The Indianapolis Colts will be inducting legendary defensive end Robert Mathis into the team’s Ring of Honor during the 2020 regular season, the team announced Monday.
Mathis will be inducted on Nov. 22 during halftime of the Week 10 home game against the Green Bay Packers at Lucas Oil Stadium.
In honor of the all-time rushing champ’s birthday, we take a look back at 10 games that defined Emmitt Smith’s Hall of Fame career.
Emmitt Smith celebrates his 51st birthday on Friday. Born in Pensacola, Florida, the son of Mary J. Smith and Emmitt James Smith Jr. attended Escambia High School. A prolific runner from an early age, Smith won a state football championship there before accepting a scholarship to the University of Florida. He played three years for the Gators and finished seventh for the Heisman Trophy as a junior before declaring for the 1990 NFL Draft and joining the Dallas Cowboys.
His record-setting career coincides with one of the most integral chapters in the franchise’s rich history, and Smith, in turn, is one of the club’s most decorated icons and beloved stars.
To commemorate Emmitt’s big day, Cowboys Wire has selected the ten games of Smith’s tenure with the team that best tell the story of No. 22.
1. October 7, 1990: Emmitt’s first 100-yard game
Emmitt Smith’s career as a Cowboy got a little stuck coming out of the gate. In Week 1 of 1990, the rookie logged exactly two yards on two carries in a home win over the San Diego Chargers. A week later, 11 yards on six attempts. Smith’s frustration on the sidelines was evident.
But then again, the Cowboys hadn’t even really wanted Smith to begin with. In April’s draft, Dallas had been eyeing Baylor linebacker James Francis. The Bengals got him instead. Their Plan B was Houston linebacker Lamar Lathon. The front office tried to do a deal with the Oilers to move up for him, but Houston declined… and took Lathon for themselves. The Cowboys settled for the running back from Florida they thought was too small and too slow to truly be an effective pro rusher.
But Smith knew he’d be a superstar; the famed to-do list he once wrote announcing his goal of eventually being the all-time rushing champ was proof. And one by one, he was convincing his new Dallas teammates, too.
Offensive guard Crawford Ker had been Smith’s roommate in the early days.
“I told everyone that I was sharing a room with the man who would make Cowboy fans forget about Tony Dorsett,” Ker once said. “Emmitt just wanted a chance to play and show what he could do.”
That chance came in Week 5 against Tampa Bay. Finally getting a clear-cut lion’s share of the carries over Tommie Agee and Alonzo Highsmith, Smith was a one-man wrecking ball. He rolled up 121 yards on 23 attempts, and while the tape of his first pro touchdown shows quintessential Emmitt, it’s a 16-yard run with three minutes left in regulation that’s worth finding on YouTube. A mix of quick jukes, off-balance jump cuts, and pure power once he hits his stride, it’s the run that gave Smith his first 100-yard outing… and gave the rest of the league a taste of what was to come.
The Cowboys’ 14-10 win that day kickstarted Smith’s rookie campaign in earnest, a season that ended with a Pro Bowl nod and Offensive Rookie of the Year honors.
April 11 marks the anniversary of the demolition of Texas Stadium, home of the Dallas Cowboys and the most famous hole in a roof in history.
The skies over the Dallas-Fort Worth Metroplex were streaked with gray on April 11, 2010. Tens of thousands of football fans tailgated and partied in parking lots surrounding Texas Stadium in Irving. It had become a familiar scene for many a Sunday at the home of the Dallas Cowboys.
But this Sunday at Texas Stadium would be markedly different. For almost four decades, the greatest players in the sport brought the house down with their passing, their running, their catching, their tackling. On this day, however, an 11-year-old boy who had won an essay contest would be the one to bring the house down, with the push of a button and nearly three thousand pounds of dynamite.
It’s been ten years since the iconic Texas Stadium was imploded. The team moved into their swanky new digs at Cowboys Stadium in Arlington in 2009, the previous fall. Their previous home in Irving had long since fallen into disrepair and sat empty in the spring of 2010, save for the 380,000 cubic feet of dirt that had been trucked in, 40 feet deep throughout the building, to safely dampen the planned explosion.
But in true Cowboys fashion, the team squeezed everything they could out of the old place, right up to the end. Seats, star-shaped signs, squares of turf, even the blue painted end zones had all been sold off as memorabilia. Cameras mounted inside the stadium would capture footage of the blast, to later be doled out to TV shows and movies that needed generic footage of a big building going boom. A team of seismologists had been allowed to place technical equipment inside to improve maps of the area’s underground geology.
Former Cowboys players came to say goodbye in person. There was a VIP viewing section. Local television stations broadcast the implosion live. There was a fireworks show before the grand finale. ESPN’s Chris Berman flew in to emcee the festivities.
Heck, the entire demolition was a sponsored event. Kraft Foods paid a hefty promotional fee to call it the “Cheddar Explosion” as part of a marketing gimmick to push macaroni and cheese.
And those thousands of fans who showed up in the pre-dawn hours on a Sunday morning to watch from a long distance as Texas Stadium got blown up? They paid $25 per car for the privilege.
The money went to charity, but still. There may not be a more Dallas Cowboys thing ever.
A place of their own
The Cowboys’ first home was the Cotton Bowl, located on the grounds of the State Fair of Texas. The grand stadium, site of the annual collegiate game of the same name, was already 30 years old when Clint Murchison’s expansion team came into existence. The NFL’s Dallas experiment took off quickly; in their seventh season, the Cowboys hosted Green Bay for the NFL Championship Game on New Year’s Day, 1967.
The Cotton Bowl crowd saw their home team come up short that day, just missing a trip to the first NFL-AFL championship. The team had generated almost 60% of the stadium’s total receipts that year, and within days of that loss to Vince Lombardi’s Packers (who would go on to win what would be retroactively called Super Bowl I), the Cowboys owner unveiled plans for a new futuristic arena that would be unlike anything else in the league.
With a seating capacity of over 75,000, the Cotton Bowl was actually too big for the Cowboys back in those days. The club never sold more than 31,000 season tickets there. Home games rarely sold out, and fans could always count on buying a walk-up ticket on gameday.
This year marks 9️⃣0️⃣ years of events held at Cotton Bowl Stadium. 🙌
Stay tuned throughout 2020 as we highlight 90 of the greatest who have stepped foot in the historic Cotton Bowl.
Murchison knew a smaller stadium would create more demand for seats. But Dallas’s civic leaders were not about to build Murchison a new downtown stadium, not when they deemed the historic Cotton Bowl perfectly usable. So the owner looked outside the city limits, to Irving. Ten miles west of the fairgrounds sat a 90-acre teardrop-shaped plot of land bordered on all sides by freeway. The nondescript highway interchange would become the new home of the Dallas Cowboys… and, in many ways, the sport’s first modern Mecca.
“It will be the finest football stadium to date in the world,” Murchison boasted.
While Murchison’s new stadium would seat fewer fans than the cavernous Cotton Bowl, he intended to go big in other areas, loading up his proposed facility with updates and innovations to ensure that the Cowboys would be the hottest ticket in town. Murchison imagined a venue with a computerized scoreboard that could display messages and animation in lights, aluminum-backed grandstand seats, bigger and plusher locker rooms, more restrooms and drinking fountains and concession stands, new grass, air conditioning, and even a retractable roof that could enclose the stadium entirely when weather was poor. It was, at the time, a radical fantasy akin to flying cars.
