Hostile
The Duke
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Every now and then someone will comment on me wearing something Dallas Cowboys related. Whether it's a cap, a t-shirt, a jacket or a necktie, wearing something Cowboys related seems to illicit comments. Sometimes it is support for the Cowboys. I never fail to invite a fellow Cowboys fan to the site, though only a few have taken me up on the offer.
Sometimes it is hatred for the Cowboys. I love that stuff. I have never had an issue with someone who hates the Cowboys as long as they are consistent in it. It is the bandwagon fans who just jump around supporting winners who I can't stand.
I find it funny when people hate the Cowboys over the whole America's Team nickname. I love to see the shock on their faces when I point out how that is the only nickname for a sports team that the media and other teams try and transfer ownership of to someone else. If the nickname is so damned offensive, how come other teams want it? Oh right, it isn't offensive at all. It signifies the best and that is the issue, jealousy.
Or when someone hates the team because of the cheerleaders. Yeah no joke, I actually had someone recently bring that up to me. He talked about the glitz and the schmaltz and the blatant selling of sex. I pointed out that all teams have sexy cheerleaders and he said Dallas did it first. The only problem with that theory of his is they weren't the first team to have scantly clad women dancing. The problem was they were the first to ever drop jaws because they were so hot. Yeah, hot women are a bad thing. How can a man have an issue with that? I confess, I don't get it.
And every now and then some guy will tell me that they just don't like football. I simply don't trust those guys. There's something inherently wrong with a guy not liking football. How in the hell does that happen? I think it has to be a genetic defect of some kind. I wonder if they like to sing show tunes instead.
NTTAWWT
This is the greatest game ever invented and it gets down deep inside you and it moves you in ways that are good for your soul. Even the defeats and bad seasons that drag us down into misery can be good for us in a strange way. They remind us of better times and we cherish those memories even more.
Football is an emotion as much as anything else. If someone can listen to Al Pacino's speech in "Any Given Sunday" and tell me that doesn't move them then I would suggest they may not have a pulse or something is simply wrong with that person. Whether or not you are a fan of Notre Dame you can't help but feel elation when Rudy realizes his dream and is carried off the field by his teammates. In "Remember the Titans" when Gary tells the nurse "can't you see that's my brother" when Julius comes to see him after his car wreck it stomps on your heart when you realize race is an artificial barrier created by idiots.
Those are just movies. Yet they have the power to grab us and hold us and even change us a little. When football gets inside you your life is never the same.
The first time you walk through a concourse and look down into a football stadium it takes your breath away. You see the swarm of fellow spectators and the green of the grass that almost blinds you and you probably hear a brass band somewhere and you might even smell popcorn. If you close your eyes right now that first memory will come back to your mind. It can't be held back because it is such a powerful iconic moment in our lives.
The game becomes an addiction. It gets inside you and you need it. You crave it. You bask in it like stepping out of the dark into warm sunshine. For some of us the addiction is so strong that we aren't satisfied with just being a spectator, we have to get it all over us.
For those who have never played the game I cannot begin to describe to you how painful it is the day after a game to get out of bed and just walk to the bathroom. I once heard it described as being in multiple car wrecks in one day. That's somewhat accurate I suppose, but it still doesn't quite cover it. I say that because win or lose, no matter how much pain you are in you can't wait to put on the pads again. Whether it is redemption for a loss, or to feel the sweet savor of victory again, you can't wait to hit someone or get hit again. A car crash just doesn't compare to that angst, that longing, that addiction.
I guess the pain felt is analogous, but the rest of the comparison just falls short of really explaining it. I actually remember walking painfully to the bathroom first thing in the morning and with each stab of pain remembering the play that caused that ache. I've heard other former players say the same thing. They can name the play that caused that pain.
How can memories of pain be good? I don't really know except to say that every Spring and every July I still get the longing to put on pads and have someone try and knock me into next week and me do the same to them. Then I remember my age and how bad my knees are and I come to my senses, but the game is still deep inside my core.
