Jerry's Cowboys are America's Joke
For every football fan desperate to buy a fresh pair of panties before settling into a stadium seat for an NFL game, this is your lucky day.
Always at the forefront of idiocracy, the Dallas Cowboys plan to open a Victoria’s Secret “PINK” store at JerryWorld.
As in, in the stadium.
As in, get your peanuts and popcorn and G-strings.
As in, typical Jerry Jones.
It has been a slippery slide to football as a sideshow for the Cowboys with "Jerruh" running things and now we have a nadir, the stadium starting the slow roll to becoming a mall.
Watch. Do not watch. Just be sure to see what a Bombshell bra with a Cowboys logo does to transform your Bs into Cs.
I should not be shocked. He is the owner who brought us pole dancers at games. No really, there are poles and platforms and scantily clad Miller Lite girls dancing on them on any given Sunday. He is the owner who serves as his own general manager while also booking fights for JerryWorld, promoting concerts at JerryWorld, and landing the official soda, pizza and now panties of JerryWorld.
And he wonders why winning has been elusive.
Bombshell bras are just another sign of what has plagued the Cowboys post-Jimmy Johnson. It is never about the football in Dallas. It is about making money, or making headlines, or having fun — all of which are admirable goals for the owner of any team.
Jerry’s problem is he is also the football decision-maker. He refuses to hire a football guy. He IS the football guy. He decides on whom to sign, whom to draft and does so between bringing a Victoria’s Secret to JerryWorld.
Forget the jokes for a second. And there were many already flooding my Twitter about Cowboys and panties, Romo and panties and, well, you get the idea.
This is how a football team ends up winning a single playoff game in almost two decades. This is how a team with Tony Romo and Jason Witten and DeMarcus Ware ends up underachieving so thoroughly for so long, how Wade Phillips stays employed, how T.O. destroys a locker room without interference, how “jiving at the Joule” becomes part of the local lexicon, how the NY Giants win a pair of Super Bowls in what was supposed to be the Cowboys' window.
Football is an unrelenting business. The people who excel at the Xs and Os typically are myopic. They are breaking down film, their rosters, their opponents’ film, their opponent’s rosters. They tend not to have side jobs, rapping in Papa John's commercials. They tend to say things like, “leave me the hell alone” when a PR person walks in floating the idea of showing up at the ribbon-cutting ceremony for the bra-and-panty store opening at the stadium before Monday Night Football.
I like Jerry Jones. I really, really do. He is smart and funny and fun. If I was having a party, I’d want him there — and not simply to try to talk him into rapping. He has a way of making everybody feel like the most important person in the room. He is generous with everything. And he tells unrelentingly awesome stories.
And what I have always said about Jerry is what a great owner he is, always thinking of ways to generate cash and always willing to spend that cash on his Cowboys.
What I have come to realize, though, is somewhere along the way football really did become a sideshow. It became about everything but. The football is just a way to sell everything else. It no longer matters if the team is any good. Winning Super Bowls does not sell more panties. Being the Cowboys and all that entails sells panties and everything else.
And that is why you can get your ring in the Meadowlands.
And why Victoria’s Secret chose to open at JerryWorld.
It is good news, really, if you are the kind of fan in need of a Bombshell bra or panties before a game and not so much if you are the kind who cares about the whole winning-and-losing thing. Because after a while, you realize the push-up bra and pole dancers are just distractions, meant so you miss what is really missing.