I was three years old- 1978.
I was born and living in a tiny town outside of Corpus Christie- Ingleside. Maybe 35 total population then.
My mother was born and raised in Long Island, but had no interest in sports.
My father was from the mountains of West Virginia, but for some reason- a huge Cowboys fan.
My father had a terrible accident in that foul year of our Lord- 1978 and I lost him forever.
But the Dallas Cowboys remained.
You have to understand- in South Texas back then, you were a Cowboys fan or there was a problem with you. It was almost conditioned in you.
Not only did I embrace it, I clinged to it. My mother went through terrible relationship after terrible relationship, and things constantly were in flux after my father's accident, but the one thing that was always there for me was THAT game on Sunday.
My Dallas Cowboys were going to walk into someone's stadium, maybe their own, maybe someone else's and go to war for me.
Old Mr. Campbell, our closest neighbor of three miles away who was in his late 70's would ride his old, almost broken bicycle to our mobile home (before a hurricane blew it away) every Sunday and would give me a piece of gum and we'd watch the Cowboys together. Him and me. Like he was my Grandfather. He wasn't, but he was to me- and it was the Cowboys that we shared. Wonderful memories in those heady years of the late 70's and very early 80's.
I tear up typing this.
This football team from the city of Dallas, Texas will always mean more to me than a mere sport. It's continuation of a legacy.
A legacy of fandom.
From my father, to old Mr. Campbell, to me and then it will be to my children.
No matter who owns the team, no matter who coaches it or their win/loss record.
It will always be more than that. They will always be MY team. I will always be LOYAL to OUR Dallas Cowboys.
Now and forever.