It's been almost a week and i still cant get over it

[Boysboy]

I'm still sick I'm sorry. 13-3 , HFA and nothing to show for it. These type of seasons aren't to be taken for granted. I don't want to hear about positives spewing from Wade's lips. This was a devestating loss to for the franchise. No other way to put it. I refuse to wacth the NFC title game. I will wacth the AFC game because I want to see the Pats go all the way, because I'm sick of the 72 dolphins. The shock still hasn't worn off for me.

Nobody is-however, what are we going to do about it? Sit in our rooms all day and cry and do nothing?

What happened, happened...we have to move on, and I hope the team is strong enough to do so too.

 

[Bach]

I told you, a man's actions have consequences... if you get to annoying folks with your posts, then you'll catch grief...

pot / kettle

 

[cowboyrock]

Nobody is-however, what are we going to do about it? Sit in our rooms all day and cry and do nothing?

What happened, happened...we have to move on, and I hope the team is strong enough to do so too.

We all know there is nothing we can do to change what happen. but that's not the point of this thread. the point is, this is one of the worse losses to take in cowboys history. we were the better team that loss to a team that is not that good. we beat ourselves, and the NFL refs beat us. im bitter and im tired of cowboys fans getting screwed. the re-spot on whitten's catch in seattle last year, that lead to what happen with Romo. now the calls this year.we still should have won that game. we beat ourselves.im still bitter and in shock about the way it ended.the pain goes on.

 

[5Stars]

We all know there is nothing we can do to change what happen. but that's not the point of this thread. the point is, this is one of the worse losses to take in cowboys history. we were the better team that loss to a team that is not that good. we beat ourselves, and the NFL refs beat us. im bitter and im tired of cowboys fans getting screwed. the re-spot on whitten's catch in seattle last year, that lead to what happen with Romo. now the calls this year.we still should have won that game. we beat ourselves.im still bitter and in shock about the way it ended.the pain goes on.

50 years old, huh? Still young, I guess...

They say that as life goes on you age then start to regress to a child as you get older...and I see you are on the downside!!

GET OVER IT....

 

[DallasEast]

The NFL and the media wanted a Bret Farve/Tom brady superbowl.the best chance of getting that was getting the cowboys out of the way.

Bull. The NFL always wants the team it's promoting the most in the title game. Do you think that it wanted Dallas on primetime as often as we were on this season just for kicks? Get real.

Farve was never going to win in Dallas and they knew it.

Do you know who shot Kennedy too? Good grief.

Green bay and NE will win today. and the NFL will have what they wanted for a Super bowl.

The NFL wants the matchup which will bring in the most viewers. That's New England vs. New York. You can screw with those numbers. It's a large northeastern base of fans (New England) plus a large metropolitan fan base (New York). Green Bay/New England, Green Bay/San Diego or New York/San Diego Super Bowl matchups will not draw the viewers equal to a New York/New England contest. The league isn't doped itself into some emotional melodrama some fans have twisted themselves into knots over. It's about which matchup will promote its showcase game the most. That's it. I can't make it any simplier.

if Farve wins it. he retires to a storybook ending. if Brady and NE win it.they go unbeaten, and go down as one of the greatest team's ever.either way, the NFL wins.

See? Melodrama. That ain't the reality of what the NFL is hoping for to impact its bottom line, fella.

i love the cowboys. always have and always will. but there is as many people who tune in in hopes of seeing the cowboys lose. the NFL knows this.

Yeah, the NFL DOES know this, but the real question is, "DO YOU???"

why do you think they sent those one-sided refs to Dallas last sunday?

Bad officiating doesn't have to be based a conspiracy theory--even if I might even agree. It could be a simplier case of the refs being blind or biased against the Cowboys or they could've been just plain stupid. Goodell didn't have to orchestrate anything if those were the cases, would he? sheesh.

sorry, but i disagree 100% with your post.

Big surprise. Well, not really.

 

[CNY Cowboy]

Enough with blaming the refs on our loss!!!!!!!!

Believe it or not fellas, We Screwed The Pooch on this one.