A few of Murchison’s notions, though, quickly ushered in a brand new era of unprecedented and exponential profit for team owners.
When plans were announced for the new stadium, Murchison also revealed an initiative to finance the facility through a bond-option system. Season-ticket buyers would be required to purchase up-front bonds of $250, $500, or $1,000, depending on where they wanted to sit, on top of the price of their actual game tickets. The bonds merely secured the rights to buy tickets. It was the birth of the personal seat license, now a common pricing tactic.
Murchison was also the first to make the luxury suite a mainstay of professional sports stadiums. Houston’s Astrodome, which had opened in 1965 and been nicknamed the “Eighth Wonder of the World,” had 53 self-contained skyboxes. The Cowboys’ new stadium would open with an entire upper-ring level of 176 private boxes called Circle Suites.
By June of 1969, the club had sold 16,000 $250 bonds and 60 of the inner-circle boxes at $50,000 apiece. The first home game was still over two years away.
Home sweet home… with a hole in the roof
Construction began in January of 1969, with Murchison, general manager Tex Schramm, coach Tom Landry, quarterback Don Meredith, and the mayor of Irving donning hard hats and turning the first ceremonial shovels. Murchison’s own construction company, the Tecon Corporation, received the nearly $18 million bid to build what would be called Texas Stadium.
By the time the building actually opened in 1971, the seating capacity had increased from 55,000 to 65,000, thanks to increased fan interest. And many of those fans ready to start taking in live games were of a decidedly different ilk than the Cotton Bowl’s clientele, thanks to the team’s marketing and selling of those Circle Suites.
Each suite had two rows of comfortable seating, three TVs with instant replay capability, and a wet bar. Occupants were allowed- no, encouraged- to decorate their suites according to their own personal tastes, and each suite seemed to be more opulent than the one next door. Marble floors. Animal print rugs. French antique furniture. Crystal chandeliers. For better or worse, pro football in Dallas soon became a high-society gala every single Sunday. And the venue’s new “business class” fans enjoyed a vantage point that was far removed from the blood and guts being spilled on the field below.
Players of the time likened Texas Stadium to the Roman Colosseum. Meredith, one of those early gladiators, noted the extreme juxtaposition inside the arena, which “some people describe as the finest facility in football and others call a vulgar display of wealth,” he said.
Some of the stadium’s other quirks rubbed players the wrong way in a more literal sense. The artificial playing surface, called Tartan Turf, was notoriously hard and slick. And razor-sharp.
“I don’t know what kind of turf it was,” running back Walt Garrison once joked, “but if you slid, it cut the hell out of you. It was harder than Chinese arithmetic.”
Like most fields, the one Murchison had constructed wasn’t perfectly flat, to aid in drainage. But the midfield crown was so steep that players on one sideline could barely see their opponents on the other side. One opposing team’s kicker said, “When you’re kicking, you’re uphill one way and downhill the other… There’s nothing good about it.”
But for all the (mostly) no-expense spared accommodations, Texas Stadium’s most notable feature was always the two and a half acre hole smack in the middle of the roof.
View from inside Texas Stadium, home of the Dallas Cowboys from 1971-2008.
Murchison abandoned plans to enclose and air-condition the entire stadium early on. Some say the full dome with retractable roof that he wanted proved to be too heavy for the structure to support. Other suggest the technology to build it was simply cost-prohibitive. The partial roof Murchison settled on covered all the stands, sheltering and shading spectators, but left the playing surface exposed to the elements.
The partial roof wreaked havoc with shadows across the playing surface. Thanks to the orientation of the field, one sideline was blasted by the full brunt of the Texas afternoon sun while the other- the one the Cowboys occupied- was comfortably shaded. The harsh contrast between bright light and pitch dark drove TV camera crews crazy. Fans could tell instantly upon tuning in if the Cowboys were playing at home, thanks to the Texas-sized open-air skylight overhead.
It was an architectural feature that would forever define Texas Stadium. Detractors dubbed the only-partly-enclosed stadium “The Half-Astrodome.” But the legendary explanation often attributed to Dallas linebacker D.D. Lewis was the one that stuck for Cowboys fans. The hole in the roof, Lewis supposedly claimed, was so that could watch His favorite team play.
Best of times, worst of times
For the next 38 seasons, The Almighty got a mighty spectacular show, as a host of football memories (some magnificent, some painful) played out under the famous hole in the roof.
The first game at Texas Stadium ended in a 44-21 Cowboys win over New England in Week 6 of the 1971 season. Running back Duane Thomas scored the first points in the new place, a 56-yard touchdown run just two minutes after the opening kick on October 24, 1971.
The Cowboys won the first postseason game ever played at Texas Stadium in the venue’s inaugural year. With a 14-3 win over the 49ers here, Dallas won their second straight NFC title; they would claim their first Super Bowl two weeks later.
Clint Longley, a backup quarterback nicknamed “The Mad Bomber” (for his habit of bouncing passes off Coach Landry’s coaching tower in training camp) became the hero of the 1974 Thanksgiving Day game here. Coming on in relief of a concussed Roger Staubach, Longley chucked a 50-yard scoring pass to Drew Pearson with 35 seconds left to beat Washington.
Defensive end Bob Lilly, the first draft pick in team history, was the first Cowboy inducted into the stadium’s Ring of Honor here in 1975, his name installed permanently in large lettering on the stadium walls. Devised by Tex Schramm, the Ring of Honor was a novel way to honor iconic players without retiring their uniform number. It remains the greatest honor for a Dallas Cowboy, with just 22 men enshrined. The concept has since been copied by several other teams around the league.
Staubach’s final win came here, a fourth-quarter comeback- naturally- in which he threw two touchdown passes in the final four minutes to beat Washington in the 1979 season finale. Staubach called it “absolutely the most thrilling sixty minutes I ever spent on a football field.”
Today in 1979, Roger Staubach played his last regular season game with the Cowboys.
After trailing Washington 34-21 with 3 minutes left in game, “Captain America” led the Dallas comeback & won the game 35-34 to win the NFC East & knock the Redskins out of the playoffs. pic.twitter.com/NVzYtgsQ1c
Cowboys kicker Luis Zendejas suffered a brutal hit here in 1989, allegedly at the direction of Eagles coach Buddy Ryan. Ryan had reportedly offered a cash reward for any Philadelphia player who knocked Zendejas or Troy Aikman out of the game that later became known as The Bounty Bowl.
Landry returned here in 1993 when he was inducted in the Ring of Honor. It was the coach’s first time back in the stadium since being fired after the 1988 season. He pushed for Murchison and Schramm to be inducted alongside him, but was denied. Landry would only set foot inside the building one more time before his passing in 2000.
Leon Lett muffed a blocked Dolphins field goal here in the waning moments of 1993’s Thanksgiving Day loss, a game where a freak winter storm had blanketed the Texas Stadium turf in snow.
Jason Garrett had his “fairy tale” moment here as a third-string quarterback on Thanksgiving Day 1994. With Troy Aikman and Rodney Peete sidelined by injury, Garrett got the start against Brett Favre and Green Bay. His first pass was intercepted. But in the second half, Garrett led the Cowboys to five straight touchdown drives.
Terrell Owens disrespected the midfield star here as a member of the San Francisco 49ers in 2000. Cowboys safety George Teague retaliated by leveling the wide receiver as Owens posed for TV cameras in a post-touchdown celebration.
