Dallas Cowboys Training Camp

Today is a day I look forward to every year. I'm not talking about a birthday or a holiday. I'm talking about something much bigger, much better, much more exciting. Today is the day that I will watch a bunch of 21-35 year old men put on tights and beat the shit out of each other. I know it may sound like my usual Tuesday night ritual, but it's not. Today is the day I'm going to Oxnard, California to watch the Dallas Cowboys practice.

I currently live in Los Angeles but was born and bred in Dallas, Texas. Because of this, I'm a die hard Cowboys fan. Since I live about 1500 miles away from my hometown, it is quite difficult to see my favorite players in person on gameday, but lucky for me my hometown boys train in sunny Oxnard, CA. Oxnard is about an hour and a half from Los Angeles. This would obviously make it much easier to catch, in person, Tony Romo throwing interceptions to numerous receivers.

Growing up in the '90's in Dallas made it impossible to not love the Cowboys. They were the only sports team in the metroplex that had any kind of success - unless you count the Tatu era Dallas Sidekicks, and we won't. The Texas Rangers, at least on the days that Nolan Ryan wasn't pitching, were a joke. The Dallas Stars were the Minnesota North Stars. The Mavericks were 10 years away from the Mark Cuban/Dirk Nowitzki era - the only era in which a Jew and a German worked perfectly together on anything not called a Volkswagen.

The Cowboys were our city's only bright spot. Sure, we had Edie Brickel and the New Bohemians, but those stinky hippies had nothing on Jerry Jones and Jimmy Johnson. These were the glory years. Three Super Bowls in four years, constant playoff appearances, constant division winners, constant cocaine and hookers. The 1990 era Cowboys were the most explosive the thing the city of Dallas had every seen. Well, except for that one time in Dallas when the President got his head blown off.

The Cowboys in the '90's were full of great players. Charles Haley, Bill Bates, Leon Lett, Mark Stepnoski, Darren Woodsen, Nate Newton, Jim Jeffcoat. We even had fierce animal nicknames for Daryl "Moose" Johnston and Kenny "The Shark" Gant. I mean, come on, nobody's gonna mess with a moose and a shark. That would be crazy! The only thing more frightening than that is a Moose-sharknado, which is probably what the hookers at the "white house" called it when they were selected for a Daryl Johnston/Kenny Gant menage a trois.

The roster was full of stars but none could hold a candle to the Gods that were Troy Aikman, Michael Irvin and Emmit Smith. "The Triplets" were the true Kings of Dallas/Ft. Worth. They were the men that every woman wanted to be with and every man wanted to be. Their faces were plastered on billboards around town. The newspapers wrote about them every day. They couldn't leave the house without being mobbed. They were like the Beatles, except better, because there was no Ringo.

The thing I remember the most about "The Triplets" was their famous poster. Every person who lived in Dallas in the '90's knows exactly what poster I'm speaking of. It's an iconic shot of our city's biggest superheroes - Troy, Michael and Emmit - on the sidelines of Texas Stadium, facing away from the camera, arms around each other, looking out onto the field.
#8 Aikman
#88 Irvin 
#22 Smith
Every kid has that "aha" moment where they realize the things they loved more than anything in life takes a backseat to their true passions. My "aha" moment came when the muscular asses of Troy, Michael and Emmit replaced the furry face of ALF on my bedroom wall.

Now we all know good and well that the Cowboys are not the same as they were back then. In the '90's, they were loved by the fans and feared by their opponents. Now they're laughed at by both. It used to be whenever I wore a Cowboys shirt, people would walk by and shout out, "Go Cowboys!" Now when I wear a Cowboys shirt, people walk by and shout out, "Go change!"

I used to feel proud to be a Cowboys fan. Now I feel sad. So sad in fact, I've decided while writing this that I'm no longer going to training camp. Who wants to keep living in the past and remembering all that glory days from many years ago? It's pathetic to think of days long past. Now, if you excuse me, I have to go watch my VHS tape of the 1996 Super Bowl.

Happy Birthday to Me!

My birthday is July 21st, this coming Monday. I will be (insert lots of numerals here) years old. I have always loved birthdays, especially my own. Remember when you're a kid and your birthday is the greatest day of the year. Well, that, Christmas/Chanukkah or the day that your camp takes a trip to Six Flags.

As you get older, the magic of a birthday isn't the same. You start to mature and realize that celebrating your birthday might make you seem like a douche. Hell, I still love my birthday but it really is a douchey thing to send an e-vite telling your friends to meet at a bar that you would never go to if it wasn't your bday and have them buy you drinks. Last year, I went to a bar that I have only been to once... five years ago on my birthday.

I totally understand how a birthday isn't a big deal anymore. As a child, it's one of the only things you have to look forward to every year. As you get older, there are lots of exciting things to look forward to - pay day, vacations, quality time with the girlfriend and dogs, the new Woody Allen movie - all the great things in life.

As you grow up, a birthday is just "another day." When I was younger, a couple friends of mine and I wrote a terrible screenplay about a man who is depressed about his upcoming birthday and decides to live the day like he's a kid again. He leaves work, plays miniature golf, drives a corvette, orders the biggest sundae you've ever seen at a fancy restaurant and finally asks the girl out that he's been pining for his whole adult life. There's also scenes where he reconnects with his brother, has weird flashbacks about the shoes his father used to wear and has a come to Jesus moment while on a golf course with Robert Loggia.

The point of that movie was supposed to have you look at your birthday in the same way you did as a kid. Take advantage of the one day a year that is solely for you. There is no other day where that happens. Your birthday is you and you alone. You have to share Christmas/Chanukkah, Valentine's Day, Fathers Day/Mothers Day, Secretaries Day, New Years, Halloween, Thanksgiving, MLK day, Simchat Torah, 4th of July, Boxing Day, The Super Bowl, The Oscars, Labor Day, Memorial Day and the day the new Iphone comes out.

I can't do something big for my birthday every year, I know this. This year, I'm going to take it easy - make some dinner at home with my lady, open a nice bottle of wine that we labeled 07-21-14, watch a movie, cuddle on the couch with the dogs, and listen to my girlfriend fake snore when I attempt to make out with her.

Taking it easy on my bday might be a sign of things to come. Maybe I'm maturing and realizing that I don't need to go all out every July 21st? Maybe I'm just done with the hassle of planning and executing the "great day of birth?" Maybe I'm like Danny Glover in the Lethal Weapon franchise and am "getting too old for this shit?" Maybe, nowadays, the most fun thing I can do is be with my girlfriends and the dogs watching movies instead of bumping elbows with strangers in a crowded bar? Maybe it's because I need to rest my old bones for the huge Las Vegas party I'm already starting to plan for next year's birthday? Yeah, that's it.