You can't honestly tell me The refs were the reason we lost.
Sure there were some bad calls, but that happens in all games. But they were not the reason we lost. If you believe that than your delusional.



We just didn't play very well.

If it makes you feel better to think that the game was completely taken away from us and you can tell me we played well enough to win than , then OK, think that way ,but in reality we just blew it.

 

[WiPatfan]

The Cowboy loss was tough, for sure, and I know you're a big fan, but it is times like these that demand a little perspective. I found this (below) on the web. It's a bit long...but I think it makes an excellent point.

Get back to life. Next season, you can get fired up about the Cowboys. They will be ready to win it all.



Once upon a time, I liked to get into the stadium early. While others cooked their brats, nibbled on their deviled eggs and sipped their martini’s in the parking lot, I skipped the tailgate to watch the kickers, punters and quarterbacks warm-up. I went for the game, not the gloss, and to watch the warriors of the gridiron limber for battle only added to the excitement.

Or did, I should say. You see, one day not too long ago, I found a paradox waiting for me inside Lambeau Field.

My wife’s family has great seats to see the Packers: Forty yard line behind the home team, off an aisle, with only the nicest, most loyal fans crowded around. After I weaved through the green and gold throngs to my seat, I flipped through the program to update my memory to the opposing team’s line-up. I had spent a good two hours listening to the pre-game radio shows on the drive to Green Bay and another thirty minutes bent over the morning paper consuming the local analysis with my pancakes. Still, I wanted more.

At the corner of my eye, I noticed a long column of geriatric humanity creeping from the home team’s tunnel on to the field. The line started with the old and ended with the ancient. Some hobbled with canes, others glided in wheelchairs. Broken and bent, bowed and wrinkled, they seemed to be marching to a beat all their own. When the parade ended at the thirty-yard line, over fifty of them stood at differing levels of teetering attention toward the far side-line.

A dozen young army soldiers, tight and buttoned in their dress green, escorted a few of the more unstable in the group. The leader of the procession, a surprisingly frail-looking officer wearing the foppish black army beret, flitted around them like an overly expressive dance teacher trying to get her ballerinas in order.

I immediately assumed that these old men had once served in the military and had all received some prestigious honor. The overhead announcer clarified my speculation: Each of these veterans had earned a Congressional Medal of Honor. Apparently, the CMH Reunion was in Green Bay that weekend. Who knew?

Let me first say that I am an ardent student of military history. I devour even the most obscure military texts just so I can reexamine battles I have reexamined a hundred times before. In my modest library, I even have a cheap paperback, dog-eared and tattered, that listed every single CMH recipient. I won’t bore you with what it means to earn the CMH except to say that anyone who wears that fancy bauble around their neck at one point in his or her life decided and acted on the premise that the lives of others – usually a comrade or comrades — was more important than his or her own.

So you can imagine how I felt when I saw all those brave men before me. It was like having Paul McCartney, Steve Wonder, Elton John and every single major music star of the last fifty years gather in one place. I probably had read about half the men down there. And there they were, in the flesh.

Time did not permit each name to be announced, so the veterans were called out on to the field by the war in which they fought. First the Gulf War group, then Vietnam and Korea, and finally the World War II vets. Constant applause rained down from all around the stadium, which was not a surprise. Wisconsin folk know the value of their soldiers, and would have applauded if this was a line of army clerks who had earned Purple Hearts getting paper cuts in the mail room.

I learned later that the Army has sponsored the CMH event as a recruiting tool – at half-time a bunch of raw recruits marched clumsily out on to midfield for a swearing-in ceremony – but even so, it was proud moment that brought me almost to warm, honest tears. If I was young and eager, I might have enlisted right then and there.

As I sat down on the bleachers to redeploy my thoughts back to the game, I found that I had lost focus. There I was, bundled in my fifty-dollar Packer jersey, straining to see the last of the veterans stagger back into the tunnel. The game suddenly had no meaning. What was a football game compare to men who might have risked everything in some airless desert or some unpronounceable forest in Europe with tree-bursts exploding overhead? It was like I had gone to a hot dog stand for some food and, suddenly, Wolfgang Puck yanked me into some side alley to show me his latest gourmet sensation.

