Monday, November 25, 2013

Okay, if the Cowboys could not mess this up...again.

Ramblings Post #243
Sport teaches a lot of things. Young people learn teamwork, as well as the ability to play your position and not try to be the hero. It teaches us that training and dedication are necessary evils. It teaches us that sometimes one little thing can change a the ultimate outcome. But most importantly, it teaches us that time moves on, that we put our failures behind us, and get ready for whatever happens next. 

For the past few seasons, the NFC East championship has come to the the Dallas Cowboys versus somebody. And by versus I mean the a game of the season who wants it more affair. And for the past few seasons my beloved Cowboys have come up short.

And this season is looking no better.

The Cowboys of late, the last few years really, have developed a habit of playing to the level of their competition. I don't know if it's the attitude or the training, but the level of ability seems to rise and fall as a needed (when it doesn't just evaporate). They played the "on pace to set records" Broncos to a standstill until the last two minutes. They just lost to the Chiefs. But then turnaround and played down to the level of the hapless Vikings to scrape out a win. Then this week, after dominating the Giants for the first half, actually three quarters, needed a drive in the fourth quarter to win the game.

It pains me to think that it will be a tight game against Oakland.

This is ridiculous. I'm just saddened that Jerry Jones's ego has doomed my team for the last two decades. Yes, because you better believe that he's still mad that everyone credits the last Cowboy Superbowl victories to Jimmy Johnson (this would include the Barry Switzer one, because that was all Jimmy momentum). He has to prove that he did it. With his hand picked coach. With his draft picks. In his stadium.

The Cowboys need a consistent running game. A better offensive line. And a defense. Man do they need a defense. When they built the new stadium the grass must have come from the Bermuda Triangle, because defenders keep disappearing.

All I want is for the Cowboys to make the playoffs and win one game. End the Romo hate. Or at least dampen it down a bit.

Barkeep, you know what I want. From the private Cowboy Nation stock.

Friday, November 22, 2013

Odd Quotes

 “The most basic and powerful way to connect to another person is to listen. Just listen. Perhaps the most important thing we ever give each other is our attention...A loving silence often has far more power to heal and to connect than the most well-intentioned words.”
~ Rachel Naomi Remen

Monday, November 11, 2013

There was NOT supposed to be a round three....

It was supposed to be a first round knockout.

But you missed a punch somewhere, and the bell rang and they were still standing. You knew when it
happened, you could feel it, the absence of pressure in your arm from failing to connect, the glove connection missing, but you'd pressed on because this is what you'd trained for. You were supposed to get that little sensation again and again, over and over to let you know you were on the right track. But you knew you'd missed and hoped for the best, pressed on because one punch isn't supposed to count. But sometimes it does. So you put that behind you, and started the again.

The bell ending the second round caught you by surprise.

That round you'd felt more confident, the punches flowing from your arm as natural as breathing, the  power of muscles crackling along your sinews. It was supposed to be over now. You knew this stuff or at least thought you did. The punches had landed you were certain. You whole body tensed as you let each one go, uncoiling with power and follow through. Brain cells fired, muscle, motion, speed, contact. You could sense the idea of victory with each passing second.

Now, suddenly,  you can taste blood in your mouth that you hadn't before. You realize the punches you thought you had ducked must have landed, caught the corner, nicked you, stunned you. And maybe you didn't even realize it. Maybe you'd gone down and hadn't felt it. Why hadn't the jabs worked? The left and the right must have been too slow. You take a second to run your tongue along your teeth and confirm that they're all still there and not loose. The buzz in your ear, the crowd, sounds different, as if they've lost faith in one they once imagined could be a contender. There is a sudden stabbing pain in your ribs as the adrenaline you've been living off fades into nothing, and all you've got left is the burning need of your success and the fortitude to keep going. 

This round wasn't supposed to be here.

No matter.

You keep punching. You will win.