Emmitt Smith broke Walter Payton’s all-time rushing record here in 2002. His 11-yard rumble in the fourth quarter of a loss to Seattle was the culmination of a personal goal he had written down for himself even before being drafted by Dallas in 1990.
Aikman, Smith, and Michael Irvin entered the Ring of Honor together here in 2005. But the Triplets couldn’t help Bill Parcells’s squad preserve a shutout over Washington; two shocking touchdown catches by Santana Moss in the last four minutes gave the Redskins their first win at Texas Stadium in a decade.
An undrafted free agent named Tony Romo made his NFL debut here on a Monday night in 2006. After Drew Bledsoe tossed an interception just before halftime, Parcells made a switch at quarterback. Romo’s first pass was picked off and Dallas lost the game, but Romo kept the starting job, winning six of his ten starts that season.
The Baltimore Ravens ruined the stadium’s going-away party here on December 20, 2008. In the final game played at Texas Stadium, a Romo-led rally fell short when the Cowboys defense gave up an 82-yard touchdown run late in the fourth quarter. The last touchdown in the stadium was also the longest scoring run Dallas had ever allowed in the building.
From 1971 through the farewell season of 2008, the Cowboys played 313 regular-season and playoff games at Texas Stadium. They went 213-100 overall, an impressive .681 winning percentage.
More than a game
Although Texas Stadium was built to be the home of the Cowboys, it served other purposes, too. High school and college teams from around the state got plenty of use out of the venue over the years; SMU called the arena home from 1979 through 1986. The NFL even staged the 1973 Pro Bowl there.
But the building housed more than football games. Large crowds were drawn to Texas Stadium for other sporting events as well, including soccer, bull riding, lacrosse, and professional wrestling.
The very first event at the facility, in fact, was a good old-fashioned church revival. The Greater Southwest Billy Graham Crusade served as a ten-day christening of the stadium in September 1971, with Johnny and June Cash, former president Lyndon Johnson, and Coach Landry all in attendance. Over 450,000 people came.
The lots around the stadium were used occasionally as a drive-in movie theater during the offseason.
Texas Stadium made cameo appearances in many film and television productions. Walker, Texas Ranger shot scenes at the stadium frequently. Eagle-eyed viewers will also spot the building in the TV series Friday Night Lights and the 1999 feature film Any Given Sunday. Most famously, the stadium appeared in the opening credits of the primetime soap opera Dallas for its entire thirteen-season run on CBS.
Several major musical acts played Texas Stadium over its lifespan. The Jacksons, Madonna, Guns N’ Roses, Dave Matthews Band, Shania Twain, and Metallica all played the arena. When Garth Brooks came to Texas Stadium for a 1993 NBC special, special rigging had to be installed over the iconic hole in the roof so that Brooks could perform a stunt where he “flies” over the audience while suspended by a trapeze harness.
Many of those non-traditional events hosted at the stadium in later years came during the ownership of Jerry Jones, who used the place in ways that the previous caretakers could never have imagined. Murchison may have built Texas Stadium with the future in mind, but Jones was intent on actually taking it there.
New ownership, new plans
Jerry Jones had started talking about plans to give Texas Stadium a massive facelift as early as 1994, during the team’s remarkable Super Bowl stretch. Barry Switzer had led the team to another championship as Cowboys coach, and Jones was suddenly eager to take the club’s home stadium to the next level as well. The facility had gotten old, and it no longer seemed a fitting home to the best team in football.
When Jones bought the Cowboys and the Texas Stadium lease in 1989, both were in need of an overhaul. On the night he agreed to the deal, Jones reportedly went to the stadium and lay down on the 50-yard-line. Staring up through the hole in the roof, he started formulating a plan to bring both the team and the stadium back to glory.
It took four seasons to take the team from worst to first. The building they played in would prove to be a much harder task.
Jones envisioned an entertainment-and-office complex surrounding the stadium, to which he would add expanded seating to accommodate 100,000-plus and even finally install a retractable roof over the signature hole. The ultimate hope was for Dallas to host a Super Bowl of its own; this $350 million renovation would make it happen.
But changes to Texas Stadium had started almost immediately after Jones purchased the team and facility back in 1989. Vacant luxury boxes were leased, turning a quick $18 million profit. Corporate advertising appeared around the venue for the first time, something Schramm had considered “beneath” the franchise. Jones signed separate sponsorships for the stadium (rather than the team) to avoid having to share that revenue with other clubs. Personal-seat license fees went up. Complimentary season tickets given out to former players, staff, and friends were taken back for resale. Jones persuaded the city council to allow beer and wine sales for the first time. He put up a giant party tent outside the stadium and charged admission to “The Corral” on gameday.
Jones had spent a small fortune on the team. Now he was intent on making a small fortune from their home stadium, in order to spruce it up.
But by 2003, it was clear that those upgrades wouldn’t happen. The no-man’s-land around the stadium had never been developed, and the decision-makers in Irving were unwilling to fund Jones’s pie-in-the-sky ideas. In fact, a study requested by the city council had shown that the Cowboys brought in just $51 million a year in economic benefits to Irving. When fans came to the games, they spent most of their money at the stadium itself or outside the city limits. The Cowboys may have been a crown jewel for Irving, but they weren’t a cash cow. And they certainly weren’t worth an up-front investment of hundreds of millions of dollars.
Jones would look elsewhere to build his palace. Texas Stadium’s days were officially numbered.
Demolition day
And so it came to be that on April 11, 2010, 11-year-old Casey Rogers from the nearby town of Terrell, wearing an oversized hardhat, had his finger poised over the button that would detonate over a ton of explosives and reduce one of professional football’s most iconic structures to rubble.
After the obligatory countdown, the moment arrived with a flashes of bright light from inside the stadium, accompanied by a series of percussive echoes. The ground started to shake, and as a cloud of smoke blossomed out from around the structure, Texas Stadium fell in a carefully choreographed sequence. It took less than 30 seconds from start to finish.
“Awesome!” young Rogers exclaimed. “It was better than I thought it would be.”
But it was a surprisingly dramatic moment for some who had come to view Texas Stadium as more than just a local sports arena.
“It was much more emotional than I expected,” said Pam Seal, a former Dallas Cowboys Cheerleader who had come from Mesquite to bid a final farewell. “I’m so glad that I had my family out there to hold my hand through it. I didn’t think I would be that much of a basket case about it. It was like saying goodbye to an old friend.”
Once the dust from the explosion cleared, a striking image was left: three buttressing pillars were left standing in the debris. In place of the stadium where the legendary Triplets had risen to the top of the football world, only a trio of girders were now left to mark the spot where it had happened.
Today, the oddly-shaped parcel of land bordered by Highway 183 to the south, Loop 12 to the west, and John W. Carpenter Freeway to the east is called the “Diamond Interchange Property.” Over the years, developers have toyed with the idea of building something on the footprint of the old stadium, but nothing has come to fruition. The Texas Department of Transportation uses it now as a staging area for equipment.
Cowboys Stadium became AT&T Stadium in 2013 after a naming rights deal was struck with the telecommunications giant. With its massive video board, art galleries, gleaming architecture, gathering areas for fans, huge seating capacity, and field-level luxury boxes, it is in many regards the next-gen venue Jones had wanted to turn Texas Stadium into.
