The Romo Years

Many people have theorized as to why we watch sports. Not just our favorite teams, but all teams, all the time. What possesses people to watch portions of every NFL game on Sunday? Or the NCAA tournament in its entirety, featuring teams and players they've never heard of. So many games, most of which we won't remember even a couple months after they happen. The popular answer to this question seems to be: to see the unexpected. It never ceases to amaze how many new things can happen in a sporting event that has been played millions of times -- take the last day of baseball season, for example. As sports fan, we want to see moments like that, moments that will probably only happen once in our lifetime. In order to see these type of moments, we sit through hours of uneventful games to make sure we don't miss anything.

But these moments don't always have to be of the spectacular ilk. It's not talked about enough, but I think a lot of people watch sports to see failure too. Not just the rival team or a particular player, but teams or players who seem to be prone to failing. This is why I think Tony Romo is good and necessary for sports. He's a polarizing player that shouldn't be polarizing. He's a hated athlete that, unless you're a Dallas Cowboys fan, shouldn't really be hated. He's judged either too fairly or too harshly and is the sole reason for a Cowboys' win or loss. He tight-ropes the line between good and bad better than any current athlete in professional American sports. It's fun to watch Tony Romo because he's going to give us those coveted spectacular moments, and also because it shuffles us one game, or even one quarter closer to one of his ultimate meltdowns.

Romo seems to be a good guy. He's never in trouble off the field, he's never ran into the stands and punched someone, and he's never insinuated that sports fans were jealous and miserable people. From what I gather, Tony Romo is hated because he's talked about often. Someone so prone to failing, I think, in the minds of many sports fans, doesn't deserve the time of day. Then there's the other side, who feel Romo is unfairly targeted for his team's failures. It's true that quarterbacks tend to receive the brunt of the blame regardless, but these people look for reasons to bash Romo. For instance, a three interception day could be interpreted as trying to make something out of nothing (an exceptional will to win), rather than fucking up and blowing his team the game. Both sides have an argument, of course.

Tony Romo played one of his quintessential games against the Lions last week. He moved the Cowboys offense down the field at will, connecting with Dez Bryant for Dallas' two touchdowns in the first half, and a third to Jason Witten three minutes into the second half. The Cowboys were up 27-3 and it looked to be a route. It looked to be a route, but those who have watched Tony Romo know better. He promptly threw a Pick-6 on the very next drive. But this Pick-6 was almost too good to be true. The defender was linebacker Bobby Carpenter, current Lion, former Cowboy, and a groomsman in Romo's wedding. Something like this could only happen to Tony Romo and serves to further the mythology surrounding his collapses. Romo throws another Pick-6 on the very next possession and you know where this is going. The Lions are back in the game, score a couple touchdowns of their own, Romo throws another pick at the end of the game and the Cowboys lose. Romo's final line: 34-47, 331 yds, 3 TD, 3 INT, 86.4 QB Rating -- all of his good work in the first half negated.

Performances like this are why Romo can navigate his way through any realm and remain compelling. He can be whatever you want him to be. Use the "Nickname Test" to further this point. Some nicknames could only work for certain players, think Dennis "The Worm" Rodman or William "Refrigerator" Perry. There is nothing distinct about Tony Romo. He's exceptionally good and bad. Here are six random things I just thought of:

Officer Krupke
Hydrogenated Fish Oil
Love Potion No. 9
Stay Gold, Ponyboy
The River Kwai
Anschluss

All six of these could conceivably be nicknames for Tony Romo. Think of six nicknames of your own and they will work just as well. Isn't this what Romo is all about? He cannot be packaged and sold to the masses in the form of a cute, all-encompassing moniker. Pepsi Max used Romo as their spokesperson and failed because they tried to capitalize on his tendency to make mistakes. The commercial was meant to be absurd and came off as plausible:  



In an age where labels are slapped on players seemingly from Day One, Romo defies all categorization. This is what makes him such a compelling sports figure. Dissecting Tom Brady's dominance eventually becomes boring, as does cracking on the futility of the 1990s Clipper teams. Romo keeps us on our toes, with him, there will always be something to talk about and something to see. Fittingly, none of us know what he is yet -- we just know his teams are going to lose when it matters.

Why Don't You Like Me?

