It’s time to wake up. It’s time to stop buying the $300 authentic jerseys and the $170 Starter jackets. It’s time to stop flying to Oxnard—although many of you have already made that decision—and it’s time to stop fawning over this sun-blinded space station plopped in the middle of some vacant farmland and surrounded by strip mall vacuum cleaners calibrated to suck the money out of your pockets. It’s time to stop the tours. It’s time to stop dropping triple digits just to park. It’s time to stop the sycophancy, believing that the billionaires atop this football pyramid scheme are about a single thing other than improving the bottom line.
In hiring Brian Schottenheimer, the Dallas Cowboys aren’t even trying to sell hope like other self-respecting NFL franchises. The Jones family had an affinity for Dan Quinn, allowed him to walk, and watched as Quinn roared to the NFC championship game with the Washington Commanders. They played chicken with Mike McCarthy at the bargaining table and lost him, too, only to feign interest in Deion Sanders for publicity’s sake and hire McCarthy’s offensive coordinator who was there all along.