And the retractable roof that an eager Clint Murchison Jr. had wanted to put over the top of Texas Stadium? The Cowboys finally built one, and they’re now practically standard at new stadiums around the southern portion of the country. It’s been noted by many that when Jones opens the roof at AT&T Stadium, his new palace looks just a bit like old Texas Stadium.
Call it a tip of the ten-gallon hat, perhaps, to one of the great stadiums in American sports history, and an integral piece of Dallas Cowboys history.
“Texas Stadium will never become tarnished, neglected, or dishonored, but always remembered, revered, and respected, a memory that will be cherished, a place forever honored by all of us who were there,” said Alicia Landry, the coach’s widow, during that demolition weekend ten years ago. “It was a special time and a special place, for the team and for the fans, to be a part of our memories forever.”
“There’s no blame. It’s just a matter of, we’ve gone through a little transition here.” It was an understatement bigger than the entire state of Texas, a casual encapsulation so absurd that the room full of jaded sportswriters erupted in shocked, …
“There’s no blame. It’s just a matter of, we’ve gone through a little transition here.”
It was an understatement bigger than the entire state of Texas, a casual encapsulation so absurd that the room full of jaded sportswriters erupted in shocked, stunned, barely-controlled laughter.
The man who had delivered the line took in the reaction, reconsidered the reality of his words, and flashed the smile that had become so prevalent around the Valley Ranch facility, especially over the course of the previous year.
Jimmy Johnson leaned into the mic once again.
“Maybe it’s a big transition.”
Jerry Jones shifted in the chair next to Johnson, the final time the two men would sit next to one another as the owner and head coach of the Dallas Cowboys.
The date was March 29, 1994. The unlikely marriage that had rocked the NFL 1,858 days earlier- and resulted in a matching pair of Lombardi Trophies in the last 423- had just ended.
“We have mutually decided that I would no longer be the head football coach with the Dallas Cowboys,” Johnson had said just moments earlier. From the defending Super Bowl champions, already talking about an unprecedented third straight title, it was a bombshell of an announcement. But for those who had been following the team, it was anything but a surprise.
Cracks before the breakup
Between Jones and Johnson, little things had become big things over five seasons together. Hairline fractures in the foundation had grown. The damages were now irreparable, the differences irreconcilable. And as in most divorces, the writing had been on the wall for some time.
Each side had a laundry list of complaints.
Jerry tried to be too hands-on. He wasn’t truly as involved in the day-to-day football operations as he wanted the world to believe. His fourth-quarter sideline visits had become a distraction. His habit of inviting VIP guests to mingle with players in the locker room and at training camp were counterproductive to getting the team focused on playing football. Jerry insisted on taking far more credit for the team’s turnaround than he deserved. He has too big an ego. After all, Jimmy reasoned, I’m the coach.
Jimmy leaked information to the media. He undermined ownership by unilaterally making personnel and roster decisions. He made a cheap-shot joke on a late-night TV talk show about Jerry pocketing money given to the team by the league for a post-Super Bowl party. He publicly acknowledged being “intrigued” by a possible coach-and-general-manager dual role with the expansion franchise in Jacksonville. Jimmy insisted on not sharing as much credit for the team’s turnaround as was deserved. He has too big an ego. After all, Jerry reasoned, I’m the owner and GM.
But there were other stories, too, transgressions that actually dated back to the early days of the Jones/Johnson regime.
In his book Boys Will Be Boys: The Glory Days and Party Nights of the Dallas Cowboys Dynasty, author Jeff Pearlman writes that Jones had talked about ousting Johnson in just his third season with the club:
“I knew as early as 1991 that I might want to make a change with Jimmy,” Jones said. “My attitude at the time- and I told this to Jimmy- was, ‘You’re doing a good job, but don’t let the door hit you in the ass on the way out.’ There were a couple of times during the 1992 season that he practically invited me to make the change. There were two times when I had to sit him down and tell him that this is how it’s going to be or else.” Well before Jones-versus-Johnson had begun to trickle into the mainstream media, Jones would confer with his family over how little respect he was afforded from his coach. “I’m going to fire his ass,” he’d say. “I can go out and find myself another coach.”
Pearlman also recounts the story of Fletcher Rudisill. Rudisill was a 27-year-old defensive tackle who had been a starter at Hudson Valley Community College. Jones met Rudisill at a bar and personally invited him to participate in 1993’s training camp, sight unseen. Jones was convinced Rudisill was a diamond in the rough. Under Johnson’s watchful eye at camp, though, he “couldn’t jog twenty feet without stopping to vomit” and was cut after two weeks. “This is the guy Jerry sent me,” Johnson explained to reporters with a contempt that was obvious.
It wasn’t the first time the two had clashed over a player. Johnson shrewdly kept a recovered Troy Aikman on the bench for the start of the 1991 postseason, starting Steve Beuerlein after the backup had won five straight games following an Aikman injury. But it was Jones who was trumpeting to the Dallas press in no uncertain terms that Aikman was, in fact, the future of the franchise. The quarterback controversy surrounded the Cowboys leading up to their wild card win over Chicago and again in advance of their divisional loss to Detroit, when Aikman finally replaced Beuerlein as the team trailed by double digits.
And then there was the 1992 NFL Draft.
The day before first-round picks were to be made, the Cowboys had reached out to the Cleveland Browns regarding a trade. Browns coach Bill Belichick agreed to the deal, but called Dallas to accept the terms after Jones had already gone home. So Johnson went public and announced the trade. The next day, Jones was upset that he hadn’t been consulted and had a closed-door meeting with Johnson.
“Their meeting droned on until, with only five minutes left before the start of the draft, Jones told Johnson, ‘You know the ESPN camera is in the draft room today. So whenever we’re about to make a pick, you look at me, like we’re talking about it.’ In other words, Make me look as if I’m a big player here, even though we all know I’m not making the picks.”
Johnson stormed out of the room and shared several graphic descriptions of Jones with defensive coordinator Dave Wannstedt and director of player personnel Bob Ackles. The coach threatened to let Jones conduct the draft, even hinting that he might quit the team altogether. The staffers had to convince Johnson just to return to the team’s war room.
A flirtation with another
The infamous Jacksonville episode wounded Jones deeply. It came just before the Cowboys played the Giants in the final week of the 1993 regular season. The winner would claim the NFC East crown. In the lead-up to the must-win game, Johnson said in an ESPN interview that he would be “intrigued” by any interest from the new expansion club. The comment alone flaunted standard tampering rules; it certainly enraged his boss.
As King explains:
“Jones, upset at Johnson’s ill-timed remark, told the press that Jones and only Jones would decide Johnson’s coaching future. This made the strong-willed Johnson furious. On the team’s charter flight home after the win over the Giants, Johnson walked up to Jones and said, “By the way, I’m the one who’s going to decide how long I coach here.”
Despite the behind-the-scenes backbiting, Jones and Johnson drove their superstar roster to a combined 25-7 record over the 1993 and 1994 regular seasons, winning the Super Bowl both years in convincing fashion. The stage seemed set for a long dynastic run by the Cowboys. Privately, though, Jones already sensed a change was coming.