I went to Lambeau Field to see a battlefield of sorts, but instead all I saw was an expensive stretch of artificial grass, not worthy of those old veterans who had marched along its edge. My sense of self-conflict only grew when the teams were announced: The starting Quarterback of the Green Bay Packers received a deafening cheer that made the applause for the veterans seem tame in comparison.

My wife found me in the stands just as roar of the crowd softened to noisy clatter. In her hands she carried a diet coke and a brat slathered in mustard and onions. “Here,” she said. “Are you ready for battle?”

 

[cowboyrock]

Bull. The NFL always wants the team it's promoting the most in the title game. Do you think that it wanted Dallas on primetime as often as we were on this season just for kicks? Get real.
Do you know who shot Kennedy too? Good grief. The NFL wants the matchup which will bring in the most viewers. That's New England vs. New York. You can screw with those numbers. It's a large northeastern base of fans (New England) plus a large metropolitan fan base (New York). Green Bay/New England, Green Bay/San Diego or New York/San Diego Super Bowl matchups will not draw the viewers equal to a New York/New England contest. The league isn't doped itself into some emotional melodrama some fans have twisted themselves into knots over. It's about which matchup will promote its showcase game the most. That's it. I can't make it any simplier.
See? Melodrama. That ain't the reality of what the NFL is hoping for to impact its bottom line, fella.Yeah, the NFL DOES know this, but the real question is, "DO YOU???"Bad officiating doesn't have to be based a conspiracy theory--even if I might even agree. It could be a simplier case of the refs being blind or biased against the Cowboys or they could've been just plain stupid. Goodell didn't have to orchestrate anything if those were the cases, would he? sheesh.
Big surprise. Well, not really.

Whatever man. if it makes you feel better go for it. my mind will not change no matter how many times you post. so i will leave it at that. im not going to play games with you on this forum. im in no mood.im to hurt to play games.

 

[DallasEast]

Whatever man. if it makes you feel better go for it. my mind will not change no matter how many times you post. so i will leave it at that. im not going to play games with you on this forum. im in no mood.im to hurt to play games.

Games? Please. I'm inserting some reality into the nonsense, that's it, plain and simple.

 

[2much2soon]

Games? Please. I'm inserting some reality into the nonsense, that's it, plain and simple.

"Reality" is the furthest thing from what most of the posters in this thread are experiencing.

 

[Sarge]

.... However, it will be hard because I am thinking this is the year. My family was making plans, for it is all about football, food, and the Cowboys.

.... and beer...:beer2:

 

[CrazyCowboy]

I feel your pain......I really do

 

[cowboyrock]

Games? Please. I'm inserting some reality into the nonsense, that's it, plain and simple.

Whatever.it is what it is. no more games.

 

[DallasEast]

Whatever.it is what it is. no more games.

 

[zrinkill]

We don't need your high and mighty sympathy.

Well you got it ..... I feel sorry for those that are not able to let this go and enjoy the year that we had.

 

[jackrussell]

The Cowboy loss was tough, for sure, and I know you're a big fan, but it is times like these that demand a little perspective. I found this (below) on the web. It's a bit long...but I think it makes an excellent point.

Get back to life. Next season, you can get fired up about the Cowboys. They will be ready to win it all.



Once upon a time, I liked to get into the stadium early. While others cooked their brats, nibbled on their deviled eggs and sipped their martini’s in the parking lot, I skipped the tailgate to watch the kickers, punters and quarterbacks warm-up. I went for the game, not the gloss, and to watch the warriors of the gridiron limber for battle only added to the excitement.

Or did, I should say. You see, one day not too long ago, I found a paradox waiting for me inside Lambeau Field.

My wife’s family has great seats to see the Packers: Forty yard line behind the home team, off an aisle, with only the nicest, most loyal fans crowded around. After I weaved through the green and gold throngs to my seat, I flipped through the program to update my memory to the opposing team’s line-up. I had spent a good two hours listening to the pre-game radio shows on the drive to Green Bay and another thirty minutes bent over the morning paper consuming the local analysis with my pancakes. Still, I wanted more.

