It’s not easy being a Dallas Cowboys fan. That’s probably because there are so many Dallas Cowboys haters out there.
Now, I will not admit to being in either camp though I can certainly empathize with either side. It’s amusing to watch it all play out, especially if you can claim to be a Denver Broncos fan, which I will admit to.
So much hype and fanfare surrounds “America’s Team” that every year a fair amount of angst is sure to develop among the Cowboys’ faithful.
When things are rolling along well with Troy Aikman or Roger Staubach slinging touchdown passes in the Super Bowl, Cowboys fans can be a very boastful lot. When Tony Romo is fumbling field goal snaps or Steve Pelluer is finishing 3-13, they can be a bit edgy.
I grew up sharing a bedroom with an avid Dallas Cowboys fan— my brother— and over the years I’ve worked with or known lots of Cowboys fanatics. I like to jerk ‘em around a little when I get the chance.
During the fateful 1988 Pelluer season (by the way Pelluer wasn’t really to blame for that mark … he was running for his life all season long) I fixed my brother up with a T-shirt I designed myself for his Christmas gift. It had the Cowboys emblem in a circle with the diagonal line across it and choice headlines from the season’s biggest heartbreaks. I suspect he burned that shirt on New Year’s Eve.
Another time I was working with a particularly obnoxious Cowboys fan following the fumbled field goal snap by Romo that kept the Cowboys from advancing in the playoffs. This particular Cowboys fan had kept a Dallas Cowboys wallpaper scene on his computer all year. One night before he came in I swapped that wallpaper shot out for one depicting the gaffe. The next night I put a picture of Jessica Simpson (then Romo’s main squeeze and rumored distraction) in a pink Romo jersey.
That Cowboys fan became just a little bit hostile.
Currently I’m once again messing with Sasquatch, so to speak. The resident Cowboys nut I office with now has numerous Cowboys items on display in his office. From time to time I slip in and turn every piece of Dallas bric-a-brac upside down. One day he didn’t notice it until a client (garbed in Dallas gear) pointed it out to him.
He doesn’t know who’s messing with him but he’s getting another dose before this column hits this week just in case somebody spills the beans to him.
I would probably count myself as a Cowboys fan if it weren’t for the legions of thin-skinned, fair-weather, know-it-all Dallas supporters. It’s more fun teasing them than it is rooting on the Cowpokies.