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Who will laugh last? From: The Sporting News | Date: 4/11/1994
An American sports comic-drama in short-story form
If you like your tales filled with a mixture of powerful people, the lure of money, the egos of the elite, the feuding of the Hatfields and McCoys and even a little hint of sex, this one might prove too good to be true. But trust us, nothing has been changed to protect the innocent. And just think, we once thought sport gave us a fantasy world of relief from real life's impurities.
CHAPTER ONE
A group of friends is sitting at a table with Dallas Cowboys Coach Jimmy Johnson.
They are all former Cowboys employees, including a couple who were fired by Owner Jerry Jones. They are attending a social function in conjunction with the NFL winter meetings in Orlando. Jones spots them and wanders over to say hello. Inspired, he raises his glass to toast the continued success of the Cowboys. Of those sitting at the table, only Johnson makes any effort to respond, and even his acknowledgment is half-hearted. No question, Jones isn't welcome.
To Jones, the greeting is symbolic of a more troubling problem. Johnson and those around him have never shown him the respect the owner thinks he deserves. He knows they laugh at him behind his back, particularly when he takes credit for any football-related move associated with the Cowboys. From the outside, everything should be perfect for the Cowboys: They've won consecutive Super Bowls, they've got a young team that will be favored to capture an unprecedented third, and they are making money, lots of money.
But Johnson grates more and more at what he perceives as Jones' ever-growing desire to be cast as the Cowboys' savior. The football people in the organization want Jones to receive no recognition at all, except for having the common sense to hire Johnson five years ago from the University of Miami even though Johnson had no pro coaching experience. Johnson and his cohorts are amazed at the enormity of Jones' ego. The irony is that he really doesn't interfere with their ability to run the football operations. He just demands they keep him informed of what they are doing, so he can give his blessing before the moves are implemented. Even though Johnson and Jones vary between talking a lot and a little, depending on their moods, the Cowboys remain the most aggressive, responsive and effective organization in the league. Jones needs to stroked, that's all, but they prefer for him to go away.
But what does it take to keep Johnson satisfied? He is being paid $1 million a year, he is universally credited with being the brains behind the rejuvenation of this once-proud club, he is one championship away from almost certain induction in the Pro Football Hall of Fame. Yet just before the regular season ends, he expresses interest in jumping to the expansion team in Jacksonville, knowing it would rub Jones wrong. More than anything else, Jones demands deeply committed loyalty, and Johnson shows signs of distancing himself from his boss. Now this group in Orlando is laughing at Jones, too. Even though Johnson has five years left on his contract, Jones previously decided he would have an offseason meeting with his coach to straighten things out. Johnson has to re-establish his long-term commitment -- with free agency and the salary cap, Jones isn't interested in a coach who would stay maybe one more year -- or Jones is prepared to make a change.
The snub at the party outrages Jones and churns at his gut. Let them laugh. He adjourns to a bar in his hotel and has a few. Then a few more. He starts talking to reporters, telling them he should fire Johnson, that 500 coaches could win with the Cowboys, that Barry Switzer would be a great replacement. Tossing out Switzer's name has special meaning. Johnson and Switzer were college coaching rivals when Switzer was at Oklahoma and Johnson was first at Oklahoma State and then at Miami. In many ways they are much alike, but in truth, Johnson dislikes Switzer, who was the freshman coach of Jones and Johnson at Arkansas. If Jones wants to really outrage Johnson, he knows the correct button to push.
Johnson is outraged. Informed of Jones' outburst, Johnson storms from the meetings two days early. His fragile ego is aching. He has never spent more than five years at any head-coaching job, and he already has put in five years with Dallas. An intensely driven man, he needs to be reinsured constantly about his achievements. He is angered by every imagined slight, outraged sometimes by the smallest mistake. He is a control and neatness fanatic, a man who can never get enough of the spotlight. He rarely has a spontaneous moment, carefully planning the messages he sends to his players, opponents and, yes, owner through the media. He loves to party, drink beer and eat Mexican food, but he is wound so tightly, especially during the season, that there is a constant tension around the Cowboys' office. He doesn't have a lot of friends and does little to broaden his circle. Courting favor is not a Johnson strength.
The combination of Johnson's restlessness and Jones' uneasiness drives the two toward the owner's desired meeting. They exchange jabs through the press. The secretive Johnson suddenly is available for all types of interviews. He even flies in his mother and father, who rarely are seen in his company, to his Florida vacation spot. He appears on the verge of crying. Jones is being outmaneuvered by the master manipulator.
