TheWarrenReport
Member
- Messages
- 132
- Reaction score
- 3
“It’s not who we play. It’s how we play.” Indeed. Thank you, Bradie James.
With their scrappy 20-16 victory Sunday night, the Cowboys demonstrated they would no longer rise and fall in accordance with their competition. Instead, they focused on performing as best they could, which was well enough to win. And, they could always be good enough, provided the team and its leaders continue to preach accountability. Tony Romo told Sports Illustrated’s Peter King: “Each guy doesn’t have to do anything but his best. That’ll be good enough for us to make the plays we need.” As inspiring as the quarterback’s short sermon may be, there’s a more compelling reason to have Faith in the Cowboys’ current four-game win streak: they’re smiling.
It is easy to suggest this year’s squad is significantly improved due to the off-season dismissals of tabloid troublemakers Tank, T.O. and PacMan. Certainly, it’s a neat story-line, one that’s easy for overpaid football pundits to parse and pass on while patting management (and themselves) on the back. And surely, the departure of these shamed, selfish players is beneficial, but not nearly as much as the remaining roster’s improved attitude. Somehow, these Cowboys learned to have fun again and, in turn, they’re much more fun to watch. Tune in to pre-game coverage and you see the difference. Remember the home-opener against the Giants? Recall the cameras scanning the sidelines? Dallas looked tighter than Joan Rivers‘ face bathed with egg whites. There was little joy to be inferred from the expressions on players’ faces, just queasy anticipation. Flash ahead to the endzone celebration in Kansas City, when the Cowboys claimed an overtime victory that ought have been more easily earned. Giddy teammates kept piling on top of Miles Austin as if they were all Bobby Carpenter in search of a defensive stat. Yes, they were happy. This is the bigger contribution Austin has made ever since; Miles smiles and his boyish enthusiasm appears contagious. (His touchdowns and YAC don’t hurt either.) Did you catch the jubilant outbursts after Sunday night’s fourth-down stop of Donovan McNabb or after Jason Witten’s clock-killing first-down grab? You would have thought everyone on the bench was going to Disneyland.
Did the Cowboys ever seem happy playing for Bill Parcells? No. Determined, maybe. Fearful, more likely. Did they ever seem happy playing for Jimmy Johnson? No. Confident, unquestionably. Arrogant, arguably. Those Super Bowl champs sure had swagger, but a lot less soul. They expected themselves to be brilliant and were blessed to have the talent and coaching to back their self-assured bluster. I am still not convinced that Wade Phillips is the best coach in the best of all possible worlds, but to be candid(e), in the midst of this modest win streak, he manages the team’s emotions well. (Better than Andy Reid manages the game clock, for sure.) And while today’s Dallas squad may lack the depth and star power of its early 90s counterparts, I much prefer these Cowboys’ spontaneous exultations. They recognize good fortune as what it is: the sum of effort and luck. As brilliantly as Troy Aikman quarterbacked, the precision of his play was far from mirthful. Compare that to Jay Ratliff’s primal outbursts when knifing behind the line of scrimmage to stuff a run or squash a passer. #90 clearly loves the game as much as do kids in a sandlot. Yes, one could argue that only results matter, but perhaps its time to reconsider how we evaluate our success.
Ever since Michael Corleone instructed “It’s not personal. It’s strictly business.” Many Americans seem to have embraced the mob/ster mentality. True, Life is simpler when we ignore our ethical obligations to focus on every matter as ones to be weighed professionally, pragmatically. Leave the emotions. Take the cannolis. But we do so at the expense of our happiness.
This weekend, I remembered how much fun I have when I simply do my job. Well. I remembered how much satisfaction I derive from sharing whatever knowledge I have with others and how much audiences and students have to offer me when I truly listen. Most of all, I remembered to smile. A near year-long stretch of anxiety, insecurity and instability had left me almost paralyzed and while I could still curl my lips upwards, it was an effort, an effort incomparable to the pleasure derived from smiling involuntarily.
Surely, I am not alone in readjusting to hard times. While sinking, it may be natural to concentrate on bailing out rather than consider pitching it all in. Captains pride themselves on going down with their vessels, but is that courage or hubris? Sometimes, the best answer is abandoning ship; recognizing the value of the crew is greater than the failing means of transport. Desperate times call for new measures, not necessarily desperate ones. Sometimes the riddle isn’t sink or swim. The answer is sink AND swim! Stop worrying so much. If you don’t know how to swim, let a smile be your life preserver.