I can't fathom a man not wanting to have that kind of connection to something. A connection that you can have even without playing simply because you love the game. How can anyone not be moved by watching Emmitt Smith get up with his shoulder hanging limp by his side and stumble back to the huddle in pain? Then see him on the very next play give it his all as if his life depended on it. How can effort like that not move you to stand up and marvel at the measure of a man's heart and drive?
How can you listen to Michael Irvin bare his soul at the Hall of Fame and talk about how he prays to God that his boys will find some young woman who will make them better husbands than he was, and not be moved to tears? Or hear Troy Aikman's voice crack when he talks about the honor of being a Dallas Cowboy and how he will miss it because he is retiring?
How can anyone not love these kinds of dedication, emotion, and gut wrenching honesty? I don't get it. I don't want to get it. I don't want to understand how they can think that way when in my opinion that's just plain stupid. I don't want to understand stupid. It's just hard for me to accept that some people are just plain dumb even though I see evidence of it every single day. To me, not loving football is dumb.
I just saw a shot of the Kentucky Derby track for today's running of the "The Fastest 2 Minutes in all of Sports," the "Run for the Roses," the "Sport of Kings." The track was muddy. Though I am a horse racing fan and love the Derby one thing came to my mind before I began to think about how this would affect which horse could run good in the mud. How much I love football in the mud. You talk about getting the game all over you, that is when it literally happens. It isn't as artistic as a clean game, but it is every bit as compelling and I can't really explain why. Maybe it's because all boys love the mud and inside mud football brings back the little boy.
Football isn't about the season. If that's all it was the Draft wouldn't compel us so much. We wouldn't be asking when Free Agency starts. We wouldn't care about what qualifies us to receive a Compensatory Draft pick or how much cap room would we have if we got rid of a player who is driving us nuts for whatever reason. Football is an all consuming passion that goes beyond a simple hobby.
How else do you explain how a tribute cartoon drawn on the day Tom Landry and Charles Schulz died and depicting Coach Landry promising to teach Charlie Brown how to kick a football can get inside of so many of us and be an important part of our lives and a lasting memory we cherish?
When a man says to me he doesn't like football I can't help but think of how he is turning his back on all of these kinds of experiences and feelings. That seems a little crazy to me. I just don't completely trust any man who doesn't like football. I think something is wrong inside a man like that.
I love this game.
Sometimes it is hatred for the Cowboys. I love that stuff. I have never had an issue with someone who hates the Cowboys as long as they are consistent in it. It is the bandwagon fans who just jump around supporting winners who I can't stand.
I find it funny when people hate the Cowboys over the whole America's Team nickname. I love to see the shock on their faces when I point out how that is the only nickname for a sports team that the media and other teams try and transfer ownership of to someone else. If the nickname is so damned offensive, how come other teams want it? Oh right, it isn't offensive at all. It signifies the best and that is the issue, jealousy.
Or when someone hates the team because of the cheerleaders. Yeah no joke, I actually had someone recently bring that up to me. He talked about the glitz and the schmaltz and the blatant selling of sex. I pointed out that all teams have sexy cheerleaders and he said Dallas did it first. The only problem with that theory of his is they weren't the first team to have scantly clad women dancing. The problem was they were the first to ever drop jaws because they were so hot. Yeah, hot women are a bad thing. How can a man have an issue with that? I confess, I don't get it.
And every now and then some guy will tell me that they just don't like football. I simply don't trust those guys. There's something inherently wrong with a guy not liking football. How in the hell does that happen? I think it has to be a genetic defect of some kind. I wonder if they like to sing show tunes instead.
NTTAWWT
This is the greatest game ever invented and it gets down deep inside you and it moves you in ways that are good for your soul. Even the defeats and bad seasons that drag us down into misery can be good for us in a strange way. They remind us of better times and we cherish those memories even more.
Football is an emotion as much as anything else. If someone can listen to Al Pacino's speech in "Any Given Sunday" and tell me that doesn't move them then I would suggest they may not have a pulse or something is simply wrong with that person. Whether or not you are a fan of Notre Dame you can't help but feel elation when Rudy realizes his dream and is carried off the field by his teammates. In "Remember the Titans" when Gary tells the nurse "can't you see that's my brother" when Julius comes to see him after his car wreck it stomps on your heart when you realize race is an artificial barrier created by idiots.
