The Cowboys’ humiliating implosion in final minutes vs. 49ers perfectly captured their depressing essence

Choking with their season on the line is just what the Cowboys do.

When the calendar turns to mid-January, the Dallas Cowboys lose. It’s just what the NFL’s most overinflated, sorry excuse of a franchise does this time of year.

When it’s time to make a big-time throw, the quarterback, in this case, Dak Prescott, misses and badly. When they have to save valuable late-game time for a potential comeback, the head coach, in this case, incomparable bumbler Mike McCarthy, suddenly forgets what he’s supposed to do with his hands. In tense final-moment situations — what mid-winter in pro football is ultimately defined by — the Cowboys will assuredly find a way to screw it up. It’s their modus operandi.

At this point, in the year 2023, almost three decades removed from the last time Jerry Jones’ depressing pet project made any sort of deep postseason run, it’s abundantly clear the Cowboys fundamentally can’t change who they are. Some teams, like Joe “Cool” Burrow’s Cincinnati Bengals or the legendary Patrick Mahomes and the Kansas City Chiefs, are built for the rigors of the postseason. With an extra boost of sudden-death adrenaline, they thrive.

Some teams, like the front-running Cowboys, are constructed for the low stakes of the regular season and the regular season alone.

How else do you expand upon the manners in which the Cowboys did seemingly everything possible to throw away a comeback attempt in a 19-12 crushing divisional-round defeat to the San Francisco 49ers? While entirely unsurprising in scope, it felt as if they were trying to lose.

Take Prescott’s “response” drive after the 49ers extended the margin to seven in the late fourth quarter. Did one of pro football’s more productive regular-season quarterbacks deliver an emphatic possession filled with decisive lasers to his receivers? Or did he melt under the intense pressure like an egg being fried on an August sidewalk?

You already know the answer. I shouldn’t have to say anything else, but I will anyway. You have, quite literally, seen this movie on countless occasions. It’s like watching a superhero film of late: all the story beats are already there. The Cowboys will, eventually, hit every last one of them.

After linebacker Dre Greenlaw dropped an awful Prescott short toss to start the drive, Dallas receiver Michael Gallup came way free downfield. At no risk of hyperbole, there’s a genuine chance, with a quality pass, that Gallup could’ve scored and turned this Bay Area heavyweight battle into an instant classic.

Instead, Prescott sailed his throw so egregiously that it was evident the bright lights of the moment were too big for him.

Great quarterbacks on great teams do not miss these plays in late-game spots. If they get even a sliver of an opening for a kill shot, they take it and run with glee. But “great” is not an adjective that applies to Prescott or the Cowboys.

Nevertheless, the Cowboys would inevitably punt because they trusted their titanic defense (not Prescott). But, while chasing a team with a dynamite defense of its own, did they punt right away with a sense of urgency? Or did they let 45 seconds (FORTY-FIVE) tick off the clock before returning the ball to San Francisco with just over two minutes remaining?

Again, you know the answer. It almost feels contrived to note anything but “Mike McCarthy happened.”

 

Even while playing behind the eight-ball, the Cowboys’ defense admirably stepped up to give its offense one last unlikely gasp. Did the Dallas attack play desperately and composed? Did it wring out every last drop to put itself in position to steal victory out of the jaws of heartbreaking defeat?

(Sigh) No. No, it did not.

There was Dalton Schultz stopping his momentum while going out of bounds, ensuring the timeout-less Cowboys lost more time off the clock. (Never mind that the TE would also not drag his feet to maintain a catch on a later play.)

Now, when push came to shove, if the Cowboys didn’t score a 76-yard touchdown on the last play of the game, their season was over.

This was how Mike “Galaxy Brain” McCarthy lined up for the Hail-Mary play of all Hail-Mary plays:

Please note Ezekiel Elliott lined up at center. Please recognize how the offense is spread out like a gloried “gate” attack from a high school squad. This was McCarthy throwing out the kitchen sink with the Cowboys’ Super Bowl dreams on the line. The strategy predictably popped like a balloon.

The Cowboys couldn’t help themselves. Prescott couldn’t help himself. McCarthy couldn’t help himself. All of these factors, especially from the head coach down, are intertwined. They play into one another like a symphony of playoff failure.

I want to center on McCarthy in particular. The man with a notorious reputation for mismanaging postseason battles had to make his presence known in a way that drew trademark derision from the football world, didn’t he? McCarthy has become a living, breathing meme in the said sphere for his long-standing capacity to let his players down every January. The humor that arises from his latest folly every season is like clockwork. This is a coaching-broken clock only proven right in the regular season.

I can’t say I necessarily feel the same way. I mean, yes, it is comical that McCarthy has spent decades around the highest level of the game and has never learned how to control a playoff matchup. It’s flat-out embarrassing. Most people with an ounce of competence actually get better at their jobs with more experience and exposure to stressful situations. I won’t deny such a sentiment.

But for McCarthy to keep stepping on rakes that coldly hit him in the face in the 2020s is sad. This almost 60-year-old man hasn’t evolved in ages, and all you can do is ask, “why?”

No wonder the Cowboys fell short on Sunday night. They have a quarterback ill-equipped to make timely throws in big spots. They have a coach who wouldn’t know what a vital timeout or exquisite play design in the final moments would look like if it slapped him upside the face.

Never has the NFL’s poster boy for playoff disappointment had two better role models on how to choke when it matters most than Prescott and McCarthy. They take after the example their leaders set. And their leaders might never be equipped for the most dramatic portion of the football calendar.

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