as long as you did.

 

[sbuscha]

Early Monday morning, July 6th, the man who introduced me to football and to the Dallas Cowboys passed away peacefully in a memory care facility in Fort Worth. He was 91. That man was my father. And he was my hero.

Sixty two years ago this October, my Dad scored two tickets to the Dallas Cowboys vs Cleveland Browns game at the Cotton Bowl. A friend he worked with was an early Cowboys season ticket holder, and he was unable to go to the game that Sunday. So Dad got the tickets and took me - a six year old first grader. And it was a memory I will never forget.

I was so excited that day, holding my Dad’s hand as we walked up the ramp to our seats near the 35 yard line on the west side of the stadium. The grass on the Cotton Bowl floor was the most beautiful green I had ever seen. The silver helmets and pants of the Cowboys’ uniforms were mesmerizing.

We arrived early enough to watch the teams do their pre-game warm-up routines. A ritual I still do to this day when go to any football game. Watching the two teams warm up always gives me a good sense of the teams‘ size, camaraderie and swagger.

I got to see the great HOF RB Jim Brown that day rush for 188 yards in a 20-14 Browns win. Cleveland went on to win the NFL championship that year, the last time they won it all. But I became a lifetime Cowboys fan that day.

In 1967, when I was 9 years old, I had my first serious sports cry when the Cowboys lost their Ice Bowl playoff game in Green Bay. I was so distraught I went outside to cry. My Dad came out to check on me and he patted me on the back gently and helped me understand that sports can mirror life with both joy and heartbreak. Winning is that much sweeter when you’ve experienced the disappointment of loss.

Over the years, my Dad took my younger brother and I to Cowboys games at Texas Stadium too. We saw one of the first games played in Texas Stadium in 1971 when the Cowboys beat the Jets (without Joe Namath) 52-10. My Dad, brother and I watched the Cowboys (on TV) win their first Super Bowl in January, 1972 when we beat the Dolphins 24-3.

I couldn’t count how many Cowboys games I watched with my Dad. We always had fun and somehow I always felt a kinship and love that was a unique bond between a son and a father. It was both safe and enlightening.

My father was a good man. He effortlessly taught his sons that Football was a metaphor of the toughness and challenge that life brings. But when we were together, we also learned that a Fathers love makes life more visible through a clearer lens. He never took sports too seriously. Another lesson he imparted.

The loss of my father is painful, even for an old man like me at 68. But the pain of loss is eased in knowing I had a wonderful father who always took the time to love his family. My love of the Cowboys started back in 1964 in the Cotton Bowl while holding my Dad’s strong hand. As the Cowboys launch another season this fall, I will be thinking of him before each kickoff.

My first sports hero was Bullet Bob Hayes, a great Cowboys player I saw play many times as a kid. His poster adorned my wall. He was certainly my first favorite Cowboys player. But actually as I reflect tonight, my first real and forever hero will always be my Dad.

May he rest in glory. Thanks Dad for everything.
Go Cowboys!

My condolences on the loss of your dad. He was clearly a great Cowboys fan, but more importantly, he must have been a great man because he passed those values and qualities on to you. Wishing you and your family peace and strength during this difficult time.

Rest in peace, sir.

 

[Captain Late]

My Sincere Prayers and Sympathy to You on Your Dad Passing Bob.He left You quite a Legacy that will Forever be with You.Those Memories are Eternal.

God Bless You and May He Rest In Peace.

 

[Runwildboys]

Early Monday morning, July 6th, the man who introduced me to football and to the Dallas Cowboys passed away peacefully in a memory care facility in Fort Worth. He was 91. That man was my father. And he was my hero.

Sixty two years ago this October, my Dad scored two tickets to the Dallas Cowboys vs Cleveland Browns game at the Cotton Bowl. A friend he worked with was an early Cowboys season ticket holder, and he was unable to go to the game that Sunday. So Dad got the tickets and took me - a six year old first grader. And it was a memory I will never forget.

