Bullet Bob & The Cowboys

I moved to Dallas in April of 1966 living first in Irving and later in the apartments along Gaston Ave … where everyone lived. It was later that year I went to my first Cowboy game. This is how it worked back then.

This being well before the “American With Disabilities Act” there were no such things as handicap seats, parking, bathrooms or anything else. I think there was some unspoken rule that if you built something you should truck in dirt so you could build steps. The Cowboys and the Cotton Bowl had a way to deal and I soon learned how to work the system.

I drove out on Central Expressway and went into an office building that housed the Cowboy organization. Finding the right lady…I would tell her I wanted to go to the game Sunday (there were always available tickets). She would roll a sheet of Cowboy stationary into her IBM Selectric typewriter and type a letter to the gate keeper to allow me to enter. Giving her $5.00 she in return gave me the letter and a ticket to a seat in “general admission”.

Game Day

On the day of the game I would go to the south ramp entrance of the stadium…show my letter and ticket and they would let me in. Obviously wanting to sit on the Cowboys side I would make my way around the sidelines and park myself a little to the outside and 10 yards or so behind the bench. The biggest competitors for the spot were the reporters with their manual 35mm cameras. They were pretty aggressive so I was too. Inching closer as the game progressed…we were made to back up at least once a quarter.

Now this was pre-season. The annual Salesmanship game…proceeds to charity and this year with the Greenbay Packers. Across the field and warming up I could see guys like Elijah Pitts, Jerry Kramer and the “meanest man in football” Ray Nitschke. This very game was the first time a backfield ever cost a million dollars a year…adding the million each by Donnie Anderson and Jim Grabowski in their rookie year. That backfield was rounded out by Bart Starr (that years MVP) at $100,000 and Heisman winning Paul Horning at something less than that.

On the home side I was very close and spoke to guys like Don Meredith, Danny Reeves, Don Perkins and my guy Bob Lily. I would focus in on one of them for several plays and watch the effort they put in to each play. But mostly I focused on what would become the “Doomsday Defense”. They would be the very backbone of the five Superbowl appearances of the 60’s & 70’s. I am tempted to write several paragraphs about many guys on that team but there are three that night that stand out.

Two Legends

Two were the coaches. Vince Lombardi and Tom Landry. Now on that night I did not know what I was watching. To see a legend in the making is a privilege but to watch these two was a rare moment. I later read about Lombardi not only coaching this team but investing in each of their lives and how each credited him for much of their success. And what can be said about Tom Landry. This was my first encounter with him. I would later meet him at a party and then attend his public funeral with my daughter. I have never considered myself much of a fan of anyone but admit to admiring Coach Landry in all phases of his life. A true hero.

And A Third

The third guy that night was Bob Hayes. This was the beginning of his second year in the NFL and his brand was forming. His speed was not questioned but if he could apply it to football was still (in some minds) debatable. This night I watched “Bullet Bob” take a kickoff 3 yards deep in the end zone and run it for a touchdown…103 yards…only to have it called back because of a clipping penalty. While that is a highlight reel moment, what happened next isn’t. After being consoled by his team mates and coaches he sat on the end of the bench (not 10′ from me) and cried into a white towel. I don’t know why this registered in my mind so vividly but it did. He was just a couple of years older than me and I guess under enormous pressure.

The funny thing to me is that while I can remember this night very clearly, I can’t tell you who won. Being so close it took the spectator perspective away and replaced it with almost a participant point of view. It was like watching a bunch of “clips” but not the whole game.

Cotton Bowl

I think I went to 4 games that year in the Cotton Bowl…and I am glad I did. Because later in the 66 season in St Louis a young man in a wheelchair wound up in the bottom of a pile at the end of a play that spilled off the field. Broke his leg. Commissioner Pete Rozelle, the Commissioner of the NFL, issued orders that wheelchairs could no longer be on the playing field. The next year the first “handicap section” in the Cotton Bowl was created…it was top row, south end zone. Worst seats in the house.

At that 67 Salesmanship game I was interview by a reporter with a 4 pound tape recorder hanging from his shoulder and microphone the size of a zucchini squash regarding how I felt about the accommodations the stadium had made so I could attend the game. I am pretty sure he didn’t use my answer in his story.