With their scrappy 20-16 victory Sunday night, the Cowboys demonstrated they would no longer rise and fall in accordance with their competition. Instead, they focused on performing as best they could, which was well enough to win. And, they could always be good enough, provided the team and its leaders continue to preach accountability. Tony Romo told Sports Illustrated’s Peter King: “Each guy doesn’t have to do anything but his best. That’ll be good enough for us to make the plays we need.” As inspiring as the quarterback’s short sermon may be, there’s a more compelling reason to have Faith in the Cowboys’ current four-game win streak: they’re smiling.
It is easy to suggest this year’s squad is significantly improved due to the off-season dismissals of tabloid troublemakers Tank, T.O. and PacMan. Certainly, it’s a neat story-line, one that’s easy for overpaid football pundits to parse and pass on while patting management (and themselves) on the back. And surely, the departure of these shamed, selfish players is beneficial, but not nearly as much as the remaining roster’s improved attitude. Somehow, these Cowboys learned to have fun again and, in turn, they’re much more fun to watch. Tune in to pre-game coverage and you see the difference. Remember the home-opener against the Giants? Recall the cameras scanning the sidelines? Dallas looked tighter than Joan Rivers‘ face bathed with egg whites. There was little joy to be inferred from the expressions on players’ faces, just queasy anticipation. Flash ahead to the endzone celebration in Kansas City, when the Cowboys claimed an overtime victory that ought have been more easily earned. Giddy teammates kept piling on top of Miles Austin as if they were all Bobby Carpenter in search of a defensive stat. Yes, they were happy. This is the bigger contribution Austin has made ever since; Miles smiles and his boyish enthusiasm appears contagious. (His touchdowns and YAC don’t hurt either.) Did you catch the jubilant outbursts after Sunday night’s fourth-down stop of Donovan McNabb or after Jason Witten’s clock-killing first-down grab? You would have thought everyone on the bench was going to Disneyland.
Did the Cowboys ever seem happy playing for Bill Parcells? No. Determined, maybe. Fearful, more likely. Did they ever seem happy playing for Jimmy Johnson? No. Confident, unquestionably. Arrogant, arguably. Those Super Bowl champs sure had swagger, but a lot less soul. They expected themselves to be brilliant and were blessed to have the talent and coaching to back their self-assured bluster. I am still not convinced that Wade Phillips is the best coach in the best of all possible worlds, but to be candid(e), in the midst of this modest win streak, he manages the team’s emotions well. (Better than Andy Reid manages the game clock, for sure.) And while today’s Dallas squad may lack the depth and star power of its early 90s counterparts, I much prefer these Cowboys’ spontaneous exultations. They recognize good fortune as what it is: the sum of effort and luck. As brilliantly as Troy Aikman quarterbacked, the precision of his play was far from mirthful. Compare that to Jay Ratliff’s primal outbursts when knifing behind the line of scrimmage to stuff a run or squash a passer. #90 clearly loves the game as much as do kids in a sandlot. Yes, one could argue that only results matter, but perhaps its time to reconsider how we evaluate our success.
Ever since Michael Corleone instructed “It’s not personal. It’s strictly business.” Many Americans seem to have embraced the mob/ster mentality. True, Life is simpler when we ignore our ethical obligations to focus on every matter as ones to be weighed professionally, pragmatically. Leave the emotions. Take the cannolis. But we do so at the expense of our happiness.
This weekend, I remembered how much fun I have when I simply do my job. Well. I remembered how much satisfaction I derive from sharing whatever knowledge I have with others and how much audiences and students have to offer me when I truly listen. Most of all, I remembered to smile. A near year-long stretch of anxiety, insecurity and instability had left me almost paralyzed and while I could still curl my lips upwards, it was an effort, an effort incomparable to the pleasure derived from smiling involuntarily.
Surely, I am not alone in readjusting to hard times. While sinking, it may be natural to concentrate on bailing out rather than consider pitching it all in. Captains pride themselves on going down with their vessels, but is that courage or hubris? Sometimes, the best answer is abandoning ship; recognizing the value of the crew is greater than the failing means of transport. Desperate times call for new measures, not necessarily desperate ones. Sometimes the riddle isn’t sink or swim. The answer is sink AND swim! Stop worrying so much. If you don’t know how to swim, let a smile be your life preserver.