CHAPTER TWO
The two college friends finally decide to talk March 25 in Dallas. Or were they friends? Not really. They played on the same college team and roomed on the road because their names were next to each other in alphabetical order. But Jones hired Johnson because he was smart enough to recognize Johnson's coaching acumen. And Jones always has felt more comfortable surrounded by people he has known.
But this is business, and those old college ties mean nothing. People get the wrong read on Jones if they just listen to him talk in public. With his Arkansas drawl, he comes off as a country bumpkin. He and Johnson would chuckle about it, knowing that the rest of the NFL thought they were the second coming of Homer and Jethro. But engage Jones in a business conversation and out comes the side that made a fortune in the oil business. He is a tough, shrewd thinker who never reacts spontaneously in a business deal. He is bottom-line Jerry, tight with the buck and driven to succeed. The kind of person you shouldn't underestimate.
"The way they have gotten along for five years and with the success this team has had, you would think they could work something out," Cowboys center Mark Stepnoski says. But the two men never really wanted to compromise. Jones goes into the meeting convinced that the chances of Johnson staying are far less than the chances of him being release. Just in case, Jones already has called Switzer, to make sure he has a replacement ready. Maybe if Johnson agrees to coach five more years with the same commitment and fire that characterized the last five, then the duo can continue to function. But Johnson wants one more season, period. He already has been spending less time in the offseason at the Cowboys' complex than he had in previous years, even though key incumbent free agents, such as Stepnoski and guard Nate Newton, need to be courted and resigned. There isn't as much desire as before, and winning a third Super Bowl really isn't that important to him, at least not enough to put up with an owner who can't get his shadow out of Johnson's spotlight.
By the second day of the meetings, it is obvious their tenure is over. Johnson considers the two equal; Jones, as owner, thinks he is the boss. It is Jones' team; why should he back off from his role in personnel matters? Jones hands Johnson a $2-million severance offer. In exchange, Johnson can coach anywhere else immediately, but he agrees to talk positively about the breakup. Then the two hold one of the most bizarre news conferences in sports history. They act like best pals who just won the lottery. But a grim-faced Johnson is packed and out of his office by early the next morning. Cowboys players, who rebelled sometimes at his psychological maneuvering but loved his drive and enthusiasm, are told to go to his house to say goodbye. Even at the end, Jimmy is choreographing their every move.
CHAPTER THREE
Barry Switzer? The same guy who hasn't coached anywhere since 1988, his final season with an Oklahoma program that had lost control of its players. The same guy who never has coached in the pros? That Barry Switzer sits with Jones at yet another news conference, this one a day after Johnson is released. Switzer, the third head coach in Cowboys history, the guy who admits he thought he would never get a chance in the NFL, occasionally gets so enthusiastic it's almost laughable. He upstages his boss. He whacks him on the back. He makes people laugh. He is spontaneous. He is not Jimmy Johnson.
But given his Arkansas ties -- and his ties with Jones -- the hiring makes sense. He is high-profile, he is a motivator, he is players' coach. Johnson also is all three. But Switzer is much looser, less moody, less prone to rebel at slights. He has an ego, but it hardly rivals Johnson's. Switzer is a good ol' boy, a skirt chaser, a party animal. His friends say he can coach; others say the Xs and O's were never a strength. But Jones knows Switzer is inheriting a great staff of assistants -- Johnson left much of the football stuff to his aides -- and Jones believes his new coach is smart enough not to interfere. He needs a skilled point man, and Switzer fills that need.
It's almost too easy to dismiss Switzer as a Jones pawn. "It's Goober hiring dunce," Switzer jokes. Maybe that will be his role. But, unlike Johnson, Switzer is fully aware of who is in charge. Switzer is a leader in the Johnson mode; his main task will be to win over the affection of the Cowboys players. Receiver Michael Irvin, who reacts to Johnson's fate by throwing an empty garbage can at would-be TV interviews, says, "Ultimately, I don't give a damn who the coach is. I'm going to still work out because I've still got to play." Stacey Dillard, the New York Giants' defensive lineman who played for Switzer at Oklahoma, says the new Cowboys coach "gets everything possible out of his players. He's a players' coach. And he knew how to win."
Switzer leaves to spend the weekend studying the playbook "so I can learn what a forward pass is." He already has dealt with two major problems. Quarterback Troy Aikman played for Switzer at Oklahoma after being promised the Sooners would utilize a passing attack. But Aikman suffered a broken leg his sophomore season, and Oklahoma went on to win the national title with the wishbone. When Aikman realized Switzer wasn't going to abandon the 'bone, he transferred to UCLA.
