Ha ha ha ha ha ha! 44-6?

Reptile. Billionaire. Loser.

Pardon me for a moment.

Ha hahahahahheeeheeheeheeohhohoho. Snicker.

That felt better.

Way to go, Cowboys. Another underachieving season.

They'd been teetering on the brink for the past six weeks. . . and Sunday, when they "controlled their own destiny," they couldn't even get motivated to show up against the Eagles, let alone offer them any sort of challenged.

HA HA!

Another year wasted. Another 16 roller-coaster weeks out of the lives of the devoted, hoping, just hoping, that all that Super Bowl talk would amount to SOMETHING. A playoff berth. Even a winning season (that is defined in Dallas by The Faithful as a record that gets them in the playoffs. Salt in the wounds that 9-7 just doesn't cut it).

The off-season awaits. A few months of dissecting what went wrong, followed by an ever-hopeful draft, then training camp and once again, hope will spring eternal.

Where can The Faithful lay their blame?

Romo? Sure.

T-O (Mr. Sure Hands)? You betcha.

Offensive line? What's that.

Defense? Sure over-rated in my opinion.

The rest of the sorry squad? A bunch of chest-thumping, Me-Firsters. A team? Hardly.

Coach Cupcake? Bring back Chan Gailey! Hell, Tuna was an asshole, but he got results, and players might not have liked the guy, but they shook in their boots when he looked in their direction.

Co-ordinators? The Anointed One (in charge of that powerful offense, no less)!

How about Numero-Uno--the Big Cheese. Jerry! There's a place to point a bunch of blame. Jerry, get out of the way. Hire a General Manager. Quit meddling in the team like you're the father of a high school player living out his dreams vicariously through his kid. Sure, you've sunk your fortune into this team--step back and hire folks who can manage it. At this point, your heavy had has produced NOTHING of value, and in fact if this continues much longer, you're going to actually hurt the "brand" that is Dallas Cowboys.

This is sweet. That big, new stadium. New home of the under-achieviers.

I'm lovin it. Gloating over the yearly Cowboy collapse keeps me going til the Rangers start spring training.



Hang down your head, Tony Romo!

As Lucky As Ken. . .

(With apologies to Chris Skow): If one over-under is great. . .

I'm not always so blessed, but this week I'm able to say I'm at least SOMETIMES as lucky as my friend Ken Fitzgerald, the celebrated Fort Worth rail photographer who is just as adept at photographing the 15" gauge Trinity Park kiddie railroad as he is hobnobbing with Union Pacific officials on their bidness trains.

A few days ago, Ken posted a couple shots on his website/blog, http://www.fl9.com/, shots of an over-under Union Pacific/BNSF meet at Vaughn, New Mexico, where the BNSF former Santa Fe transcon mainline crosses over the Union Pacific ex-Southern Pacific Golden State Route.

Been there, done that. Twice. And here's the results, from a spring trip in 1997. The light isn't as nice as Ken's attempts, naturally, but, hey, I've got Warbonnets AND SP bloody nose. Lucky, indeed. What's that cliche? "Luck is the detrius of preparation" or somesuch? Not in this case. Luck is just luck!

Mark the date: I've FINALLY been able to one-up Mr. Fitz!


. . . then two must be dy-no-mite!

Farewell, Ramon!

Looks like the Moustache has left the Ballpark.

Rangers utility man Ramon Vasquez has signed a 2-year, $4 million deal with the Pittsburgh Pirates. He's worth the money, having his best year yet in 2008, hitting .290.

He's a favorite around our house--not just because he's a Fort Worth native--as his very sexy thin moustache became his trademark among Ranger fans and players last year, even though he wore it only a short time during spring training. His splendid splinter happened to emerge when team photographs were taken (the same fate befell Frank Catalanatto with a spindly Fu Manchu), but a moustachioed Vasquez continued to appear on the Ballpark Jumbotron all season long. Vasquez took a bit of ribbing for this; in fact, whenever he appeared at bat, the Rangers' bullpen squad spent his at bat with a finger poised under their noses, moustache-like.


Best of luck in Pittsburgh, Ramon, and be sure to shave before photo day.