Maybe I'm wrong, but it seems that the younger generation, which I still consider myself to be a part of, has an unhealthy obsession with being hated. Perhaps this this just a poor reflection of the people I associate with and am trying to distance myself from, but I can't go on Facebook or sometimes even Twitter without someone mentioning their "haters." Whether these haters are perceived or real, I'm going with perceived 99 percent of the time, is besides the point. I blame rap music. (Just kidding).

For one to be hated, at least in the context of this younger generation, is usually the result of having achieved success in life. The "haters" are jealous of success and turn to bitterness and hatred of others as a way to mask their own problems. This is by no means a new concept, just one I feel is being flipped around and used as a badge of honor nowadays. I don't think 1950s businessmen gauged their success by the amount of negativity surrounding them, but I also wasn't alive in the 1950s.

The so-called normal people's (by that I mean not rich or famous) claims of being hated usually fall on deaf ears. Let's use my life as an example. I spend hours of my day reading books and Internet articles. I hand-write an unfinished novel in my former high school and college notebooks. When I'm not writing in those notebooks, I stare at the computer screen and think of sports-related things to write on this blog. I own one pair of jeans and about 8-10 T-Shirts. I have a medium-sized record collection, half of which was inherited. No one in their right mind would waste their time being jealous of me.

However, being hated is something the sports fan knows all too well. Miami football. Duke basketball. Yankees baseball. Cowboys football. Big-Three Heat basketball. Ask fans of these teams how kindly they're received. Chances are fans of these teams probably start to enjoy the hate after a while. Save for the still-in-the-process-of-trying-to-win-it-all-Heat, all of these teams have had tremendous success in the past. There are certainly other factors that contribute to the hatred of them and their fan base, but it all starts with success. No one cares about a perennial loser.

Since so many "normal people" gravitate towards sports, it seems natural that one's affiliation with a sports team is probably their only hateable offense. I've always wanted to know what this feels like. The closest I ever felt to hatred because of the team I rooted for was sophomore year of college. I went to school in Wisconsin and the Bears went to the Super Bowl. I wore my Bears hat like a scarlet letter. The Bears went on to lose the Super Bowl, so the joke was kind of on me in the end. The Cubs exist as a mere punchline. Outside of New York, the Bulls teams of the 90s were more revered than hated. 

I think this year's Wisconsin Badgers have a real chance of being the college football team everyone loves to hate. College football teams like Miami, Ohio State, and Notre Dame will always have their fair share of detractors regardless of how good they are, but hatred in sports moves in cycles. When the constants are losing, the public needs a new whipping boy. For Wisconsin, I think all the necessary elements are there for a one-year hatred period.

Take a look at Wisconsin's schedule. Now think of a sexually inappropriate joke to signify how easy something is. Their non-conference schedule includes home games against UNLV, Oregon State, and Div. 1-FCS's own South Dakota, and a game against Northern Illinois at "neutral" Soldier Field. Given the size of Wisconsin's fan base, number of alumni who live in Chicago, and the close proximity to Madison, this is basically another home game. Wisconsin doesn't face a true road contest until October 22nd in East Lansing! Add in the uncertainty surrounding Michigan State, Ohio State, and Penn State's programs, and it's very possible a home game against Nebraska, the fifth game of the season, will be Wisconsin's only roadblock to an undefeated season. Indiana, Purdue, Minnesota, and Illinois are well-dressed punching bags. People love to hate on team's with easy schedules. Especially those god-forsaken SEC supporters.          

Viewers of the Big Ten Network will remember the above commercial well. It's notable now because half of the featured coaches have since been canned, and for just how creepy Joe Paterno is. Would you entrust your child's future with this 84-year-old man? I thought this was supposed to be a promotional tool...You'll notice Bret Bielema sporting his patented Bielema voice.

"Big Dubyah. On the helmet."

"Alrighty, boys. Let's run the pigskin up the gut now. Woo-boy is it a good day for football."

Bielema grew up on a hog farm in Prophetstown, a tiny city in northwest Illinois. "I always chuckle because I came from a town of 1,800 people," Bielema once said. "But I had 2,500 pigs on my farm." If there's a better person to represent the state of Wisconsin and the Midwest as a whole, I can't think of anyone. During his time at Florida, head coach Steve Spurrier used to play with the dumb southerner stereotype. "Well, aww shucks, guys," he'd say. "I'm just slingin' the ball 'round, not worried bout scorin' no heap a points." He ran up the score on opponents and played dumb while doing so.