"I' m not sure he is the best coach for the situation," Aikman says before Switzer is hired. After Switzer signs up, Aikman is more optimistic. "I think the chance of us repeating for the third Super Bowl is as realistic as before," he says.
Switzer also meets with Larry Lacewell, his former trusted assistant at Oklahoma. During a lawsuit involving his book, "Bootlegger's Boy," Switzer testifies that he had an affair with Lacewell's now ex-wife. Lacewell eventually joins the Cowboys, where he directs college scouting before being elevated last week to head the personnel department. Lacewell will direct the draft. but Jones will make the selections, a role Johnson had filled. Switzer says he will be an onlooker at this year's draft. After all, he isn't aware there no longer are 12 rounds. And Lacewell claims that the two men have made up and can work together just splendidly. Sure.
The rest of the league is laughing at the Cowboys. In the NFC East, the Commanders and Eagles don't say much publicly but privately are delighted. Johnson is admired as much for his personnel judgment as his coaching ability. Without him to pick talent, especially with salary-cap restrictions, these teams are convinced Dallas will be hurting, if not this upcoming season, then within two years for sure. And can Switzer gain loyalty from a coaching staff that was hired by Johnson and contains some of his close friends? It would be tough enough to win three titles in a row; now the Pokes have come back to the pack.
"We're not dancing in the streets. They are still the team to beat in our division," Giants Coach Dan Reeves says. "It will have an impact. But it's a tough but good situation for a head coach."
But not that great. "The rest of the NFC East will get pretty excited because they think this is a stumbling block for the Cowboys," Arizona quarterback Steve Beuerlein says.
"It's just stupid that something like this could happen," says Bob Ackles, the Cardinals' assistant general manger and a former Dallas employee who was sitting with Johnson the night of the Jones toast.
But when you don't have to play the Cowboys, it's easier to be more outspoken. Joe Theismann, the ESPN analyst, labels the release of Johnson "a big, big mistake. Jerry Jones is under the misconception that Jimmy Johnson is not important to his team's success. He is sorely mistaken. If it ain't broke, don't fix it. The 49ers and Bills are smiling. They are thinking they maybe have a chance now."
But Oklahoma State Coach Pat Jones, who coached under Johnson and against Switzer, says Barry "will soften the backlash. That's the way he is with people. He doesn't come on strong. he can be earthy, he can be arrogant, but I think his style always has been better suited to the NFL. The layoff might hurt him more if he was coming into a rebuilding situation. But with the talent he is inheriting and the staff, he is smart enough to not ruin it."
THE EPILOGUE
On his second day as coach of the Cowboys, Barry Switzer learns that reserve tight end Alfredo Roberts, who spent the 1993 season on injured reserve, has been released. Switzer gets the news on his car radio. "I don't have an ego that allows me to be put in a position to injure" his relationship with Jones, Switzer has said earlier. That ego already is being tested. The head coach of the Cowboys no longer is in charge of personnel.
Twenty-four hours later, Jerry Jones is sitting in the living room of his vacation place in Florida. In the background, a grandchild is laughing. Three days have passed since he severed ties with Jimmy Johnson, and Jones knows that around the NFL lots of people are laughing at him.
He's heard the laughter before from these football people. When he bought the Cowboys, man, did they chortle. Those two had no chance, none; after all, who was going to do the drafting? Who was going to teach Johnson to coach in the NFL?
After rebuilding the Cowboys into champs ...after parlaying a $140-million investment that bought him a team and a stadium into a sum worth perhaps twice as much in five years...after becoming one of the most influential owners in the league, Jones believes he should have earned everyone's respect. Indeed, he feels that if he had been general manager alone, without the owner's tag, he would have been highly honored, perhaps been chosen Executive of the Year at least once, for what the Cowboys have accomplished.
Now, there will be no question who really is the general manager of Dallas. But he won't be doing it alone. Just without Jimmy.
"This is a different set of circumstances than in 1989, when I would have been a lot more concerned," Jones says. "Before, we had no organization. Now it is a matter of just plugging in one man. So when someone says we will find out if we can succeed without Jimmy they are right. Can we? Will we? Yes. The way we are structured, no one person can mean the success or failure of the Dallas Cowboys."
He pauses. It had been a long two weeks. He had received death threats. He had driven borrowed cars to elude the media. He and Switzer couldn't agree publicly on what date the two had first spoken about the possibility of Switzer taking over the Cowboys. But that's all in the past. "I feel good about what has happened," Jones says. "I think we have challenged ourselves, but sometimes I can operate better when we have the pressure battery recharged. I wish our fans could share my feelings that we will be a very fine football team for a long time to come. We've always gone against the grain and we are doing it again this time. But I think we have had some measure of success.
