Craig Lancaster - 600 Hours of Edward

I guess what I am saying is this: I have seen a lot of Dallas Cowboys games with my father, even when you factor in the relatively few of them in the past eight years and 106 days. It will be odd to think that he is no longer here, on the day that the Dallas Cowboys play the New York Giants, who don’t stink at all. I wish my father were here. He hated the New York Giants.

I take my morning newspaper—which tells me that yesterday’s high was thirty-one and yesterday’s low was nineteen—with my corn flakes, my orange juice, and my fluoxetine. The Billings Herald-Gleaner also tells me that today’s high will be forty-one and the low will be thirty-three, but that’s not as valuable to me as the first two numbers. The first two numbers are facts; the other two are just a forecast. I prefer facts.

Judging by the Billings Herald-Gleaner , there is a lot of interest in the presidential race, which will be voted upon Tuesday, two days from today. I have not been paying a whole lot of attention to the presidential race, if you must know. Politics of any sort are hard to be interested in when you care about facts as much as I do. Presidential candidates often seem much more interested in what is known as “spin”—that is, the twisting of facts to support a position beneficial to them. This is actually praiseworthy in politics. It is considered an art form. I cannot understand that, and so rather than letting it make me crazy (a word I do not love, yet one that is accurate when I allow myself to fret about politics), I simply tune it out. I have been alive for the presidencies of seven of the forty-three presidents in this country’s history—Nixon, Ford, Carter, Reagan, Bush, Clinton, and Bush the younger—and as far as I can tell, not one of them has made much of a difference in the important things I care about: the high and low temperatures, Dragnet , Dallas Cowboys football, R.E.M., or Matthew Sweet. Although, you could make the argument that the Republican presidents inspire angrier music from R.E.M. If you wish to make that argument, I will not dispute it.

Much of the attention on this presidential race is on a man named Barack Obama, who apparently would become the first black president in United States history—although a lot of people seem to think he is an Arab. I don’t care if he’s an Arab or if he’s black. It’s not like the forty-three white men who have been president have all been great shakes. (I love the slang term “great shakes.”)

Because the Dallas Cowboys’ game does not start until 2:15 p.m., I have decided to embark on a project this morning. I am going to rate the ten greatest Dallas Cowboys games I saw with my father. I think it will be fun to count something like that, and I like remembering good times with my father.

I am not going to include Super Bowl victories among the ten greatest games. Let’s face it: The Dallas Cowboys have won five Super Bowls, and so that would take up almost half of my list right there. I wouldn’t count the Dallas Cowboys’ first Super Bowl victory, 24–3 over the Miami Dolphins in Super Bowl VI, as I was too young to have a memory of the game. I feel confident that my father watched it, as he loved the Dallas Cowboys, and because I was just a little boy, barely three years old (I was three years and seven days old on January 16, 1972, when Super Bowl VI was played), there is a good chance I was with him, but I don’t know for sure. It’s conjecture. I prefer facts.

After clearing away the breakfast dishes, I head into the spare bedroom and fire up the computer. My project flows quickly.

Game number 1: November 28, 1974

Result: Dallas Cowboys, 24; Washington Redskins, 23

What happened: Rookie quarterback Clint Longley, playing in place of the injured Roger Staubach, threw a fifty-yard touchdown pass to Drew Pearson with twenty-eight seconds remaining to beat the hated Washington Redskins and keep them from clinching a playoff berth. Clint Longley also had a thirty-five-yard touchdown pass to Billy Joe DuPree.

Why I remember it: We watched the game in Texas, with my Grandpa Sid and Grandma Mabel. My father and I had been on a road trip together, and we had Thanksgiving dinner, and we saw the Dallas Cowboys win. This is the first game I remember watching with my father. He told me after the game, “Teddy, as long as you live, you’ll never see another one like that.” I didn’t like my old nickname, Teddy, but I didn’t mind that day.

Game number 2: December 28, 1975

Result: Cowboys, 17; Minnesota Vikings, 14

What happened: This is the one that is called the “Hail Mary” game, on account of Roger Staubach’s saying that he closed his eyes and threw a prayer of a pass that Drew Pearson caught for the winning touchdown in the playoffs against the heavily favored Vikings. A lot of Vikings fans say that Drew Pearson pushed off illegally, but I think they just feel bad because they lost.

Why I remember it: After Drew Pearson scored the touchdown, my father swept me up in his arms, put me on his shoulder, and paraded me around our living room, saying, “The Cowboys are going to the Super Bowl! The Cowboys are going to the Super Bowl!” It was just conjecture at that point—the Cowboys still had to win the NFC championship game—but he was right: The Cowboys went to the Super Bowl. I just wish they had been able to beat the Pittsburgh Steelers.

Game number 3: January 17, 1993

Result: Cowboys, 30; San Francisco 49ers, 20

What happened: After a Super Bowl drought of fifteen years, the Cowboys got back in the big game by beating the hated 49ers in the muck and mud in San Francisco. The Cowboys sealed it with a long slant pass from Troy Aikman to Alvin Harper. After that, my father grabbed my shoulder and shook me and said, “That Jimmy Johnson has balls to make a call like that!” I think it was a compliment.

Why I remember it: It took my father a long time to forgive the Cowboys and owner Jerry Jones for firing Tom Landry in 1989. But when the Cowboys got back to the Super Bowl—and especially after they won it—my father buried his grudge. “You can’t stay mad forever, Edward,” he said. I thought that was very nice of him. Also, for at least a year afterward, my father would sometimes look at me and go, “Hey, Edward, you know what? How ’bout them Cowboys!” My father could be pretty funny sometimes.

Game number 4: January 3, 1983

Result: Minnesota Vikings, 31; Cowboys, 27

What happened: Tony Dorsett ran for a ninety-nine-yard touchdown on Monday Night Football. A lot of football experts think it’s one of the best runs in National Football League history.

Why I remember it: This is one of only two Dallas Cowboys losses on my top ten, but Tony Dorsett’s run was worth it. My father and I were watching the game on television, and when Tony Dorsett got loose, my father said, “He’s gonna go all the way, Teddy! He’s gonna do it! He’s gonna do it! Oh my God, he did it!” The next day, he and I played catch with the football in our front yard, even though it was a really cold day, and my father pretended that he was Tony Dorsett running for a ninety-nine-yard touchdown.

Game number 5: January 23, 1994

Result: Cowboys, 38; San Francisco 49ers, 21

What happened: For the second straight year, the Cowboys reached the Super Bowl by beating the 49ers. (They would go on to beat the Buffalo Bills in the Super Bowl for the second straight year, too.) This time, the game was at Texas Stadium. Also, Jimmy Johnson called a radio station earlier in the week and guaranteed that the Cowboys would win. “Brass balls, Edward,” my father said. “The man has brass balls.” This is also a compliment, I think.