I was so excited that day, holding my Dad’s hand as we walked up the ramp to our seats near the 35 yard line on the west side of the stadium. The grass on the Cotton Bowl floor was the most beautiful green I had ever seen. The silver helmets and pants of the Cowboys’ uniforms were mesmerizing.

We arrived early enough to watch the teams do their pre-game warm-up routines. A ritual I still do to this day when go to any football game. Watching the two teams warm up always gives me a good sense of the teams‘ size, camaraderie and swagger.

I got to see the great HOF RB Jim Brown that day rush for 188 yards in a 20-14 Browns win. Cleveland went on to win the NFL championship that year, the last time they won it all. But I became a lifetime Cowboys fan that day.

In 1967, when I was 9 years old, I had my first serious sports cry when the Cowboys lost their Ice Bowl playoff game in Green Bay. I was so distraught I went outside to cry. My Dad came out to check on me and he patted me on the back gently and helped me understand that sports can mirror life with both joy and heartbreak. Winning is that much sweeter when you’ve experienced the disappointment of loss.

Over the years, my Dad took my younger brother and I to Cowboys games at Texas Stadium too. We saw one of the first games played in Texas Stadium in 1971 when the Cowboys beat the Jets (without Joe Namath) 52-10. My Dad, brother and I watched the Cowboys (on TV) win their first Super Bowl in January, 1972 when we beat the Dolphins 24-3.

I couldn’t count how many Cowboys games I watched with my Dad. We always had fun and somehow I always felt a kinship and love that was a unique bond between a son and a father. It was both safe and enlightening.

My father was a good man. He effortlessly taught his sons that Football was a metaphor of the toughness and challenge that life brings. But when we were together, we also learned that a Fathers love makes life more visible through a clearer lens. He never took sports too seriously. Another lesson he imparted.

The loss of my father is painful, even for an old man like me at 68. But the pain of loss is eased in knowing I had a wonderful father who always took the time to love his family. My love of the Cowboys started back in 1964 in the Cotton Bowl while holding my Dad’s strong hand. As the Cowboys launch another season this fall, I will be thinking of him before each kickoff.

My first sports hero was Bullet Bob Hayes, a great Cowboys player I saw play many times as a kid. His poster adorned my wall. He was certainly my first favorite Cowboys player. But actually as I reflect tonight, my first real and forever hero will always be my Dad.

May he rest in glory. Thanks Dad for everything.
Go Cowboys!

I'm sorry for your loss, my friend. But I'm so glad you had him and his love for so many years!

 

[tomokawan]

Condolences to you and the family.

 

[rambo2]

Early Monday morning, July 6th, the man who introduced me to football and to the Dallas Cowboys passed away peacefully in a memory care facility in Fort Worth. He was 91. That man was my father. And he was my hero.

Sixty two years ago this October, my Dad scored two tickets to the Dallas Cowboys vs Cleveland Browns game at the Cotton Bowl. A friend he worked with was an early Cowboys season ticket holder, and he was unable to go to the game that Sunday. So Dad got the tickets and took me - a six year old first grader. And it was a memory I will never forget.

I was so excited that day, holding my Dad’s hand as we walked up the ramp to our seats near the 35 yard line on the west side of the stadium. The grass on the Cotton Bowl floor was the most beautiful green I had ever seen. The silver helmets and pants of the Cowboys’ uniforms were mesmerizing.

We arrived early enough to watch the teams do their pre-game warm-up routines. A ritual I still do to this day when go to any football game. Watching the two teams warm up always gives me a good sense of the teams‘ size, camaraderie and swagger.

I got to see the great HOF RB Jim Brown that day rush for 188 yards in a 20-14 Browns win. Cleveland went on to win the NFL championship that year, the last time they won it all. But I became a lifetime Cowboys fan that day.

