This morning, I am afflicted with Tony Romo Disease: A particularly nasty virus that leaves a writer dazed, confused and all but paralyzed.
There are so many ways to go with a Dallas Cowboys morning-after-the-train wreck article, I find myself staring at the keyboard.
There is so much to say, I find myself dumbfounded.
I could suggest to the mayor of Detroit that he present Tony Romo with the key to the city. And why not? Romo handed the keys to Cowboys Stadium to that beaten down city’s NFL football club. When the Lions could do nothing to help themselves, Romo provided that helping hand the Motor City has so long needed.
I could suggest to Jason Garrett that he pull Romo in the fourth quarter if his team has the lead and play him if the team is down. And why not? What QB has equal flair for single-handedly blowing big leads and guiding unlikely comeback victories?
I could float the theory that God is holding Jerry Jones to that deal he glibly joked about making with the Almighty in order to get that third Super Bowl win in the ’90s. Jones told that one on a 60 Minutes interview a year or so back.
On a similar note, I could muse as to whether Cowboys Stadium is cursed in some way. Think about it: After watching Texas A&M blow a 35–17 halftime lead, did you think there was any way in the wide world of sports a team could have a bigger meltdown on that very same field that very same weekend?
I could defend Tony Romo as the Cowboys’ best option at quarterback.
Or, I could finger Romo as the primary reason the Cowboys will not enjoy ultimate success any time soon.
Either way, I would be right.
Instead, since I am speechless, numb, dumbfounded and bewildered, I will let the inimitable Bob Costas say for me exactly what I was thinking…
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