One of my favorite lines from Adam Sandler's 1998 film, "The Waterboy" — you know, back when Sandler was actually able to make an audience laugh consistently for a full−length movie — is when, at a postgame party, he orders a "scotch and a water, hold the scotch."
That quote immediately came to mind while I was watching the Cowboys' absolute debacle of a loss to the Jaguars on Sunday. And although Dallas fans may need a few glasses of Johnnie Walker after watching their team drop to 1−6 on the season, I was referring more to the fact that the Cowboys' season is serving up a heaping order of "the good, the bad and the ugly … hold the good."
Now, all the apologies in the world won't be able to dig the Cowboys out of this self−inflicted chasm of a season.
After the 35−17 loss — Dallas's fourth in a row and the fifth game in which the team's given up at least 24 points — owner Jerry Jones shouldered the blame, asking for forgiveness from the fans. Talking about how "embarrassed" he was after the game, he said he plans to "take the ultimate, ultimate responsibility." Oh, and he also said that he was "dumbfounded that we are 1−7."
Save the fact that the owner of the Cowboys has no idea what their record is — probably because he spent the entire game thinking about how the Lord could let what has been described as "God's team" allow David Garrard to throw four touchdown passes — the irony of Jones' statements is that they only exacerbate the problem and draw attention to his own shortcomings as an owner.
Like with rectangles and squares, not all excuses are apologies, but all apologies are certainly excuses. Begging forgiveness has subservient implications attached and, in this case, fans will see Jones' apology as an acceptance of mediocrity. Rather than do something about the situation, like actively search for an answer, Jones instead hoisted up his white flag and threw up his hands in bewilderment.
Of course, this is the only possible solution for a man so infatuated with himself that he essentially erected a billion−dollar shrine to his Texan empire. Stepping down, which would please more than a few fans of both the Cowboys and football in general, is clearly out of the question. So too is firing Wade Phillips in the middle of the season, something Jones promised he wouldn't do.
The end result has almost become monotonously routine: Cowboys lose on Sunday afternoon. Jones steps in front of the microphone Sunday night, accepting full responsibility and lamenting about his embarrassment and how he's let Dallas's fans down. And then no substantial changes are made throughout the week. Rinse and repeat.
Maybe this would work in a city forever content with perennial mediocrity, but not in Dallas. The Cowboys are America's Team, a notion that seems drastically out−of−date, especially given that almost a third of NFL teams have won a Super Bowl since Big D last hoisted the Lombardi Trophy.
Becoming the American embodiment of a sport doesn't happen overnight and, as it seems, cannot be lost in that short time span either. But just like Notre Dame has fallen out of favor in recent years as fans have begun to realize that the Fighting Irish will never, in the near future, venture back into the glory days, so, too, must Dallas fans accept the harsh, biting reality.
Remember in the preseason, when the Cowboys were the trendy pick to become the first team to play in a Super Bowl that its hometown was hosting? Remember when we laughed off the Dez Bryant−Roy Williams pad incident, saying that it would only make this team stronger? Along with Tony Romo's season and dignity, those days are gone.
All we're left with, then, is a babbling, apologetic owner blinded by ambition and potential, unable to gain perspective and make a tough decision to benefit the future.
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Alex Prewitt is a junior majoring in English and religion. He can be reached on his blog at livefrommudville.blogspot.com or followed on Twitter at @Alex_Prewitt.