“Despondent, Jones visited his mother and father in Hot Springs, Arkansas, in early 1994 to seek their counsel. Johnson was threatening to bolt for the new franchise in Jacksonville, and most Dallas columnists were in the coach’s corner. ‘It’s eatin’ on me, it’s botherin’ me, it’s changin’ me,’ Jones told his folks. Pat Jones just said, ‘Come on, Jerry, be a man, live with it.’ His mother echoed that advice. And a longtime business partner, Mike McCoy, told Jones, ‘Are you getting what you want from Jimmy?’ The answer, on the field, was yes. ‘Then live with it,’ Jones says McCoy told him. ‘Forget it. Use him.’
But Jones couldn’t do it.
“When I would be with him and we’d be charming and all that stuff, I just- I just couldn’t stand it,” Jones now says. “And I was just thinking, ‘It’s false.'”
It should not have been a surprise, then, when the long-ago-lit and slow-burning fuse touched off an explosion. But the way it actually blew up could never have been predicted.
Drama over drinks
On March 21, management and staff from each NFL team were attending the league meetings in Orlando. ABC was throwing a party at Disney’s Pleasure Island to celebrate the 25th anniversary of Monday Night Football. Johnson and a table full of Cowboy employees and spouses were tipping back drinks and swapping work stories when Jones himself suddenly approached.
Unbeknownst to Jones, he was the subject of conversation before he arrived tableside.
An awkward hush fell amongst the group. With scouting director Larry Lacewell by his side and his own drink in hand, Jones banged the table and made a loud, boisterous, self-serving toast.
“Here’s to the Dallas Cowboys, and here’s to the people who made it possible to win two Super Bowls!”
Johnson was with Wannstedt, by then head coach in Chicago, offensive coordinator Norv Turner, who had just been named head coach in Washington, their wives, and several other team staffers, more than one of whom were now ex-staffers after being fired by Jones.
Not one person joined Jones in his toast and the silence was deafening.
Johnson glared at Jones. The billionaire and his ego-enhancing praise were not welcome with this bunch. Jones slammed down his glass, offered a few choice profanities, and retreated back to the hotel bar at the Hyatt Grand Cypress.
That’s where several reporters were enjoying their night. Among them were Ed Werder and Rick Gosselin of the Dallas Morning News. It was now in the wee hours of Tuesday morning, and soon, the beat writers began making their way back to their rooms. Jones reportedly tugged Werder by the pant leg and quietly offered a tantalizing scoop to him and Gosselin.
“Stick around and have a drink. You don’t want to miss the story of the year.”
Werder and Gosselin ditched the other reporters and circled back to the bar, where Jones laid out in an “off-the-record” talk that he was contemplating firing Johnson, who had secured a second straight league title for Jones just 51 days prior.
“I could step out and hire Barry Switzer as coach of the Dallas Cowboys tomorrow and he’d do a better job than Jimmy. Hell, I could probably get Lou Holtz over here. I might just step out tomorrow and hire either one of them.”
The writers were dumbstruck. But Jerry had even more to say.
“I think there are five hundred people who could have coached this team to the Super Bowl. I really believe that. [Expletive], I could have coached the hell out of this team!”
The owner continued his rant for the two reporters. By the end of the conversation, Gosselin said, per Pearlman’s book, “He was almost talking himself into firing Jimmy. He knew exactly what he was saying and what he was doing.”
The morning after
Still, the late-night curses of a tipsy billionaire in a hotel bar isn’t enough to go to press. Gosselin and Werder met with Jones again over breakfast a few hours later to confirm the previous night’s conversation.
Jones allowed the entire thing to go on the record.
Within minutes, Johnson himself found out what his boss had said. Lacewell had given the coach a heads-up on the story soon to break. In a chance meeting with Dolphins coach Don Shula, Johnson said in a hotel hallway, “I think I’ve just been fired.” Johnson bolted Orlando and drove to his home in the Florida Keys.
By the next day, March 23, Johnson had gone public with a statement in which he said he would have to “pull back and reassess things” regarding his future with the Cowboys after learning that Jones had threatened to fire him.
At a thrown-together press conference back at the hotel, Jones said there was nothing for Johnson to assess. He refused to issue an apology, calling the episode “just another day in the life of the Dallas Cowboys.”
But the next few days were surreal, even by the soap-opera standards of America’s Team.
Johnson pleaded his case in the media, saying, “I’m not the greatest in the world to get along with. I know I’m arrogant. I know I’m self-serving. But somebody please tell me what I’ve done wrong… What have I done so wrong to be ripped the way I have? To my mind, I just got to the pinnacle of my profession. What did I do wrong?”
Jones defended his hypothetical-coaching-change stance, arguing, “My job is to stay ahead of the game. The future always begins tomorrow. If I’m not considering it, no one is. My job is the future of the Dallas Cowboys.”
Both sides were digging in as divorce talks grew louder. And the players were the kids caught in the middle, being asked to choose sides.
Emmitt Smith supported his coach over the owner he had previously done battle with in a contract standoff. “The team would be in turmoil to lose the head coach over some bull after he won two Super Bowls. I don’t understand popping off like that,” Smith said. Later, he would be even more emphatic: “If you fire Jimmy, fire me.”
Aikman tried to remain neutral at first. “I really have no gut feeling about what’s going to happen,” he said. As the drama unfolded with no resolution, though, he revealed how deep the ripple effects went, ominously stating, “If I could have anticipated something like this happening, I would have been hesitant about signing a long-term contract.”
Jones and Johnson finally met again on March 28. According to King:
“We came up with five options,” said Johnson. “Number one, fire me, which we eliminated. Number two, I quit, which we eliminated. Number three, I continue to work under my existing contract, which we eliminated. Number four was to settle the contract and part. The fifth was to put all our efforts into one year. I even said I’d change the language in my contract, [which specified] that I had sole control of all personnel moves. Then after one year I’d be free to go where I wanted.”
The notion of the first-ever three-peat was alluring to both men. It might even make the headaches and bruised egos worthwhile. Jones and Johnson were former teammates, even former road-game roommates- while at Arkansas. They had been through the franchise’s darkest days together and come out on top of the mountain with a legitimate chance now to do something that had never been done before. Both men were leaning toward the Fifth Option: Put aside all differences for one last season and shoot for indisputable football immortality.
All it took to sour that grand plan was a newspaper headline a few hours later.
D-day
Tuesday morning, March 29, on his way into the team complex to bury the hatchet and finalize the deal that would keep him in place as coach, Johnson spotted the front page of the Fort Worth Star-Telegram. It read, “JERRY TO JIMMY: COMMIT OR QUIT.”
Johnson viewed the paper as Jones’s own mouthpiece; if the paper printed it, it’s because Jerry must have said it.
Johnson marched into Jones’s office having done a complete about-face. He looked at Jones and said, “It’s time.”
But Jones already knew that. He had made a phone call the day before to Barry Switzer.
Jones and Johnson decided to tear up Johnson’s contract with five years still remaining on it. Johnson was effectively a free agent. Jones also gave Johnson a $2 million severance bonus.
Then the pair walked out in front of the assembled press for what was described as an “awkward” press conference by one, “fraudulent” by another, and even “a lickfest” as Jones and Johnson each heaped feigned praise on the other until the obligatory media event was over.
The divorce was final.
Johnson went home and sobbed.
Jones received death threats.
Barry Switzer was introduced as the Cowboys’ new coach the next day. It had been just nine days since Johnson ignored Jones’s toast at Pleasure Island.
Still friends?
