This Dallas Cowboys football season has been like receiving professional massage. It is a luxury to which I am not accustomed. I know that it will end eventually, so I am merely trying to enjoy the bliss while it lasts.
The Dallas Cowboys took care of business yesterday, defeating the rival New York Giants at AT&T Stadium to move to 6-1 on the season. In light of what the Giants usually do to the Cowboys in their home, the 31-21 final was especially enjoyable.
The offense did what it has been doing all season. It racked up over 100 yards rushing, converted nearly 60% of its third downs, and made timely plays in the passing game. For (thankfully) short stretches of the game, the defense looked like it had last season, giving up sizable chunks of yardage on passes in the middle of the field. This, of course, has always been the most tenuous aspect of the fairy tale season. While many analysts have already dubbed the Cowboys “for real,” the lessons of being both a Mets and Cowboys fan exist too deep within my psyche. Will it be the Cardinals? The Eagles? I don’t know, but I assume that eventually, a team will exploit the Cowboys defense. The hope is that the offense is good enough to carry it.
I screwed up my math last week. The Cowboys are now 4-0 when Madison wears her t-shirt. It is now hanging – inside out – from the doorway entering Madison’s room. I have not worn my shirt since Week 1, and Lynnette has not been allowed to wear her shirt at all. “So Lynnette hasn’t even worn her shirt yet?” my brother Paul asked me yesterday. I replied with an incredulous “No.” Incredulous because why the hell would he ask such a silly thing? “I know,” Lynnette said sarcastically. “I’ve been really looking forward to wearing it, too.” I don’t know if she meant that part or not, but it doesn’t matter. She’s not wearing it until such a time when the Cowboys decide it is necessary. There have been calls – from the female members of my family – for the shirt to be washed. Whenever this happens, I want to respond with a “You guys don’t understand anything about sports, do you?” but I am trying to maintain the good vibes surrounding this season. Consequently, I simply and politely decline those requests.
I made the dubious decision to wear my glasses instead of using my contacts yesterday. “Why are you wearing glasses?” Lynnette asked as we left our house for my parents’. “I don’t have to wear sunglasses,” I said. “Yeah, but the rain’s going to keep getting on them,” she replied. She was right. And, as soon as we left the comfort of the Highlander’s air conditioning, my glasses fogged up so badly that I couldn’t see. Good job by you, Phil.
Well, the dullness of the sky and constant rain brought on by Hurricane Ana lulled my father and his dog into a state of unconsciousness well before the end of the game. Perhaps a delicious lunch had something to do with it, too, but that’s neither here nor there. Before long, Matty was horizontal on the couch, also fighting the good fight. I have to be honest. I would have joined them if I wasn’t so emotionally invested in watching America’s Team fend of the pretenders in red, white, and blue.
We decided to run errands in the rainstorm, and it looked like a bunch of other people did, too. Target was packed. While we didn’t find the all-weather jacket promoted in the weekly ad (for Madison), we did manage to score Boo Berry and Franken Berry cereal. Acquiring both seasonal cereals is a fall/Halloween tradition. So is plowing through half of each box in a few days before quickly tiring of the novelty. Three is every chance that both boxes will still be sitting on our fridge when Madison and I are on winter break. I want to justify my behavior, but I don’t see a way. Confession: I JUST WANT TO EAT THE MARSHMALLOWS. This is the equivalent of Lynnette’s snack purchases. What General Mills really needs to do is make a double pack featuring half-a-bag each. That way, I will actually finish the cereal. Alas, I fear General Mills knows exactly who their demographic is (nostalgic adults who don’t have time for breakfast, anyway) and will gladly pump out these spooky cereals every Halloween season for all eternity. And I will gladly buy them and sort of eat them.