A home for those who love almost everything about The Ticket (1310 AM, 96.7 FM, Dallas-Fort Worth), and who would like to discuss -- respectfully and fondly -- their thoughts on how (and whether) to eliminate the "almost."
Out driving around today. Hit The Ticket,
expecting to hear SMU football with great play-by-play by Rich Phillips.
Nope, must have been halftime.
Wandered the dial and stumbled on a show on KESN (ESPN) that kept me tuned in
for the next hour or so.
Not just "a show"; they call it "The Show." Pretty
aggressive (and unimaginative) title, but it was good, kept me listening with
approximate Ticket-attentiveness.
It featured Matt McClearin (formerly paired with Scot Harrison Sundays on the
The Ticket (MaSS) before the two of them decamped to Birmingham for 3.5 years
(WJOX)) and DJ Ringgenberg. They talked college football and Cowboys.
Matt the good cop, DJ the bad cop. In a show where McClearin is the
mature older presence, you know you're going to hear some snottiness, but I
liked it for all that. Ringgenberg's contempt for the Nebraska
Cornhuskers was amusing after their shellacking by Iowa yesterday.
(Ringgenberg's an Iowa grad.)
I see on Ringgenberg's LinkedIn page that he also interned for Norm from June
through August 2012. After describing his duties, he notes: "I
also prepared excellent coffee to the exact specifications of Mr. Hitzges on a
daily basis.”
A highlight of the show was an interview with Charean
Williams. She was excellent, damned hard-core sportsy talk and no
cutesy. The Ticket could use a sports-media call-in expert like that;
heck, could use a host like that. Would love to hear her on with the
'Line. She was with the Fort Worth Star-Telegram since 1999, laid off
last May. Cat should give her a call, she sounds like she'd be
worth shuffling for. Jeez, he's Ops Director for the station, he may have
programmed her. Move her on over, Jeff.
You guys may already know about The Show and Ringgenberg and Williams, but they
were new to me, probably because I'm mostly Ticket-centric. Anyway, a
meaty listen and thought I'd pass it along.
Did get to hear Rich Phillips's thrilling call of the final play of the
SMU-Tulane game. Of course, most of Rich's calls are thrilling.
"I don't care f_____-all about what bag of Jones DNA operates the Dallas Cowboys, but don't you dare touch that cute ginger football team manager man."
I believe I wrote a week or so back that I wanted to hear Our Man Monte and Travis Mejia do a weekend show. If I'm hearing things correctly, I believe I'm getting my wish this fine Central Standard Sunday ("Mon-T&T," they're calling it).
Sounds good so far.
LATER: I guess I missed a "T" -- there's a third host, one Tim with an Eastern European last name I'm not catching and not finding online -- Krajewski, maybe? The only one I can find. Pretty good show, good sound. Not sure about three voices on a Sunday morning. Not sure. But liking it OK. Monte in charge, that's a good.
Also, that last redhead was only up for a couple of hours before I put up that archived post, so here she is again.
This will be the third time I've run this piece. Sorry if you remember it from 2013 or 2015. Of the hundreds of articles I've composed, I think this one was the most fun on my end. Suffice it to say it did not gain any traction, or really much notice, on either occasion but it makes me smile to think about it so I'm going to flog the long-suffering Confessor one more time with it, as George's recent oration has brought its topic to the forefront in a way we haven't seen in these parts for awhile.
I have updated it in only two respects: (1) I have linked to the video of the Monty Python Brontosaurus Theory sketch, which has nothing whatever to do with this topic and which you may usefully skip, and (2) I've noted one additional fact in support, which appears in brackets.
My analysis of Cowboys mediocrity is somewhat out of date, but was laser-accurate and MTC-hot as of 2013.
I hope you enjoy it (again, for those of you who have been with me for awhile). Feel free to share on the electric computer system of the world of Social Mediums.
And Thank You for Shopping at My Ticket Confession.
The Time Has Come to Reveal My
Far-Fetched but Deeply-Held Belief on Solving the Problem of Perpetual
Cowboys Mediocrity; or, The Brontosaurus Theory
Confessors,
with a title like that, I deem that you have been given fair warning
that this is one of those blessedly rare Plainsman sportsy posts,
wherein I demonstrate rather small knowledge about sports. I suppose
that's what comes of listening to The Ticket.
But,
in honor of the entrepreneurial spirit embodied in Danny Balis (there's
your Ticket connection for this post), let me ask you to put aside
preconceived notions and use your imagination. You can probably come up
with some variations of what follows that may make more sense.
