by Nick Eatman
The real problem, though, was back at Valley Ranch, as the storm had knocked out all power. By the time some twenty carloads of players had returned, there was still no electricity in the building. The players, coaches, and the entire travel party needed to shower, change, and get dressed for their trip to New York.
With the Cowboys’ operations crew scrambling to find generators and some portable lights for the bathrooms so the players could get ready, the team managed to be only a few minutes late to the scheduled 2 p.m. charter flight that afternoon.
For the most part, the consensus among the travelers was more just being annoyed about the shortened week. Friday is one of the few nights that the players get to relax because they’re typically out of the building early in the afternoon. For veterans with families, such as tight end Jason Witten, Friday night is the one evening during the season that they get to spend the most time with their wives and children.
So leaving early for New York wasn’t exactly received with open arms initially. But once the players got to the Big Apple, hopped on the ferry that took them into the city, and started to see and experience their surroundings, what was once considered to be an inconvenience seemed to all be forgotten.
Decked out in suits and ties, a group of about one hundred people, including players, coaches, equipment managers, trainers, video staff, and some in-house media members, toured the breathtaking memorial at Ground Zero.
Some of the rookies on the team, like receiver Lucky Whitehead, were just eight years old when the Twin Towers fell. Still, players young and old all paid their respects during the tour. Whether it was a video display inside the elevators that changed with each floor level, or the powerful “Voices” tribute that showed some of the survivors telling their own personal stories of that unforgettable day, the night was powerful in many ways to many people.
Yet, none of them really knew the purpose for the event.
Sensing that, Garrett grabbed the microphone following the team’s private dinner, which was held inside the observatory, and provided the reason … and much more.
“The question is … why are we here? My wife, Brill, and I came here this summer in July. I wasn’t here ten minutes, I was standing in front of the Voices video, and I said, ‘We’ve got to take our team here.’ It was one of the great tragedies in our country’s history—September 11, 2001. This memorial is to commemorate that; it’s impossible to do it better. So simple and elegant and really, really well done …
“That’s not why we’re here.
“I know it’s impossible to do the elevators any better. You stand in, look forward, and you’re going to go up and they’re going to give you the history of New York City in forty-two seconds. You’re going to see buildings go up and go down. It’s the most amazing thing I’ve seen in my life …
“That’s not why we’re here.
“The view, three hundred sixty degrees around this unbelievable city. There’s no better view on the planet than this view. One hundred and two stories up, looking at New York City from every angle …
“That’s not why we’re here.
“When we came here in July, I went into that Voices area, and I think it’s meant for people to just walk through it. I took about three steps and I stopped. I watched it again and again and again. I couldn’t move.
“The reason we’re here is those voices and what those people said. I stood there and thought about us and thought about our football team. The expression I use with you guys all the time is ‘mental toughness; be your best regardless of circumstance.’ There was some circumstance that day.
“As I stood there for twelve minutes, and then watched them again for twenty-four minutes, I thought about this night and those voices. I think about the people. That’s why we’re here. This place is incredible. The elevators are incredible, the view is incredible, but think about the voices and think about the people.
“The foundation of this place is bedrock, but really the foundation is people. Just remember why we’re here. And live it.”
Bone-chilling speeches like that have become a trademark for Garrett. His postgame words, after both victories and defeats, are part of the reason his players say the coach they know is vastly different than the often poker-faced persona that the public sees on the sideline.
The human element of Garrett comes out from time to time, and he put it on display during this Friday night in New York. No, it’s unlikely his players could possibly feel the connection he has to the city and the 9–11 tragedy, but that wasn’t his point.
On this night, Garrett wanted his team to realize that it’s not about physical things or surroundings, but rather the people. He didn’t want them to play for money or play for accomplishment. He wanted them to play for each other.
Clearly, the head coach was pulling out all the stops here. Not only did he make a change at quarterback, but sending his entire team up a day early to experience the memorial was another way Garrett was trying to motivate his troops.
And for a while on Sunday afternoon, it seemed to work. The offense was a bit more productive behind Matt Cassel, but not appreciably better. Joseph Randle ripped off two impressive rushes for twenty-four yards before suffering what appeared to be a rib injury, prompting the running back to take himself out of the game. Surprisingly enough, while the initial issue didn’t seem to be that serious, Randle never returned.
Not then, not ever.
The Cowboys didn’t miss him, though, as Darren McFadden not only took over, but with a blend of speed and power, showed some glimpses of last year’s sensational season by DeMarco Murray. McFadden went for 152 yards rushing, but still the offense was showing its warts.
Cassel threw three interceptions, including one returned for a touchdown in the second half. Still, the veteran managed to tie the game midway through the fourth quarter on a pass in the end zone to a diving Devin Street, evening the score at twenty.
Unfortunately, the game stayed tied for only about twelve seconds. That’s how long it took for former Cowboys’ return specialist, Dwayne Harris, to show his old squad why they should’ve re-signed him in free agency just a few months earlier. Harris was a do-it-all special teams ace who could return kicks, cover kicks, and even play wide receiver on offense. Instead, Dallas decided to keep Cole Beasley, giving him a contract worth $3.4 million per season. Beasley’s rapport with Tony Romo was well documented, but with the starting quarterback out, Beasley’s numbers had dipped in 2015.