Despite Johnson’s claim during that parting press conference that, “I feel better today about Jerry Jones as a friend than I have our entire friendship,” that warm-and-fuzzy tone didn’t stick.
Jones told Johnson then that he’d ask him for advice moving forward. In 2014, the 20th anniversary of their split, Johnson told Tim Cowlishaw of the Dallas Morning News, “Do you want to know how many time Jerry or Stephen have called me in 20 years for advice or to ask about a player? Zero. And yet they call Lacewell.”
“Disloyalty,” Jones said that same year, referring to Johnson’s taking credit for what Jones considers front office business. “I couldn’t handle the disloyalty. Whether it was right or not, by every measurement you can go, I had paid so many times a higher price to get there than he had paid, it was unbelievable.”
Johnson responded by calling Jones “a rich [expletive].”
But Jones still owns the team, and by extension, significant control of the legacy. The names of Aikman, Smith, Michael Irvin, Darren Woodson, and Charles Haley are up there in the stadium, but Johnson has yet to be placed in the team’s Ring of Honor.
“It certainly has been more of a negative for me than it was for him,” Jones told Van Natta. Their split “caused him to never have won but two Super Bowls!” Jones says, practically shouting. “I don’t give a [expletive] what it is, but it caused one thing for him: He’ll never win but two! I’ve won three! And I may get to win five more!”
“I lost my tolerance of having an associate, a friend, not be loyal. I’ve been told, ‘That’s trite. You should be bigger than that.’ I mean, really: am I so dumb that I don’t know you don’t fire a coach after y’all just won two straight Super Bowls?”
In the end, though, all that talk of the pair’s “friendship” may have simply been part of the facade they created for the world. Kevin Sherrington of the Dallas Morning News revealed the reason Johnson and Jones had been Razorback roommates for away games? Alphabetical.
Still, though, now 26 years after the divorce, there remains the possibility of reconciliation.
Jones and Johnson both made efforts in 2017 to extend an olive branch at a 25-year reunion of the 1992 Super Bowl team thrown by Aikman.
“I wanted someone I knew, I wanted someone I knew well. I wanted someone that could get it done to be our coach. I wanted Jimmy Johnson. I said he’d be worth five first-round draft choices or five Heisman Trophy winners. Of course, I sure did get laughed out of town when I said it. It was my first experience as an owner and general manager making a difficult and very unpopular decision. Jimmy, it was a great decision.
“You were a great teammate, you were a great partner. To the contrary of popular belief, we worked so well together for five years and restored the Cowboys’ credibility with our fans. We were back to back, we were driven, we had thick skin, we took all the criticism they could dish out. I thank you.”
Last best chance at reconciliation
Now that Johnson, too, has been chosen for enshrinement in Canton the chance exists once again for the two to patch things up publicly. Jones seized the moment of Johnson’s selection to engineer an appearance by the Cowboys in the Hall of Fame Game.
“When we learned that Jimmy Johnson would be involved in the August ceremony in Canton, we approached the Hall of Fame and expressed a strong interest in being a part of honoring his legacy and induction by bringing our team and Cowboys fans to Canton.” – via Darrin Grant, Pro Football Talk
Jones has taken several opportunities in recent years to reflect on the way his relationship with Johnson crashed and burned. And the role he played in fanning the flames.
“I lost my tolerance for a lot of things I probably should have tolerated,” Jones told KTCK-AM 1310 The Ticket in 2016. “I probably should have had a little more tolerance with Jimmy Johnson. Seriously.”
Van Natta wrote Jones “teetered between rage and sorrow” as he recounted the events of two decades prior, sometimes blaming himself for the falling out with Johnson. “I should have exercised tolerance and patience,” Jones mused. “I did not.”
Jones even looks back on that fateful night in Orlando with a clearer perspective. According to those at the table that night, Johnson was in the middle of retelling the story of the 1992 draft and Jones’ demands Johnson play to the ESPN cameras when Jones appeared to make his disastrous toast.
Jones confessed to Peter King that he doesn’t remember asking Johnson to pretend to consult him about draft picks. “But if that’s the story they were telling when I approached their table,” Jones told King, “now I know why they all looked so sheepish.”
As for the “five hundred coaches” quote that was the shot heard ’round the league and maybe the straw that broke the camel’s back?
According to the Ron St. Angelo and Norm Hitzges book Greatest Team Ever: The Dallas Cowboys Dynasty of the 1990s, Jones now regrets the remark and understands the impact of the message it may have sent to Johnson.
“If you’ve spent any time around me, you know I express myself in hyperbole. ‘He threw the ball a thousand yards,’ saying things that way… I really to this day am amazed that anybody would look at that and say, ‘Well, did Jerry actually think there were five hundred people that could coach that team?… But I think it [the statement] did offend him. That was a mistake. I shouldn’t have said that. But I felt that strongly about the personnel of the team we had put together.”
Nomadic Ways
For his part, Johnson has claimed the quip played no role in the breakup.
“I was leaving anyway,” Johnson said in a 2006 revelation. “I had already written down the actual date I was going to resign in my personal itinerary. It was just a few weeks away, before the draft. I was just going to say, ‘I’m gone.'”
According to Cowlishaw’s piece, Johnson started losing interest toward the end of the 1992 season, as it became clear that his coaching staff would be poached by other teams. After never coaching anywhere for longer than five years, Johnson’s reputation was as a coach who comes in and builds from scratch. He doesn’t rebuild.
“If Johnson had to build a new staff,” Cowlishaw writes, “he didn’t want to do it in Dallas where anything short of Super Bowl victory would hang in the air like defeat. He wanted a fresh start with the expansion team in Jacksonville, which was as close as he could get to his beloved south Florida at the time.”
In fact, at the Orlando meetings in 1994, Johnson had just come off a long Florida fishing vacation. With just a month to go before the draft, he hadn’t looked at tape on a single player.
“This wasn’t a coach thinking about history or legacies,” according to Cowlishaw. “This was a man in search of the nearest fire escape.”
While it’s easy to cast Johnson as the slick talker with the cushy TV job and the fishing boat, the carefree soul who walked away from an intense marriage and now says he never cared that much, that’s not the truth either. Watch the footage of him receiving his invitation to the Hall of Fame. Those tears are genuine. What he did in Dallas meant something. For a time, it meant everything.
And the fact that he’s not in the team’s Ring of Honor?
“I think he’d say it’s not important for him to go into the Ring of Honor,” Aikman has stated, “but I know that’s not accurate.”
NFL fans and popular culture ate up the Jones/Johnson feud while it was happening. It continues to make headlines every time someone reveals another tidbit about who said what to whom or how one of them undercut the other. Even though the marriage itself was short-lived, it produced something lasting and special in the annals of pro football. Jerry and Jimmy will always be linked by what they accomplished alongside one another.
They’ll soon be roommates once again in the bust gallery in Canton. And for many Cowboys players and fans of that generation, the only thing nearly as sweet as another Super Bowl victory will be the day when Jones and Johnson make peace with each other for real… and make good on a promise from the day they divorced.
“We have mutually agreed that if we don’t look out,” Jones said at that awkward 1994 press conference, according to Mark Heisler of the LA Times, “we’ll take one of the greatest stories that’s ever been told in sports, in my view, and we’ll take all the positives away. There are no negatives when you really look at it.”
But until Jerry Jones and Jimmy Johnson find a way to let bygones truly be bygones, there is still a negative when Cowboys fans look back on the two men’s shared rise to glory.