"If I didn't think the decisions I make will carry us to success, Jimmy would still be here. The idea of this being a one-man show, it is just not true. Every time Jimmy would say something about his influence with the Cowboys and I would be asked about it, I would state that certainly someone other than Jimmy could be the coach and we'd still be successful. I know it would trouble Jimmy, but I felt that way. Now, from my perspective, things turned out the way I wanted. I am very comfortable with Barry Switzer. He is a great motivator, he is extremely intelligent and he is known for having tremendous loyalty, almost to a fault. You have to have loyalty. You have to have it."
But will they keep laughing? "Do I look concerned?" Jones replies. He looks like a man who has manipulated things just as he wanted. In the background, there is silence. At least for the moment.
Transition game
In case you are wondering, Jimmy Johnson is not the first coach to leave a Super Bowl winner.
The first to do it was Vince Lombardi, who quit Green Bay in 1968 after the Packers defeated Oakland in Super Bowl II. He returned to coaching a year later with Washington. Bill Walsh retired from San Francisco in 1989 after beating Cincinnati in Super Bowl XXIII. He took over the Stanford program in 1992. Bill Parcells left the New York Giants after beating Bufallo in Super Bowl XXV. He was hired by New England two years later. Joe Gibbs left the Commanders a year after his third Super Bowl triumph.
A number of coaches have made the jump from college head-coaching jobs to the pros without any previous NFL experience, a path Barry Switzer is taking. Switzer's predecessor, Jimmy Johnson, made the most successful transition with his two Super Bowl victories. Others who have done well include Don Coryell (Cardinals, Chargers), Chuck Fairbanks (Patriots) and Ron Meyer (Patriots, Colts).
But there have been a lot of flops, too. Lou Holtz (Jets) lasted only 13 games (3-10). John McKay (Tampa Bay), Tommy Prothro (Rams, Chargers) and Bud Wilkinson (Cardinals) all won no better than 40 percent of their games.
"You aren't playing East Carolina," Buddy Ryan said when Johnson was hired by the Cowboys. Johnson did better than Ryan expected, so maybe Oklahoma State's Pat Jones is right. "Coaching is coaching," he says. "But the better players you have, the easier it is to coach. Does Barry have good players?"
Sitting pretty
Suddenly, Joe Gibbs no longer is the hottest name out there. Gibbs is still playing the role of the reluctant coaching candidate, not sure if he wants to return to the sideline and leave his life as television analyst and race-ca sponsor. But Jimmy Johnson has no such distractions. Within a year, he'll have a new NFL job.
Despite some hints by him that he had burned out at Dallas, Johnson bailed out of the Cowboys mostly to get away from Owner Jerry Jones. Johnson is still eager to coach, but only in a situation where there will be absolutely, positively, no question who is responsible for every football decision: Jimmy Johnson. That eliminates any future vacancy that involves a team with a general manager. Johnson wants to be his own G.M., just as Bill Parcells (New England) and Buddy Ryan (Arizona) function in dual capacities.
But we can speculate about some juicy possibilities. In the best of all possible worlds, Johnson wants to end up with a job in Florida. ASked about the possibility of working for new ownership in Philadelphia, Johnson said the job was "too far north of the equator."
Jacksonville isn't a factor because it just hired Tom Coughlin and gave him the authority Johnson is seeking. Tampa Bay invested that same power in Sam Wyche, who has done little to improve the situation. So mark down Wyche as a man on the spot next season.
But should, of all people, Don Shula be placed in the same category? Shula, the winningest coach in pro history, has a year left on his contract and a new owner, Wayne Huizenga. As long as the Robbie family owned the team, Shula had a job until he wanted to retire. But there were enough inquiries directed at Shula last week that he finally had to address the Johnson issue.
"It doesn't matter if it bothers me or doesn't bother me," Shula says. "It's there. It's something I'm aware of and I'll deal with. I haven't made a decision, but I still love coaching. I'll just continue to do the best with my responsibilities here." Shula, 64 plans to meet with Huizenga about his future but possibly not until after next season. Huizenga issued a statement saying Shula was the coach of the Dolphins. Thanks, Wayne, for the help.
Johnson says he will take a year off from coaching and likely will wind up in '94 as a commentator for Fox, the new NFL network. With a $2-million severance check from Jones to fill his bank account, Johnson can afford to sit back, soak in the south Florida sun and wait until the bidding was for his service starts.
Paul Attner is a senior writer for The Sporting News.
----------------
11 years without a playoff win.