In 1967, when I was 9 years old, I had my first serious sports cry when the Cowboys lost their Ice Bowl playoff game in Green Bay. I was so distraught I went outside to cry. My Dad came out to check on me and he patted me on the back gently and helped me understand that sports can mirror life with both joy and heartbreak. Winning is that much sweeter when you’ve experienced the disappointment of loss.

Over the years, my Dad took my younger brother and I to Cowboys games at Texas Stadium too. We saw one of the first games played in Texas Stadium in 1971 when the Cowboys beat the Jets (without Joe Namath) 52-10. My Dad, brother and I watched the Cowboys (on TV) win their first Super Bowl in January, 1972 when we beat the Dolphins 24-3.

I couldn’t count how many Cowboys games I watched with my Dad. We always had fun and somehow I always felt a kinship and love that was a unique bond between a son and a father. It was both safe and enlightening.

My father was a good man. He effortlessly taught his sons that Football was a metaphor of the toughness and challenge that life brings. But when we were together, we also learned that a Fathers love makes life more visible through a clearer lens. He never took sports too seriously. Another lesson he imparted.

The loss of my father is painful, even for an old man like me at 68. But the pain of loss is eased in knowing I had a wonderful father who always took the time to love his family. My love of the Cowboys started back in 1964 in the Cotton Bowl while holding my Dad’s strong hand. As the Cowboys launch another season this fall, I will be thinking of him before each kickoff.

My first sports hero was Bullet Bob Hayes, a great Cowboys player I saw play many times as a kid. His poster adorned my wall. He was certainly my first favorite Cowboys player. But actually as I reflect tonight, my first real and forever hero will always be my Dad.

May he rest in glory. Thanks Dad for everything.
Go Cowboys!

So sorry for your loss. Your dad was a great man.

 

[Bobhaze]

Thank you so much to everyone for the kind words. This place is more than a message board thanks to people like you.

 

[shabazz]

Early Monday morning, July 6th, the man who introduced me to football and to the Dallas Cowboys passed away peacefully in a memory care facility in Fort Worth. He was 91. That man was my father. And he was my hero.

Sixty two years ago this October, my Dad scored two tickets to the Dallas Cowboys vs Cleveland Browns game at the Cotton Bowl. A friend he worked with was an early Cowboys season ticket holder, and he was unable to go to the game that Sunday. So Dad got the tickets and took me - a six year old first grader. And it was a memory I will never forget.

I was so excited that day, holding my Dad’s hand as we walked up the ramp to our seats near the 35 yard line on the west side of the stadium. The grass on the Cotton Bowl floor was the most beautiful green I had ever seen. The silver helmets and pants of the Cowboys’ uniforms were mesmerizing.

We arrived early enough to watch the teams do their pre-game warm-up routines. A ritual I still do to this day when go to any football game. Watching the two teams warm up always gives me a good sense of the teams‘ size, camaraderie and swagger.

I got to see the great HOF RB Jim Brown that day rush for 188 yards in a 20-14 Browns win. Cleveland went on to win the NFL championship that year, the last time they won it all. But I became a lifetime Cowboys fan that day.

In 1967, when I was 9 years old, I had my first serious sports cry when the Cowboys lost their Ice Bowl playoff game in Green Bay. I was so distraught I went outside to cry. My Dad came out to check on me and he patted me on the back gently and helped me understand that sports can mirror life with both joy and heartbreak. Winning is that much sweeter when you’ve experienced the disappointment of loss.

Over the years, my Dad took my younger brother and I to Cowboys games at Texas Stadium too. We saw one of the first games played in Texas Stadium in 1971 when the Cowboys beat the Jets (without Joe Namath) 52-10. My Dad, brother and I watched the Cowboys (on TV) win their first Super Bowl in January, 1972 when we beat the Dolphins 24-3.

I couldn’t count how many Cowboys games I watched with my Dad. We always had fun and somehow I always felt a kinship and love that was a unique bond between a son and a father. It was both safe and enlightening.

My father was a good man. He effortlessly taught his sons that Football was a metaphor of the toughness and challenge that life brings. But when we were together, we also learned that a Fathers love makes life more visible through a clearer lens. He never took sports too seriously. Another lesson he imparted.