The
conventional wisdom – and this view is held not only by me and many of
you, but by an acquaintance of mine who might in fact be the No. 1
Cowboys fan in DFW, I kid you not – is that the Cowboys will not return
to greatness as long as they are owned by Jerry Jones. That the Cowboys
will, in fact, get worse as his ego continues to eat away at judgment
with the passing years. Because Jerry Jones will not give up control as
he struggles to cast off the shadow Jimmy and win a title for which he
can claim principal credit. And because Jerry Jones will not sell the
Cowboys, their averageness-or-worse will soil that beastly stadium out
there for years to come.
I grant that this is a very likely scenario. But it is not the only possible scenario. Let me toss out a few concepts.
Jerry Is a Very, Very Bad General Manager and Owner. I
won't spend much time on this, we all know it. His latest
machinations, castrating Jason Garrett, loading up the coaching staff
with people he selects, is a recipe for failure. It is widely accepted
that 2013 is make-or-break for Garrett – but what earthly sense does it
make to (1) reduce his responsibility for the offense and (2) stick him
with personnel not of his choosing and then to increase his
accountability? I happen to think Garrett bears a large share of the
blame for fielding offenses that apparently don't know the plays after
two-plus years and that can't get them called before a half-second
remains on the play clock. Maybe Jerry has selected players of
incorrigible stupidity, but more likely is that they're not prepared, or
the plays require calls that are not appropriate for the hurly-burly of
the gridiron, or Tony doesn't transmit the playcalls efficiently. But
if that's the way you as GM feel about the guy, fire him, don't play
games for another season that do nothing more than establish the head
coach's lack of authority and your own poor judgment, begging yet the
further question: What accomplished, self-respecting coach would play
for the meddlesome savant-wannabe caricature that is Jerry Jones?
And
he's a bad owner because he refuses to hire experienced professional
football management, or listen to the people in his organization who fit
that description.
Since we all pretty much believe that Jerry is incompetent, why do I even bother to mention it? Because:
Jerry Jones Is SoIncompetent,
That in the Process of Manufacturing Year After Year of Mediocrity and
Worse, Jerry Jones Is Also Managing to Embarrass Texas in General, and,
in Particular, the Wealthy of Texas. Jones is pathologically
incapable of keeping his piehole zipped. And in its unzipped state, it
emits torrents of disconnected phrases, 180-degree contradictions within
a single breath, and downright nonsense. It would be tolerable and
possibly even charming if he'd shown a molecule of talent for running a
football team, but since he hasn't, he looks like the kind of Texan,
especially the kind of rich Texan, that non-Texans like to sneer at –
ignorant, arrogant, incoherent. (Although he was born in Los Angeles and
raised in Arkansas.) The kind who thinks it's classy to hang the
world's biggest video screen in his stadium, so big it renders the live
contest irrelevant, and to feature caged go-go dancers. You can't tell
me that his pals in whatever the Rich Guy Club is in these parts (um, I
don't belong) don't cringe when they see his latest high-wire act before
any nearby open mic and hear everyone, even media types who might be
expected to curry his favor, shaking their heads in disbelief that this
well-meaning but thoroughly deluded soul is helming the destruction of
the most valuable sports franchise in the country.
There Are Lots of Really, Really Rich People in Texas. And
when you put a few of them together, a billion here, a billion there,
pretty soon you're talking about real money. And maybe they'd rather
people think of them more like J.R. Ewing, and not J.W. Jones.
Everything Has Its Price.
Including Jerry.
Ah, but you say, Jerry does not have
his price. His pride would never let him sell the team while it's
down, before it does something really terrific, at least get to a Super
Bowl if not win it.
I
agree that Jerry will never accept market value for the team, however
that may be measured (although every year there are organizations
purporting to do it, including one that reported today).
So
the first step is for a bunch of these rich guys who have had enough
losing and ridicule to get together and offer Jerry crazy money. I
don't know how crazy it would have to be to let Jerry claim that as
his ultimate victory. Maybe he wouldn't take it. Maybe the crazy
money would have to be so crazy that not even a consortium of the
extremely wealthy would consider offering it. I would, however, ask you
to remember the difference between the price Nolan Ryan's group agreed
to pay for the Rangers at the outset, and what they eventually paid
after Mark Cuban got the bidding way up there.
Then what?
Creativity.
Find
some way to let Jerry save face. Make him Chairman Emeritus. Name the
stadium after him and pay him for the right to use his name. A
permanent suite at the stadium. (With parking!) Perhaps work something
where he keeps the stadium or some piece of it. There are all kinds of
ways to compensate selling business owners. Insist that they pay him
personally millions not to take his incomparable football management
skills to any other NFL team. Give him a consulting deal and actually
have meetings and let him have his say.