You really showed 'em Jerry.
An American sports comic-drama in short-story form
If you like your tales filled with a mixture of powerful people, the lure of money, the egos of the elite, the feuding of the Hatfields and McCoys and even a little hint of sex, this one might prove too good to be true. But trust us, nothing has been changed to protect the innocent. And just think, we once thought sport gave us a fantasy world of relief from real life's impurities.
CHAPTER ONE
A group of friends is sitting at a table with Dallas Cowboys Coach Jimmy Johnson.
They are all former Cowboys employees, including a couple who were fired by Owner Jerry Jones. They are attending a social function in conjunction with the NFL winter meetings in Orlando. Jones spots them and wanders over to say hello. Inspired, he raises his glass to toast the continued success of the Cowboys. Of those sitting at the table, only Johnson makes any effort to respond, and even his acknowledgment is half-hearted. No question, Jones isn't welcome.
To Jones, the greeting is symbolic of a more troubling problem. Johnson and those around him have never shown him the respect the owner thinks he deserves. He knows they laugh at him behind his back, particularly when he takes credit for any football-related move associated with the Cowboys. From the outside, everything should be perfect for the Cowboys: They've won consecutive Super Bowls, they've got a young team that will be favored to capture an unprecedented third, and they are making money, lots of money.
But Johnson grates more and more at what he perceives as Jones' ever-growing desire to be cast as the Cowboys' savior. The football people in the organization want Jones to receive no recognition at all, except for having the common sense to hire Johnson five years ago from the University of Miami even though Johnson had no pro coaching experience. Johnson and his cohorts are amazed at the enormity of Jones' ego. The irony is that he really doesn't interfere with their ability to run the football operations. He just demands they keep him informed of what they are doing, so he can give his blessing before the moves are implemented. Even though Johnson and Jones vary between talking a lot and a little, depending on their moods, the Cowboys remain the most aggressive, responsive and effective organization in the league. Jones needs to stroked, that's all, but they prefer for him to go away.
But what does it take to keep Johnson satisfied? He is being paid $1 million a year, he is universally credited with being the brains behind the rejuvenation of this once-proud club, he is one championship away from almost certain induction in the Pro Football Hall of Fame. Yet just before the regular season ends, he expresses interest in jumping to the expansion team in Jacksonville, knowing it would rub Jones wrong. More than anything else, Jones demands deeply committed loyalty, and Johnson shows signs of distancing himself from his boss. Now this group in Orlando is laughing at Jones, too. Even though Johnson has five years left on his contract, Jones previously decided he would have an offseason meeting with his coach to straighten things out. Johnson has to re-establish his long-term commitment -- with free agency and the salary cap, Jones isn't interested in a coach who would stay maybe one more year -- or Jones is prepared to make a change.
The snub at the party outrages Jones and churns at his gut. Let them laugh. He adjourns to a bar in his hotel and has a few. Then a few more. He starts talking to reporters, telling them he should fire Johnson, that 500 coaches could win with the Cowboys, that Barry Switzer would be a great replacement. Tossing out Switzer's name has special meaning. Johnson and Switzer were college coaching rivals when Switzer was at Oklahoma and Johnson was first at Oklahoma State and then at Miami. In many ways they are much alike, but in truth, Johnson dislikes Switzer, who was the freshman coach of Jones and Johnson at Arkansas. If Jones wants to really outrage Johnson, he knows the correct button to push.
Johnson is outraged. Informed of Jones' outburst, Johnson storms from the meetings two days early. His fragile ego is aching. He has never spent more than five years at any head-coaching job, and he already has put in five years with Dallas. An intensely driven man, he needs to be reinsured constantly about his achievements. He is angered by every imagined slight, outraged sometimes by the smallest mistake. He is a control and neatness fanatic, a man who can never get enough of the spotlight. He rarely has a spontaneous moment, carefully planning the messages he sends to his players, opponents and, yes, owner through the media. He loves to party, drink beer and eat Mexican food, but he is wound so tightly, especially during the season, that there is a constant tension around the Cowboys' office. He doesn't have a lot of friends and does little to broaden his circle. Courting favor is not a Johnson strength.
The combination of Johnson's restlessness and Jones' uneasiness drives the two toward the owner's desired meeting. They exchange jabs through the press. The secretive Johnson suddenly is available for all types of interviews. He even flies in his mother and father, who rarely are seen in his company, to his Florida vacation spot. He appears on the verge of crying. Jones is being outmaneuvered by the master manipulator.