"We're just playing Wisconsin smash-mouth football," Bielema says. Bielema may just be the Midwest version of 90s Spurrier. Score points, a lot of them, and then rationalize it in the form of regional colloquialisms. Bielema already has the reputation of being a bit of a prick in that respect. The Badgers scored 201 points in their last three games of last year, including 83 on Indiana. They scored 70 or more in three different games. The motivation for this seemed to be because they could. People don't like when teams show up lesser opponents, and if his previous years at the helm are any indication, there will be plenty of that this year from Bielema.

Wisconsin wins the old-fashioned way. Run the ball (preferably 50 times a game), draw up a few intermediate passing routes to keep the defense honest, win the special teams battle, and play reasonably stout defense. There's nothing pretty about this kind of football unless you enjoy seeing 12 yard runs up the middle for six straight minutes. Plenty of people, including myself, love to see a good rushing attack pan out, but plenty others, especially neutrals, want to see the ball fly more than two times every drive. People hate to see boring win, and Wisconsin wins in boring fashion.

To recap: college football appears to be in need of a team to hate this year because the traditionally hated teams probably won't figure prominently in this year's national title race. Wisconsin has many of the necessary elements to make a team worth hating. They have a pathetic non-conference schedule and possibly a weak conference schedule as well. They have a coach with a reputation for running the score up, who represents the Midwest a little more strongly than anyone outside the Midwest is comfortable with. And Wisconsin does not play an exciting brand of football. Get your tomatoes ready.

There's only one thing left to say:

The Cowboys Aren't Who We Thought They Were

Cowboys head coach Wade Phillips was fired yesterday. Finally. His termination was like the last couple weeks of a woman's pregnancy. You know it's coming, and soon, you just don't know when. (By the way, sorry for using termination and pregnancy in the same sentence).
Phillips' firing comes as a surprise to only those who believed Cowboys owner Jerry Jones, who said two days before that Phillips was safe for at least the remainder of the season. Owners like Jones speak of accountability, which apparently doesn't apply to a person's word only two days before.
I'm not here to defend Phillips or question his firing. When a team, regardless of their stature, is in disarray, something needs to be done. The head coach is the captain that goes down with the ship. All is right with the post-1995 world, the Cowboys are no good.
Unfortunately for him, Phillips is the fall guy for an undisciplined and underachieving team that is composed of talented individuals, but has no idea how to coexist as a team.
This year's Cowboys remind me of England's 2010 World Cup campaign. England was supremely talented in every position, boasting most of the EPL's best players. Individually they were great, as a team, they were terrible.
After England's 0-0 draw with Algeria, former American national and current ESPN analyst Alexi Lalas proclaimed what everyone was thinking. When asked what was wrong with England, he replied, "How about this: they're just not very good."
The weight had been lifted off of his shoulders and the smoke screen disappeared. Lalas and the rest of the non-English analysts could finally express their opinions frankly about the overrated English team. Phillips' firing is the icing on the cake for the removal of the "Cowboys are really good" veil.
Many fans including myself felt that maybe the Cowboys just had trouble closing out games. With Romo as the starter, they lost all five of their games by seven points or less. I also desperately wanted to believe that beating the Cowboys in Dallas was a big win. The Cowboys are and have been officially Bills status. That win means nothing now.
If Jerry Jones wants to talk about accountability he has to first look at the players on the field. Romo, not exactly thought of as a clutch player, couldn't lead his team to victory in the aforementioned close games.
Number one wide receiver Miles Austin has been wildly inconsistent. In his four good games: 36 catches for 571 yards and two touchdowns. In his four bad games, 9 catches for 86 yards and no touchdowns. Austin either shows up big or doesn't show up at all.
The running game and offensive line have been nonexistent. The Jones-Barber-Choice "three-headed monster" has combined for 543 yards and two touchdowns. DeMarcus Ware is supposed to be the leader on defense and appears to have a difficult time keeping his focus for an entire game. The Cowboys' secondary can't keep their hands off the opposing receivers.
Wade Phillips has been on a roller coaster ride for the past three and half years. From the highs of a 13-3 regular season his first year and the Cowboys' first playoff win since 1996 two year later, to the lows of a 1-2 playoff record and 45-7 trumping in Green Bay, Phillips can finally get off the ride. He'll walk through the Exit Gate with a 35-24 overall record as Cowboys head coach.
It's no wonder Phillips always had a confused, "What am I looking at?" face. He never had any idea which team was going to show up on the field. Unfortunately for him, this year it was always the bad one.
As the anti-Denny Green might say, "The Cowboys aren't who we thought they were."