OK, let's say that none of this moves the old Razorback.
There's always:
Leverage.
How do you get leverage over an ego?
Include Stephen and Jerry Jr. in the Consortium. Is
Stephen Jones the Prince Charles of DFW or what? Waiting for His
Majesty to abdicate or die. Perhaps it would be meaningful to Jerry (in
addition to the crazy money, let's not forget) to know that his beloved
offspring would have some kind of management and ownership role, and
that he'd still have his son's ear on matters Cowboys, even if he would
have no authority. I can imagine that the boys (!) would have some
reluctance to show up with a group offering to buy the team – I'm sure
they love and feel loyalty toward their Pop and might fear a family
falling-out if appearing to want to oust him. Still, there may be
creative ways to involve them in a subtle and diplomatic approach that
would not offend Jerry.
The Brontosaurus Theory. But
here's my gee-whiz solution, and I'm sure that there are NFL-savvy
readers out there who will tell me that this could never, ever happen in
a squillion years.
But,
like Anne Elk (John Cleese) who offers her theory on the brontosaurus on Monty Python's Flying Circus, this is my theory, and it
is mine, and belongs to me, and what it is, too. The next thing you
will read is my theory:
This
rich-guy consortium goes to Jerry – again, with their crazy money,
maybe really crazy in light of this (my) theory and the thinking they
want to inspire in Jerry, and they say this:
Jerry,
we have crazy money for you. You know as sure as you're sitting there
that this is easily a 30% premium over the highest valuation that any
so-called expert places on this team. You take that and walk away and
you can hold your head high, laughing at your critics, knowing that win
or lose, you, by the sheer force of your personality and will and balls
in getting that stadium built, and, yes, winning three Super Bowls,
created immense, incredible value, made this the second most valuable
franchise in the world, second only to Manchester United. Incredible
accomplishment, Jerry.
You take
this crazy money, Jerry. You take it. We'll put your name on that
stadium. Take a look at this term sheet, there's a bunch of other
goodies in there, and looky here, Jerry, we're going to give Stephen and
Jerry Jr. and Charlotte the opportunity to invest at a very high level and give them
significant management responsibility. You can be Chairman Emeritus.
Take
this crazy money, Jerry, and all the rest, because if you don't take
this crazy money, we're going to keep an appointment that we made some
months ago with Roger Goodell to discuss with him our strong commitment
to putting an NFL team in Fort Worth, Texas. As you can see, it will
be hugely well-financed, with a stadium – oh, Jerry, it will not be a
stadium like yours – it will be a big stadium, for sure, but it will be
one that people will love, a real Texas stadium, like Fort Worth is a
real Texas city, like people love the Ballpark at Arlington, like people
love Sundance Square that was also bought with crazy Fort Worth money.
In fact, that stadium, it'll be
right near downtown -- those city fathers know how to work with
businessmen. Maybe we'll swipe Jacksonville or some other lame
franchise – maybe we'll argue for expansion. And Roger Goodell will
listen, and all the other owners we've made appointments with will
listen, because Texas is a football state, and DFW is a gigantic market
with lots and lots of people who have given up their Cowboy season
tickets and lost all faith in you, and because major and lesser markets
have fielded two NFL teams at once: New York, Bay Area. [And since this was written, Los Angeles.] Crazy money,
Jerry. You
think your fellow owners would never allow it? Think again. Crazy.
And when we get that franchise -- don't you doubt us, Jerry, you know
who we are -- we are going to treat our fans like royalty and we're
going to get the best football people in the country and we're going to
have a fracking party every week over in crazy Fort
Worth over this team we're going to put together, Jerry. Ground floor
fans who don't give a bag of dirt about what your franchise did 20 years
ago. And we'll grab your fans, we'll grab your concession dollars,
we'll grab your capital appreciation, we'll grab all of it and we will
keep grabbing. Because that is how we got this crazy money in the first place. It won't be hard. Crazy money, Jerry. We got it. We can get more.
Because we're winners.
Sign here.
* * *
A bit melodramatic, perhaps. And with a number of strategic difficulties. But God, that was fun.
Here's
my point – we shouldn't assume that no circumstances exist under which
Jerry would consider selling the team. You won't know until you
try. Until you try, and let it leak that you're trying. And I'm
serious about a Fort Worth team.
So
here's the plan, Confessors. Send the link to this post to all of your
billionaire friends. Let's see, do I know any billionaires, let me
think . . .