“We don’t let our egos get in the way of the ball club,” Aikman said after Johnson’s departure from the team. “We understand that sometimes you have to suppress your own selfish desires to benefit the team. Maybe that is something Jimmy and Jerry never understood and were never capable of understanding.”
-In addition to the news links in this article, the following books were instrumental in the retelling of this story:
The outspoken Cowboys owner held court with the press in Indianapolis, touching on a wide variety of topics, including Dez Bryant’s return.
Practically the entirety of the NFL media corps assembles in Indianapolis each year for the annual scouting combine. An army of reporters outfitted with cameras and microphones, just hanging around looking for things to broadcast/write/tweet about? Cowboys owner Jerry Jones is simply incapable of helping himself.
His lengthy huddle with the Dallas press aboard his parked bus has become a yearly tradition. And the outspoken owner always manages to deliver at least a few buzzworthy soundbites, even if he rarely makes any genuine take-it-to-the-bank revelations about the inner workings of the front office.
On a Dez Bryant return…
Over the course of eighty minutes on Thursday, Jones touched on a wide-ranging list of topics. But the quote that everyone will be talking about on Friday may be his weirdest since 2012’s “glory hole” line.
Jerry Jones has not talked to Dez Bryant directly, but “I have been thinking about it a lot in the shower.”
“It should not be dismissed. I’m thinking about it.”
What Jones thinks about in the shower is a revelation, to be sure, but probably falls under the category of TMI for even the most hardcore Cowboys fan. Still, the Dez-comeback scenario appears to have gained real traction with the man who signs the paychecks.
On the franchise and transition tags…
Jones admitted that he voted for the collective bargaining agreement that’s up for approval from the players union, even though its ratification would cost the front office a bit of leveraging strategy when it comes to one of their superstar free agents.
Cowboys owner Jerry Jones on CBA, if approved: “It removes a very strategic thing for us. That is, we lose the transition (tag). Strategically, that was really thought of a lot” for Amari Cooper. Cowboys plan to franchise QB Dak Prescott if no long-term deal reached by March 12.
The team could employ both the franchise and transition tags on Prescott and Cooper, respectively, under the terms of the current CBA. But if a new deal is made official, the league would expect Dallas to rescind one of the tags in accordance with the new CBA’s terms.
“It’s what it is. We’ll just have to figure out a way to (get it done),” Jones told Gehlken. “There’s no question it’s going to put on a bigger angst.”
On Dak Prescott’s importance…
The lack of a new contract for quarterback Dak Prescott looks more baffling by the day and has led some to question the team’s very belief in the signal-caller, who’s coming off his best season as a pro.
But when asked about Prescott’s importance to the organization, Jones struggled initially to find the words. When he did, though, he put the former fourth-round draft pick on par with his own son.
On Robert Quinn returning for a second season in Dallas…
Edge rusher Robert Quinn was one of the few standouts on a defense that mostly underachieved in 2019. His 11.5 sacks made the sixth-round draft pick that the Cowboys gave to Miami in exchange for his services perhaps Jones’s best deal of 2019 in terms of bang-for-buck.
Some have assumed that those numbers would make Quinn too hot a commodity for Dallas to keep beyond the one-year rental deal they made to get him. But Jones holds out hope.
Jerry Jones called Cowboys DE Robert Quinn “one of the top people — people, players and people — that I’ve ever been associated with. He’s the real deal. … He really helped us last year. So I’m hopeful that we can do something to keep him.” Contract set to expire on March 18.
Jerry’s affection and loyalty for certain players has always been obvious throughout his regime. It’s not every owner who would greenlight giving a starting spot on the roster to a 36-year-old retiree who had spent the previous season watching games from a broadcast booth.
The 2019 Jason Witten Experiment netted results that were lukewarm, at best. While many in Cowboys Nation have already moved on from the eleven-time Pro Bowler and started to prepare for life with him in a different uniform, Jones says he isn’t ready to cut ties just yet.
Jerry Jones said the hold up on Jason Witten is Witten deciding he handle the role given to him in Dallas. Jones wants him back and thinks he can contribute. Jones doesn't want Witten to be anything but a Cowboy
With Prescott and Cooper comprising the two biggest priorities for the team this offseason, it’s been Byron Jones who’s typically being left out in the cold as visions of the 2020 roster materialize. Despite his obvious athleticism and shutdown play at the cornerback position, a lack of interceptions has been frustrating, to say the least.
Stephen Jones actually spoke about Byron in past tense recently, saying, “He’s had a great run” as a Cowboy. Jerry isn’t packing Byron’s bags just yet, but sure makes it sound like the writing’s on the wall.
Jerry Jones said “it’s not a given” team can’t afford to retain CB Byron Jones. “But it’s certainly pretty plain to see when you have the players we have right now under contract, plus we have arguably three of the top free agents …out there. …It’s a real challenge.”
Jimmy Johnson will be inducted into the Pro Football Hall of Fame this summer. But the Cowboys coach who commandeered the turnaround of the franchise and masterminded the creation of the ’90s dynasty still isn’t in the team’s Ring of Honor.
Some have speculated that Johnson’s invitation to Canton would spur Jones to bury the hatchet once and for all, and in the most meaningful way possible, by hanging his first hire’s name permanently in his own house. But when asked about it, Jones sidestepped the issue.
Jerry Jones said putting Jimmy Johnson in the Ring of Honor is not on his mind right now. Jones adds that Johnson has a big year ahead with his HOF induction and wants the focus to be on that. He then mentioned Tom Landry was in the Hall of Fame before the Ring of Honor
The 2018 season saw the dawning of what Cowboys fans hoped would be a golden age of Dallas linebacker play. Jaylon Smith blossomed before our eyes, and rookie Leighton Vander Esch proved his worth as a first-round selection. But in 2019, Smith’s play seemed to regress, and Vander Esch missed the back half of the season with a mysterious neck issue that dates back years.
Jones expressed optimism, though, that the Wolf Hunter would be back on the prowl in 2020.
Jerry Jones on LVE and his recovery from neck surgery: “He’s 100 percent in my eyes.”
Jerry doesn’t make the schedule, but he obviously knows what the Cowboys are capable of pulling in regarding TV ratings. If there’s a big game being played, it’s unfailingly made even larger by America’s Team being one of the participants.
Jones has his eye on two key ribbon-cutting games on the 2020 schedule.
If it’s at all possible, Jerry Jones is hopeful the Cowboys can help open the new stadiums in both L.A. & Las Vegas.
It’s theoretically doable. They play @ the Rams in 2020, and they could schedule a preseason game against the Raiders.
For the media members who climb aboard Jerry’s party bus in Indianapolis every year, it’s always quite a ride. Even though it never actually leaves its parking spot.
The rift is as much a part of Cowboys lore as the chips won together. With the HOF nod, the light shines on it once again.
Sports is often a microcosm of life; it’s one of the things that makes it so endearing to all. Rooting for our favorite teams often operate for us as a faith, with unbridled devotion. Fans defend their favorite players with ties sometimes thicker than how they view their own family members. Life lessons are often exemplified by what it takes to be successful on the field. Commitment, honor, valor and effort earn respect. Sometimes they earn accolades, like championships, other times the rewards are more internal but just as righteous.