CHAPTER TWO
The two college friends finally decide to talk March 25 in Dallas. Or were they friends? Not really. They played on the same college team and roomed on the road because their names were next to each other in alphabetical order. But Jones hired Johnson because he was smart enough to recognize Johnson's coaching acumen. And Jones always has felt more comfortable surrounded by people he has known.
But this is business, and those old college ties mean nothing. People get the wrong read on Jones if they just listen to him talk in public. With his Arkansas drawl, he comes off as a country bumpkin. He and Johnson would chuckle about it, knowing that the rest of the NFL thought they were the second coming of Homer and Jethro. But engage Jones in a business conversation and out comes the side that made a fortune in the oil business. He is a tough, shrewd thinker who never reacts spontaneously in a business deal. He is bottom-line Jerry, tight with the buck and driven to succeed. The kind of person you shouldn't underestimate.
"The way they have gotten along for five years and with the success this team has had, you would think they could work something out," Cowboys center Mark Stepnoski says. But the two men never really wanted to compromise. Jones goes into the meeting convinced that the chances of Johnson staying are far less than the chances of him being release. Just in case, Jones already has called Switzer, to make sure he has a replacement ready. Maybe if Johnson agrees to coach five more years with the same commitment and fire that characterized the last five, then the duo can continue to function. But Johnson wants one more season, period. He already has been spending less time in the offseason at the Cowboys' complex than he had in previous years, even though key incumbent free agents, such as Stepnoski and guard Nate Newton, need to be courted and resigned. There isn't as much desire as before, and winning a third Super Bowl really isn't that important to him, at least not enough to put up with an owner who can't get his shadow out of Johnson's spotlight.
By the second day of the meetings, it is obvious their tenure is over. Johnson considers the two equal; Jones, as owner, thinks he is the boss. It is Jones' team; why should he back off from his role in personnel matters? Jones hands Johnson a $2-million severance offer. In exchange, Johnson can coach anywhere else immediately, but he agrees to talk positively about the breakup. Then the two hold one of the most bizarre news conferences in sports history. They act like best pals who just won the lottery. But a grim-faced Johnson is packed and out of his office by early the next morning. Cowboys players, who rebelled sometimes at his psychological maneuvering but loved his drive and enthusiasm, are told to go to his house to say goodbye. Even at the end, Jimmy is choreographing their every move.
CHAPTER THREE
Barry Switzer? The same guy who hasn't coached anywhere since 1988, his final season with an Oklahoma program that had lost control of its players. The same guy who never has coached in the pros? That Barry Switzer sits with Jones at yet another news conference, this one a day after Johnson is released. Switzer, the third head coach in Cowboys history, the guy who admits he thought he would never get a chance in the NFL, occasionally gets so enthusiastic it's almost laughable. He upstages his boss. He whacks him on the back. He makes people laugh. He is spontaneous. He is not Jimmy Johnson.
But given his Arkansas ties -- and his ties with Jones -- the hiring makes sense. He is high-profile, he is a motivator, he is players' coach. Johnson also is all three. But Switzer is much looser, less moody, less prone to rebel at slights. He has an ego, but it hardly rivals Johnson's. Switzer is a good ol' boy, a skirt chaser, a party animal. His friends say he can coach; others say the Xs and O's were never a strength. But Jones knows Switzer is inheriting a great staff of assistants -- Johnson left much of the football stuff to his aides -- and Jones believes his new coach is smart enough not to interfere. He needs a skilled point man, and Switzer fills that need.
It's almost too easy to dismiss Switzer as a Jones pawn. "It's Goober hiring dunce," Switzer jokes. Maybe that will be his role. But, unlike Johnson, Switzer is fully aware of who is in charge. Switzer is a leader in the Johnson mode; his main task will be to win over the affection of the Cowboys players. Receiver Michael Irvin, who reacts to Johnson's fate by throwing an empty garbage can at would-be TV interviews, says, "Ultimately, I don't give a damn who the coach is. I'm going to still work out because I've still got to play." Stacey Dillard, the New York Giants' defensive lineman who played for Switzer at Oklahoma, says the new Cowboys coach "gets everything possible out of his players. He's a players' coach. And he knew how to win."
Switzer leaves to spend the weekend studying the playbook "so I can learn what a forward pass is." He already has dealt with two major problems. Quarterback Troy Aikman played for Switzer at Oklahoma after being promised the Sooners would utilize a passing attack. But Aikman suffered a broken leg his sophomore season, and Oklahoma went on to win the national title with the wishbone. When Aikman realized Switzer wasn't going to abandon the 'bone, he transferred to UCLA.
