Dan Devine, a Dallas Cowboys fan who has lived in New York City for the past 53 years, was shocked to read on Tuesday that Jerry Jones, the team’s owner, president, and general manager, was keeping Mike McCarthy as head coach despite the Cowboys’ shocking 48-32 home playoff loss to the Green Bay Packers last Sunday. He concluded that enough was enough.
Devine,59, vowed to give up his Cowboys fandom forever, despite his fifty years of steadfast devotion to the team, five Super Bowl victories, thirty or so Cowboys games he has attended in person across the nation, the jerseys adorning his closet, and the Dallas memorabilia in his office. The forensic accountant Devine declares, “I am done.” What irritated me the most
In the first half, Green Bay led Dallas 27 to 0. “Did he miss the game?” Devine asks, getting louder. To believe that he still has a team capable of competing with the Ravens or the 49ers? They got their asses kicked while playing against the newest and least experienced squad. And you’re in close proximity?
Amidst the devastating Wild Card loss to Green Bay and Jones’ choice to retain McCarthy, the most successful coach in NFL history, Cowboys fans appear to be going through some kind of existential crisis this week. The Cowboys are the most valuable sports franchise in the world. It is the height of vitriol. Proponents used foul language on social media. Memes were created in droves. Experts were utterly furious.But a fan like Devine disavowing Dallas, which hasn’t reached a conference championship game in almost 30 years, speaks to something more seriously amiss in Cowboy Nation. Fans like Devine helped brandish Dallas’ reputation as “America’s Team,” and build the franchise into a multibillion-dollar brand. They came of age in the 1970s—as Monday Night Football grew into a cultural phenomenon—drawn to the star on the helmet, Roger Staubach’s winning ways, the cheerleaders, and the glamour. Even deep in rival territory, like New York City, kids like Devine bled silver and blue. They suffered through some rough patches in the 1980s—three straight conference-championship game losses, the flailing end of the Tom Landry era, the 1-15 season under new owner Jerry Jones and his handpicked Landry coaching
But ever since, there has been some hope for Cowboys fans thanks to the hiring of Super Bowl champion Bill Parcells as coach, Terrell Owens, and quarterbacks Tony Romo and Dak Prescott. But Jones’ Cowboys have failed to deliver year after year. So many seem to be tired of it. Dallas may be losing the nation if it loses Dan Devine. The reputation of “America’s Team” is eroding quickly.
Since I’m his nephew, I am aware of all of this about Dan. In the 1980s, as I was coming of age, I would spend hours by myself in his room watching cartoons or baseball games and admiring the tiny Cowboys helmets he had on his shelf. At the time, he was a college student, either in class or out having fun. Now, my mother’s brother Uncle Dan occasionally texts me to vent about his favorite sports teams, particularly the New York Mets and the Dallas Cowboys (we have a mutual love for baseball teams; I’ve never been a big fan of the Cowboys). However, the Tuesday night one caught me off guard: “I’m going to give you the lowdown.” I think cowboys are extinct. My new favorite team is the Ravens, then the Pack.
Uncle Dan is the only Dallas fan I’ve ever met. When Dan was seven years old in 1971, he began to support Dallas. Bob Lilly, a Dallas defensive tackle known as Mr. Cowboy and Hall of Famer, was well-liked by his best friend’s father, who had the pleasure of meeting him. Dan also has a history of liking westerns and sheriffs. In his home, people liked Gunsmoke. In his room, he had posters of Randy White, Tony Dorsett, and Staubach. In his childhood Bronx housing development, he would insisted on playing pickup football on a basketball court, pretending to be either Staubach or the wide receiver Drew Pearson. Longtime friend and fellow Cowboys fan Bob Schaefer says, “Those games would start out as touch.” “And result in fistfights.”
Schaefer attempted to christen his 27-year-old son Troy—after Aikman. That suggestion was turned down by his spouse. He is one who isn’t going to give up on the Cowboys. Was Dan being sincere, then? He remained steadfast when I called him to make sure he wasn’t just texting furiously at the time. Dan says, “I just throw my hands up.” “I support the Cowboys more than I do my other teams. It will be challenging to lose that. The fans don’t matter to the owners. What makes me care so much? He has already removed the hangers from all eight of his Cowboys jerseys. They’re on the ground, rolled up into a ball.
Michelle, Dan’s wife of thirty years, attests that he does mean it. Michelle states, “That’s the craziest part of it all.” “I think he’s really finished. It’s unbelievable to me that I’m saying that. I’m taken aback. I never would have thought that day would arrive. She has experienced the highs, such as visiting AT&T Stadium in 2016 with Dan. She remarks, “It was really, really cool.” In addition, there are the difficult times. About fifteen years ago, Dan cried out, “Please, someone help me!” during a Cowboys game, and his neighbors—New York City police officers—came to see if he was okay.
Dan’s position generally depresses Michelle. She remarks, “That was such an important part of who he was.” “It seems like a part of him is disappearing.”I