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8/6/03
Email Dan
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Ah, finally hope for the end of the boring dog days of summer. Poor
dogs, why do they get the blame for summer boredom. Pooches didn't
have anything to do with the devolution of the former American Pass
Time (AKA Major League Baseball).
To me the long stretch from parading Lord Stanley's Cup around the
rink until the opening week of the NFL is one long sports wasteland.
Baseball is a joke of spoiled whinny overpaid idiots. Golf is not
even a sport. NASCAR, please wipe on your way off my list. But usually
this time of the year has its own flavor of mixed depression and
hope for Cowboy fans. This has been the season when Jerry Jones
parades the latest of his lap dog coaches to camp while making mindlessly
numbing statements like: (From last year's Preseason Banquet) "This
(the 2002 Dallas Cowboys) is the finest collection of talent I have
ever been associated with."
This season marks the 5th Cowboy training camp I have attended.
With the jackals of the media slobbering about how Parcels and Jones
will never work together, I had my own reservations to calm as our
crew headed to San Antonio. Previous pretenders to the coaching
throne never seemed to exhibit the control or influence that a traditional
head coach would enjoy. Post Jimmy, it seemed that nary a man existed
who could wrestle the baton of command from Mr. Jones' hand. But
in recent press conferences, marred by reporters looking to dig
up chinks and blemishes, displayed tremendous deference by both
Jones and Parcels on the issue of authority.
Coach Parcels says that he knows his job. He acknowledged that Mr.
Jones has the right to pull rank as necessary. The haters latched
onto those phrases and fantasized about future conflicts. What the
haters failed to hear was Mr. Jones' replies that the "way things
are done around here," are changing.
Having seen how destructive that ego of his could be, I remained
a little skeptical.
Last season, the Alamo Dome was a hailstorm of music, chants, audience
interviews and promoter plugs. Rowdy and Rich roamed the stands,
putting Ma and Pa fan on the jumbo-tron asking inane questions like
"How far did you come to see Your Dallas Cowboys!?" Giggling fools
vied for their 15 minutes of fame without realization that the Alamo
Dome live feed system, without its connection to the national media,
is just a supped up version of the camera and monitor at your local
convenience store. Coaches experienced difficulty being heard within
the very huddles they stood, while Rich, on amplified systems, implored
the crowd to "Give a nice hand for our sponsors!" Rowdy ranged up
and down the isles trying to get morons to start a wave.
The football team appeared to be the last thing on many minds. Fluff
trumped function. Hype drowned out preparation. The marketing "geniuses"
ruled the arena. Mr. Jones was too busy preparing for his close-ups
and brushing up on his "concerned and sincere" dialogue as some
poor joker was selected for the first cut on HBO's Hard Knocks series.
Poor Dave Campo was fighting out of his weight and it showed.
With all this in mind, our crew rolled into San Antonio to witness
Camp Parcels. Would it be form over function once again? How far
had Bill sold his soul? The media, especially ESPN, gleefully speculated
various scenarios of doom. I was anxious to see if there would be
any changes.
What a difference a year makes. No loud music tracks. No highlight
video packages of lost glory. Even better, no Rowdy or Rich. The
Alamo Dome was quiet and focused.
The jumbo-tron showed plays and drills, not Jerrys or Bills. The
crowd was a little smaller than last season. But those fans in attendance
were paying attention to the work on the field. We clapped and cheered,
booed and jeered as the team walked through various situations;
many of which amused and confused the fans.
In one drill, the team was trying to practice "Holding a lead" and
in this situation, a receiver was performing a fly route down the
right sidelines. The QB's job was to throw it long and out of bounds.
Many in the crowd assumed the QBs couldn't hit the side of a barn
standing next to it. Parcels didn't even acknowledge the crowd reaction.
He could have. The stadium was so quiet, I could hear him addressing
the team 40 yards away. Every word drifted in the cool still air
to eager ears. Coach Parcels has the team's attention, and that
of the fans.
The practices I saw were crisp. The admonishment to "hustle" rarely
was needed. As the day progressed, Parcels would walk behind and
around the drills, watching this player's techniques, moving to
a different spot and hawking another man trying his best to make
an impression.
Antonio Bryant made a positive impression. In the Saturday morning
drills, the receivers were doing short slants and cuts in the end
zone. The QB was zipping hard rockets as the receiver came out of
the breaks. Bryant somehow damaged his little finger. I spied the
trainers examining and then taping him up to go back in. Still,
even taped up, if the ball hit his hand wrong for the rest of the
day, it appeared to stun the hand and Bryant could not make the
catch.
Come Sunday morning practice, Bryant wasn't there. I was curious
what was happening because he was not even on the sidelines running
against the bungies, like I have seen other injured players do.
He was flat out missing that morning. He did return for the Sunday
afternoon session, having traveled to Dallas for some light surgery.
It is always light surgery if it happens to someone else. He had
some chips removed from the finger joints. Chips that may not have
been there just a few days ago. By returning to practice and showing
very little trouble catching the ball, Bryant gave Parcels a standard
to apply to the rest of the team.
Another note about Bryant, in the Saturday and Sunday practices,
Terry Glenn and Joey Galloway continually lined up on the same side
of the field for drills. The Sunday morning practice did not see
either guy moving over to the temporarily vacant slot of Bryant's.
Galloway and Glenn stayed on the same side.
There are many dramatic changes from previous camps. Parcels holds
a 30-minute press conference every day and the local media are rolling
over like love-puppies trying to get their bellies scratched. I
was concerned that the Evil Ego might not be able to stand sharing
the spotlight. I waited for something stupid to happen. Nothing
so far. I am actually starting to believe some of Mr. Jones' statements.
He said that bringing in Bill Parcels was a departure of "how things
are done" as much as the sweeping changes brought about when Mr.
Jones and Coach Johnson replaced the icons Tom Landry and Tex Schramm.
In the closest any man has come to saying he screwed up without
using those exact words, Mr. Jones admitted making mistakes and
vowed to take care of this new relationship (Parcels and Jones).
So far, he looks to be good as his word. The practices go on without
commercials and tributes to the past. A stead calm focus on what
can be accomplished today replaces the marketing hype. That is a
sure sign things have changed.
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