These lessons can manifest themselves in different ways. One is when it comes to being commemorated for carrying oneself the right way. Parents will often tell their children that if you don’t respect yourself then how can anyone else respect you? Jerry Jones believes this. He knows that the Cowboys Ring of Honor, reserved for the best players and coaches in franchise history, is the gatekeeper to the Pro Football Hall of Fame for those who’ve come through Dallas. Without entrance to the Ring of Honor, it’s highly unlikely a person would make their way to Canton.
Jones knows this, but despite Jimmy Johnson bringing Jones his first two championships and setting the stage for the third and currently last one, Jones has not offered Johnson a place in the Ring.
Said before that hearing I'm appreciated means more to me than hearing I'm loved. Jimmy knows he's loved. He just rarely heard he was appreciated from that one guy during his most accomplished stint in the NFL. That's why this was such an emotional moment for him https://t.co/AlmtmSnKSb
— Beyonce has an uncle named Larry Beyince. Bruh…. (@DragonflyJonez) January 13, 2020
The two have publicly buried the hatchet after they parted ways in the mid-90s. The rift began to develop as the team was on its way to winning back-to-back championships, with Jones at a bar saying anyone could win titles with the Cowboys’ roster. Things devolved from there and eventually led to Johnson wanting out and Jones wanting him gone.
“We’re so happy that the Hall of Fame has recognized Jimmy Johnson for what he is. A great coach,” said Jones, who hired Johnson as Cowboys head coach after buying the team in 1989.
“To Jimmy I say, ‘The stars were aligned and our dreams came true when we joined the Dallas Cowboys.’
“And on behalf of the Cowboys, and our fans all over the world, I say congratulations Jimmy. We’re proud of you.”
There’s plenty of talk over whether Jones fired Johnson, whether Johnson quit or whether they mutually decided to part ways. Whatever the case, Johnson left, Jones hired Barry Switzer and they won another Lombardi trophy.
The divide appeared to be bridged over the latter part of the last decade. Jones heaped mounds of praise on Johnson during his speech when the former was elected into the Hall of Fame in 2016. They played nice at a 25th anniversary celebration,
At the Ritz-Carlton, I first asked Jones why he had not honored Johnson; after all, he had coached the Cowboys to two Super Bowl titles in five years, while it took Landry 29 years to win the same number. Jones responded with a convoluted explanation about Johnson failing to meet the standards favoring players established long ago by Tex Schramm, whom Jones himself had put in the Ring of Honor in 2003. (Jones had honored Landry in 1993.) Weeks later, Jones struggled to answer the same question during our on-camera interview at Valley Ranch, insisting that his decision is not personal.
But it is.
Onboard his plane, with Gene sitting in a leather chair across from us, Jones spits out the reason Johnson isn’t in the Ring of Honor: “Disloyalty … I couldn’t handle the disloyalty. Whether it was right or not, by every measurement you can go, I had paid so many times a higher price to get to be there than he had paid, it was unbelievable. … By any way you wanna measure it, wear and tear, pain, worry, butt kickin’, the criticism — everything in the book!”
Petty.
Jones knows the Ring is the gateway. He added stellar tackle and six-time Pro Bowler Rayfield Wright – who played for Dallas from 1967 – 1979 – in 2004, opening Wright to be added to the Hall if 2006 from the veteran’s committee. He added longtime personnel savant Gil Brandt in November 2018, paving the way for his Hall invitation to come a handful of months later.
He’s made similar efforts for Drew Peason and Darren Woodson. But despite the flowery language he’s heaped on Johnson since that 2014 ESPN interview, he never made the move to have Johnson honored in front of Cowboys fans.
And now that the Hall has opened their doors, it makes Jones’ sustained beef seem overcooked and very, very petty.
Seventh time is a charm, right? For Tampa Bay Buccaneers great John Lynch, it might finally be his year to get that elusive gold jacket. Lynch was drafted as the 82nd overall pick (third round) in 1993 by the Buccaneers out of Stanford. Just a year …
Seventh time is a charm, right? For Tampa Bay Buccaneers great John Lynch, it might finally be his year to get that elusive gold jacket.
Lynch was drafted as the 82nd overall pick (third round) in 1993 by the Buccaneers out of Stanford. Just a year prior, the Florida Marlins also drafted Lynch as a pitcher with the 66th overall pick (second round) but he ultimately chose football as his career going forward, and it’s safe to say that both he and the Bucs are happy he went that route.
Throughout the first three seasons of his career, Lynch was mainly a backup safety, barring injury to the Bucs starters (Marty Carter 1993-94 and Barney Bussey 1995) despite flashing signs of the greatness that has Lynch as a seven-time finalist to be inducted into the Hall of Fame.
In 1995, Lynch earned his first start for the Bucs against the Minnesota Vikings and made a tremendous impact with 11 tackles (six solo), two passes deflected and he picked off Vikings quarterback Warren Moon twice. It wasn’t until coaches Tony Dungy and Monte Kiffin implemented the Tampa 2 defense that Lynch would wind up putting the entire league on notice that he was as a mainstay in the starting lineup as the Buccaneers strong safety.
While his numbers may not show the flashy appeal that some fans want to see when it comes to talking about all-time greats, Lynch possessed all of the intangibles that makes players great. Lynch played 11 seasons for the Buccaneers and four with the Denver Broncos.
Since 2017, Lynch has been the general manager of the San Francisco 49ers, instilling the same intensity he played with into his team’s players and coaches, and rebuilt a franchise that saw a fall from grace since their 2012 visit to the Super Bowl. The 49ers earned a record of 13-3 this season, good enough for the best record in the NFC and a bye in the first round of the 2019 playoffs.
John Lynch Hall of Fame resume
1059 combined tackles (727 solo, 319 assisted)
16 Forced Fumbles
26 Interceptions
9x Pro Bowler (1997, 1999-2002, 2004-2007)
2x NFL All-Pro First Team (1999 and 2000)
2x NFL All-Pro Second Team (2001 and 2002)
Tampa Bay Buccaneers Ring of Honor
Denver Broncos Ring of Fame
Buccaneers faithful, and Lynch himself, will find out February 1 if seventh time is the charm for him to join fellow Buccaneers Lee Roy Selmon, Warren Sapp, Derrick Brooks and Tony Dungy in the NFL Hall of Fame.
The College Football Hall of Fame welcomed former Seattle Seahawks head coach Dennis Erickson and defensive end Jacob Green on Tuesday.
The College Football Hall of Fame inducted their 2019 class on Tuesday night, and a pair with ties to the Seattle Seahawks – defensive end Jacob Green and coach Dennis Erickson – were among those honored.
Green is a Ring of Honor member of the Seahawks, having spent 11 of his 12 NFL seasons in Seattle. The two-time Pro Bowler was with the Seahawks from 1980-1991 after getting selected 10th overall out of Texas A&M.
Green becomes the 11th A&M Aggie to get inducted into the College Football Hall of Fame, where he starred from 1977-1979.
“This is a universal award for my family, coaches and Texas A&M,” Green said of making the Hall. “I could have never done it without them. Aggies all over the country are excited for me—at least the ones I’ve talked to—which is pretty good.”
Erickson coached the Seahawks from 1995-1998, leading them to a 31-33 record. Three of his four seasons finished with an even 8-8 finish.
Erickson is being awarded thanks to his extensive career as a college head coach, which included stints at Idaho, Wyoming, Washington State, Miami, Oregon State, and Arizona State.