"I' m not sure he is the best coach for the situation," Aikman says before Switzer is hired. After Switzer signs up, Aikman is more optimistic. "I think the chance of us repeating for the third Super Bowl is as realistic as before," he says.
Switzer also meets with Larry Lacewell, his former trusted assistant at Oklahoma. During a lawsuit involving his book, "Bootlegger's Boy," Switzer testifies that he had an affair with Lacewell's now ex-wife. Lacewell eventually joins the Cowboys, where he directs college scouting before being elevated last week to head the personnel department. Lacewell will direct the draft. but Jones will make the selections, a role Johnson had filled. Switzer says he will be an onlooker at this year's draft. After all, he isn't aware there no longer are 12 rounds. And Lacewell claims that the two men have made up and can work together just splendidly. Sure.
The rest of the league is laughing at the Cowboys. In the NFC East, the Commanders and Eagles don't say much publicly but privately are delighted. Johnson is admired as much for his personnel judgment as his coaching ability. Without him to pick talent, especially with salary-cap restrictions, these teams are convinced Dallas will be hurting, if not this upcoming season, then within two years for sure. And can Switzer gain loyalty from a coaching staff that was hired by Johnson and contains some of his close friends? It would be tough enough to win three titles in a row; now the Pokes have come back to the pack.
"We're not dancing in the streets. They are still the team to beat in our division," Giants Coach Dan Reeves says. "It will have an impact. But it's a tough but good situation for a head coach."
But not that great. "The rest of the NFC East will get pretty excited because they think this is a stumbling block for the Cowboys," Arizona quarterback Steve Beuerlein says.
"It's just stupid that something like this could happen," says Bob Ackles, the Cardinals' assistant general manger and a former Dallas employee who was sitting with Johnson the night of the Jones toast.
But when you don't have to play the Cowboys, it's easier to be more outspoken. Joe Theismann, the ESPN analyst, labels the release of Johnson "a big, big mistake. Jerry Jones is under the misconception that Jimmy Johnson is not important to his team's success. He is sorely mistaken. If it ain't broke, don't fix it. The 49ers and Bills are smiling. They are thinking they maybe have a chance now."
But Oklahoma State Coach Pat Jones, who coached under Johnson and against Switzer, says Barry "will soften the backlash. That's the way he is with people. He doesn't come on strong. he can be earthy, he can be arrogant, but I think his style always has been better suited to the NFL. The layoff might hurt him more if he was coming into a rebuilding situation. But with the talent he is inheriting and the staff, he is smart enough to not ruin it."
THE EPILOGUE
On his second day as coach of the Cowboys, Barry Switzer learns that reserve tight end Alfredo Roberts, who spent the 1993 season on injured reserve, has been released. Switzer gets the news on his car radio. "I don't have an ego that allows me to be put in a position to injure" his relationship with Jones, Switzer has said earlier. That ego already is being tested. The head coach of the Cowboys no longer is in charge of personnel.
Twenty-four hours later, Jerry Jones is sitting in the living room of his vacation place in Florida. In the background, a grandchild is laughing. Three days have passed since he severed ties with Jimmy Johnson, and Jones knows that around the NFL lots of people are laughing at him.
He's heard the laughter before from these football people. When he bought the Cowboys, man, did they chortle. Those two had no chance, none; after all, who was going to do the drafting? Who was going to teach Johnson to coach in the NFL?
After rebuilding the Cowboys into champs ...after parlaying a $140-million investment that bought him a team and a stadium into a sum worth perhaps twice as much in five years...after becoming one of the most influential owners in the league, Jones believes he should have earned everyone's respect. Indeed, he feels that if he had been general manager alone, without the owner's tag, he would have been highly honored, perhaps been chosen Executive of the Year at least once, for what the Cowboys have accomplished.
Now, there will be no question who really is the general manager of Dallas. But he won't be doing it alone. Just without Jimmy.
"This is a different set of circumstances than in 1989, when I would have been a lot more concerned," Jones says. "Before, we had no organization. Now it is a matter of just plugging in one man. So when someone says we will find out if we can succeed without Jimmy they are right. Can we? Will we? Yes. The way we are structured, no one person can mean the success or failure of the Dallas Cowboys."
He pauses. It had been a long two weeks. He had received death threats. He had driven borrowed cars to elude the media. He and Switzer couldn't agree publicly on what date the two had first spoken about the possibility of Switzer taking over the Cowboys. But that's all in the past. "I feel good about what has happened," Jones says. "I think we have challenged ourselves, but sometimes I can operate better when we have the pressure battery recharged. I wish our fans could share my feelings that we will be a very fine football team for a long time to come. We've always gone against the grain and we are doing it again this time. But I think we have had some measure of success.