At the corner of my eye, I noticed a long column of geriatric humanity creeping from the home team’s tunnel on to the field. The line started with the old and ended with the ancient. Some hobbled with canes, others glided in wheelchairs. Broken and bent, bowed and wrinkled, they seemed to be marching to a beat all their own. When the parade ended at the thirty-yard line, over fifty of them stood at differing levels of teetering attention toward the far side-line.

A dozen young army soldiers, tight and buttoned in their dress green, escorted a few of the more unstable in the group. The leader of the procession, a surprisingly frail-looking officer wearing the foppish black army beret, flitted around them like an overly expressive dance teacher trying to get her ballerinas in order.

I immediately assumed that these old men had once served in the military and had all received some prestigious honor. The overhead announcer clarified my speculation: Each of these veterans had earned a Congressional Medal of Honor. Apparently, the CMH Reunion was in Green Bay that weekend. Who knew?

Let me first say that I am an ardent student of military history. I devour even the most obscure military texts just so I can reexamine battles I have reexamined a hundred times before. In my modest library, I even have a cheap paperback, dog-eared and tattered, that listed every single CMH recipient. I won’t bore you with what it means to earn the CMH except to say that anyone who wears that fancy bauble around their neck at one point in his or her life decided and acted on the premise that the lives of others – usually a comrade or comrades — was more important than his or her own.

So you can imagine how I felt when I saw all those brave men before me. It was like having Paul McCartney, Steve Wonder, Elton John and every single major music star of the last fifty years gather in one place. I probably had read about half the men down there. And there they were, in the flesh.

Time did not permit each name to be announced, so the veterans were called out on to the field by the war in which they fought. First the Gulf War group, then Vietnam and Korea, and finally the World War II vets. Constant applause rained down from all around the stadium, which was not a surprise. Wisconsin folk know the value of their soldiers, and would have applauded if this was a line of army clerks who had earned Purple Hearts getting paper cuts in the mail room.

I learned later that the Army has sponsored the CMH event as a recruiting tool – at half-time a bunch of raw recruits marched clumsily out on to midfield for a swearing-in ceremony – but even so, it was proud moment that brought me almost to warm, honest tears. If I was young and eager, I might have enlisted right then and there.

As I sat down on the bleachers to redeploy my thoughts back to the game, I found that I had lost focus. There I was, bundled in my fifty-dollar Packer jersey, straining to see the last of the veterans stagger back into the tunnel. The game suddenly had no meaning. What was a football game compare to men who might have risked everything in some airless desert or some unpronounceable forest in Europe with tree-bursts exploding overhead? It was like I had gone to a hot dog stand for some food and, suddenly, Wolfgang Puck yanked me into some side alley to show me his latest gourmet sensation.

I went to Lambeau Field to see a battlefield of sorts, but instead all I saw was an expensive stretch of artificial grass, not worthy of those old veterans who had marched along its edge. My sense of self-conflict only grew when the teams were announced: The starting Quarterback of the Green Bay Packers received a deafening cheer that made the applause for the veterans seem tame in comparison.

My wife found me in the stands just as roar of the crowd softened to noisy clatter. In her hands she carried a diet coke and a brat slathered in mustard and onions. “Here,” she said. “Are you ready for battle?”

Since no one else will.......nice read.

 

[LittleBoyBlue]

I just want to go to the gym and the office tomorrow and not see anymore OLD Giants t-shirts.

Lets go Breeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeettttttttt

 

[2much2soon]

Since no one else will.......nice read.

Yes, it was.
Those folks that let a game, over which they have absolutely no control over, influence their emotions to such an extent sadly won't get that story either.

 

[WiPatfan]

That's how I feel about football. There are greater things out there in life, football is just a diversion that should not suck your life away.

That said, it's still nice to see your football team in the big game.

 

[Boysboy]

I said a few days ago if the Packers lose, I would get SOME satisfaction.

Looks like my week this week will be ALOT better than last's.