The loss of my father is painful, even for an old man like me at 68. But the pain of loss is eased in knowing I had a wonderful father who always took the time to love his family. My love of the Cowboys started back in 1964 in the Cotton Bowl while holding my Dad’s strong hand. As the Cowboys launch another season this fall, I will be thinking of him before each kickoff.

My first sports hero was Bullet Bob Hayes, a great Cowboys player I saw play many times as a kid. His poster adorned my wall. He was certainly my first favorite Cowboys player. But actually as I reflect tonight, my first real and forever hero will always be my Dad.

May he rest in glory. Thanks Dad for everything.
Go Cowboys!

Mega ditto on all the responses.

I know that one day I will lose my mentor as well but every day that we communicate is a blessing.

My heart goes out to young men that either lost their fathers before their formative years or never knew their fathers.......it a hard road for those guys.

 

[RustyBourneHorse]

Early Monday morning, July 6th, the man who introduced me to football and to the Dallas Cowboys passed away peacefully in a memory care facility in Fort Worth. He was 91. That man was my father. And he was my hero.

Sixty two years ago this October, my Dad scored two tickets to the Dallas Cowboys vs Cleveland Browns game at the Cotton Bowl. A friend he worked with was an early Cowboys season ticket holder, and he was unable to go to the game that Sunday. So Dad got the tickets and took me - a six year old first grader. And it was a memory I will never forget.

I was so excited that day, holding my Dad’s hand as we walked up the ramp to our seats near the 35 yard line on the west side of the stadium. The grass on the Cotton Bowl floor was the most beautiful green I had ever seen. The silver helmets and pants of the Cowboys’ uniforms were mesmerizing.

We arrived early enough to watch the teams do their pre-game warm-up routines. A ritual I still do to this day when go to any football game. Watching the two teams warm up always gives me a good sense of the teams‘ size, camaraderie and swagger.

I got to see the great HOF RB Jim Brown that day rush for 188 yards in a 20-14 Browns win. Cleveland went on to win the NFL championship that year, the last time they won it all. But I became a lifetime Cowboys fan that day.

In 1967, when I was 9 years old, I had my first serious sports cry when the Cowboys lost their Ice Bowl playoff game in Green Bay. I was so distraught I went outside to cry. My Dad came out to check on me and he patted me on the back gently and helped me understand that sports can mirror life with both joy and heartbreak. Winning is that much sweeter when you’ve experienced the disappointment of loss.

Over the years, my Dad took my younger brother and I to Cowboys games at Texas Stadium too. We saw one of the first games played in Texas Stadium in 1971 when the Cowboys beat the Jets (without Joe Namath) 52-10. My Dad, brother and I watched the Cowboys (on TV) win their first Super Bowl in January, 1972 when we beat the Dolphins 24-3.

I couldn’t count how many Cowboys games I watched with my Dad. We always had fun and somehow I always felt a kinship and love that was a unique bond between a son and a father. It was both safe and enlightening.

My father was a good man. He effortlessly taught his sons that Football was a metaphor of the toughness and challenge that life brings. But when we were together, we also learned that a Fathers love makes life more visible through a clearer lens. He never took sports too seriously. Another lesson he imparted.

The loss of my father is painful, even for an old man like me at 68. But the pain of loss is eased in knowing I had a wonderful father who always took the time to love his family. My love of the Cowboys started back in 1964 in the Cotton Bowl while holding my Dad’s strong hand. As the Cowboys launch another season this fall, I will be thinking of him before each kickoff.

My first sports hero was Bullet Bob Hayes, a great Cowboys player I saw play many times as a kid. His poster adorned my wall. He was certainly my first favorite Cowboys player. But actually as I reflect tonight, my first real and forever hero will always be my Dad.

May he rest in glory. Thanks Dad for everything.
Go Cowboys!

I'm so sorry man. Maybe Rest in Peace brother.