"If I didn't think the decisions I make will carry us to success, Jimmy would still be here. The idea of this being a one-man show, it is just not true. Every time Jimmy would say something about his influence with the Cowboys and I would be asked about it, I would state that certainly someone other than Jimmy could be the coach and we'd still be successful. I know it would trouble Jimmy, but I felt that way. Now, from my perspective, things turned out the way I wanted. I am very comfortable with Barry Switzer. He is a great motivator, he is extremely intelligent and he is known for having tremendous loyalty, almost to a fault. You have to have loyalty. You have to have it."
But will they keep laughing? "Do I look concerned?" Jones replies. He looks like a man who has manipulated things just as he wanted. In the background, there is silence. At least for the moment.
Transition game
In case you are wondering, Jimmy Johnson is not the first coach to leave a Super Bowl winner.
The first to do it was Vince Lombardi, who quit Green Bay in 1968 after the Packers defeated Oakland in Super Bowl II. He returned to coaching a year later with Washington. Bill Walsh retired from San Francisco in 1989 after beating Cincinnati in Super Bowl XXIII. He took over the Stanford program in 1992. Bill Parcells left the New York Giants after beating Bufallo in Super Bowl XXV. He was hired by New England two years later. Joe Gibbs left the Commanders a year after his third Super Bowl triumph.
A number of coaches have made the jump from college head-coaching jobs to the pros without any previous NFL experience, a path Barry Switzer is taking. Switzer's predecessor, Jimmy Johnson, made the most successful transition with his two Super Bowl victories. Others who have done well include Don Coryell (Cardinals, Chargers), Chuck Fairbanks (Patriots) and Ron Meyer (Patriots, Colts).
But there have been a lot of flops, too. Lou Holtz (Jets) lasted only 13 games (3-10). John McKay (Tampa Bay), Tommy Prothro (Rams, Chargers) and Bud Wilkinson (Cardinals) all won no better than 40 percent of their games.
"You aren't playing East Carolina," Buddy Ryan said when Johnson was hired by the Cowboys. Johnson did better than Ryan expected, so maybe Oklahoma State's Pat Jones is right. "Coaching is coaching," he says. "But the better players you have, the easier it is to coach. Does Barry have good players?"
Sitting pretty
Suddenly, Joe Gibbs no longer is the hottest name out there. Gibbs is still playing the role of the reluctant coaching candidate, not sure if he wants to return to the sideline and leave his life as television analyst and race-ca sponsor. But Jimmy Johnson has no such distractions. Within a year, he'll have a new NFL job.
Despite some hints by him that he had burned out at Dallas, Johnson bailed out of the Cowboys mostly to get away from Owner Jerry Jones. Johnson is still eager to coach, but only in a situation where there will be absolutely, positively, no question who is responsible for every football decision: Jimmy Johnson. That eliminates any future vacancy that involves a team with a general manager. Johnson wants to be his own G.M., just as Bill Parcells (New England) and Buddy Ryan (Arizona) function in dual capacities.
But we can speculate about some juicy possibilities. In the best of all possible worlds, Johnson wants to end up with a job in Florida. ASked about the possibility of working for new ownership in Philadelphia, Johnson said the job was "too far north of the equator."
Jacksonville isn't a factor because it just hired Tom Coughlin and gave him the authority Johnson is seeking. Tampa Bay invested that same power in Sam Wyche, who has done little to improve the situation. So mark down Wyche as a man on the spot next season.
But should, of all people, Don Shula be placed in the same category? Shula, the winningest coach in pro history, has a year left on his contract and a new owner, Wayne Huizenga. As long as the Robbie family owned the team, Shula had a job until he wanted to retire. But there were enough inquiries directed at Shula last week that he finally had to address the Johnson issue.
"It doesn't matter if it bothers me or doesn't bother me," Shula says. "It's there. It's something I'm aware of and I'll deal with. I haven't made a decision, but I still love coaching. I'll just continue to do the best with my responsibilities here." Shula, 64 plans to meet with Huizenga about his future but possibly not until after next season. Huizenga issued a statement saying Shula was the coach of the Dolphins. Thanks, Wayne, for the help.
Johnson says he will take a year off from coaching and likely will wind up in '94 as a commentator for Fox, the new NFL network. With a $2-million severance check from Jones to fill his bank account, Johnson can afford to sit back, soak in the south Florida sun and wait until the bidding was for his service starts.
Paul Attner is a senior writer for The Sporting News.
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11 years without a playoff win.
You really showed 'em Jerry.