Those are just movies. Yet they have the power to grab us and hold us and even change us a little. When football gets inside you your life is never the same.
The first time you walk through a concourse and look down into a football stadium it takes your breath away. You see the swarm of fellow spectators and the green of the grass that almost blinds you and you probably hear a brass band somewhere and you might even smell popcorn. If you close your eyes right now that first memory will come back to your mind. It can't be held back because it is such a powerful iconic moment in our lives.
The game becomes an addiction. It gets inside you and you need it. You crave it. You bask in it like stepping out of the dark into warm sunshine. For some of us the addiction is so strong that we aren't satisfied with just being a spectator, we have to get it all over us.
For those who have never played the game I cannot begin to describe to you how painful it is the day after a game to get out of bed and just walk to the bathroom. I once heard it described as being in multiple car wrecks in one day. That's somewhat accurate I suppose, but it still doesn't quite cover it. I say that because win or lose, no matter how much pain you are in you can't wait to put on the pads again. Whether it is redemption for a loss, or to feel the sweet savor of victory again, you can't wait to hit someone or get hit again. A car crash just doesn't compare to that angst, that longing, that addiction.
I guess the pain felt is analogous, but the rest of the comparison just falls short of really explaining it. I actually remember walking painfully to the bathroom first thing in the morning and with each stab of pain remembering the play that caused that ache. I've heard other former players say the same thing. They can name the play that caused that pain.
How can memories of pain be good? I don't really know except to say that every Spring and every July I still get the longing to put on pads and have someone try and knock me into next week and me do the same to them. Then I remember my age and how bad my knees are and I come to my senses, but the game is still deep inside my core.
I can't fathom a man not wanting to have that kind of connection to something. A connection that you can have even without playing simply because you love the game. How can anyone not be moved by watching Emmitt Smith get up with his shoulder hanging limp by his side and stumble back to the huddle in pain? Then see him on the very next play give it his all as if his life depended on it. How can effort like that not move you to stand up and marvel at the measure of a man's heart and drive?
How can you listen to Michael Irvin bare his soul at the Hall of Fame and talk about how he prays to God that his boys will find some young woman who will make them better husbands than he was, and not be moved to tears? Or hear Troy Aikman's voice crack when he talks about the honor of being a Dallas Cowboy and how he will miss it because he is retiring?
How can anyone not love these kinds of dedication, emotion, and gut wrenching honesty? I don't get it. I don't want to get it. I don't want to understand how they can think that way when in my opinion that's just plain stupid. I don't want to understand stupid. It's just hard for me to accept that some people are just plain dumb even though I see evidence of it every single day. To me, not loving football is dumb.
I just saw a shot of the Kentucky Derby track for today's running of the "The Fastest 2 Minutes in all of Sports," the "Run for the Roses," the "Sport of Kings." The track was muddy. Though I am a horse racing fan and love the Derby one thing came to my mind before I began to think about how this would affect which horse could run good in the mud. How much I love football in the mud. You talk about getting the game all over you, that is when it literally happens. It isn't as artistic as a clean game, but it is every bit as compelling and I can't really explain why. Maybe it's because all boys love the mud and inside mud football brings back the little boy.
Football isn't about the season. If that's all it was the Draft wouldn't compel us so much. We wouldn't be asking when Free Agency starts. We wouldn't care about what qualifies us to receive a Compensatory Draft pick or how much cap room would we have if we got rid of a player who is driving us nuts for whatever reason. Football is an all consuming passion that goes beyond a simple hobby.
How else do you explain how a tribute cartoon drawn on the day Tom Landry and Charles Schulz died and depicting Coach Landry promising to teach Charlie Brown how to kick a football can get inside of so many of us and be an important part of our lives and a lasting memory we cherish?
When a man says to me he doesn't like football I can't help but think of how he is turning his back on all of these kinds of experiences and feelings. That seems a little crazy to me. I just don't completely trust any man who doesn't like football. I think something is wrong inside a man like that.
I love this game.