Enacting his revenge, Harris broke the game open with a 100-yard kickoff return for what proved to be the winning touchdown.
This Cowboys defense, which had stopped quarterback Eli Manning and his Giants all night, now saw their efforts wasted by a special teams gaffe. That didn’t sit well with many of the club’s defensive players, yet only Greg Hardy actually said something, walking into the Cowboys’ special teams huddle as they prepared for the ensuing kickoff return.
With fire in his eyes, Hardy exploded, trying to encourage the unit to perhaps return the favor. But the intrusion wasn’t welcomed, especially considering that he had approached players who were still pissed off after allowing a touchdown.
Special teams coach, Rich Bisaccia, isn’t the biggest of men, standing only around 5–7, but he’s afraid of no one. He told the 6–4 Hardy in no uncertain terms to get out of his huddle, prompting Hardy to slap a clipboard out of the coach’s hands.
That’s when Dez Bryant, who was missing his fifth straight game with a foot injury, tried to intervene and hold Hardy back. In reality, it was two aggressive, animated players in each other’s face, trying to out-yell the other one to get a point across. But it came across on television as another heated and embarrassing incident for two players who looked like they were fighting.
What the Fox TV cameras didn’t see, however, was Hardy approaching Bryant just a few minutes
later with a slap on the back, gesturing a thank you for helping him avoid an even bigger media firestorm.
Most importantly, of course, the Cowboys couldn’t overcome the late touchdown. The offense turned the ball over on downs in the final two minutes and then Beasley fumbled away a punt, adding salt to the wound for Cowboys fans, who had to be wondering just why the team chose to keep Beasley over Harris back in the off-season.
When the game ended, Garrett shook hands with Giants head coach, Tom Coughlin, at midfield, but had little interest in meeting with anyone else. Head down, stone-faced as usual, Garrett made the slow, methodical walk to the team’s dressing room.
He had switched quarterbacks. He had altered the travel routine. He had tried to inspire his players with a message about team, unity, and an importance of purpose.
Nothing was working, the Cowboys having just lost their fourth straight game. But what Garrett couldn’t fathom was that before things would get better, they were going to get much worse.
Chapter 10
COMING UP SHORT
Friday
Rest can be nurturing for the body and mind. But after too much time away from their craft, even football players and coaches can get a little stir crazy.
That’s why when Jaydon McCullough was informed on Sunday evening, October 25, that his next game would be moved up from Friday to Thursday due to weather concerns, it didn’t faze him much. In fact, the ever-intense, ready-to-battle head coach actually preferred the schedule change.
“Our kids need to get back out there,” McCullough said. “We’ve had a week off. We’re rested. We didn’t mind the move.”
Now, had the Wildcats not had a bye week leading up to this change, and/or been fighting for a playoff spot, his mindset might have been different. Regardless, the change in schedule called for an altered practice regimen, speeding up the preparation process and cutting into some of the team’s workout time.
But there was another change on the practice field that week, and for the players, it was music to their ears. Literally.
The Plano coaching staff pumped music through the speakers of the indoor facility in attempt to lighten the mood during practice and possibly break up the monotony of normal sessions that include nothing but whistles, coach-speak, and regular player chatter.
While the tunes didn’t drown out the coaches entirely, the range of music, which was handled by Chris Fisher, gave the players a chance to get back into the groove, so to speak.
Fisher is an extreme music buff with an uncanny ability to recite a wide range of lyrics—from Merle Haggard and Willie Nelson of the country western era long before he was born in 1975, to Tupac Shakur and Snoop Dogg from his high school and college days, to even today’s teenybopper hits from Justin Bieber and Taylor Swift. The latter might have something to do with him having three daughters, but without question, Fisher was the right coach for the task, as he controlled the music using the hundreds of songs in his iPod.
“I make sure we’ve got the clean versions out there, of course,” Fisher said. “But, we mix it up. A lot of the guys like rap, but I’ll throw in some 1980s hair band groups like Def Leppard and Van Halen. The kids give some weird looks to the eighties stuff, but the coaches love it. And really, it’s a great bond sometimes between the players and coaches.”
Nonetheless, the players welcomed the change, and according to the coaches, they had crisp, intense practices that week. Some of the assistants were fearful the music might be more of a distraction, but in this case, it had the opposite effect.
Even twenty years ago, changes to a football schedule just four days before would have been more difficult to announce. Before the Internet and long before social media, the simple method of “word of mouth” might not have been enough to spread the message that a game was being moved up one day.
In today’s world of cell phones, text messages, Twitter, and Facebook, such scheduling changes can be posted in minutes. That’s why the stands on Plano’s visiting side looked as strong as ever, despite the recent change, playing on a school night, and the team’s elimination from playoff contention.
Then again, this is Plano, where the Wildcats have been the fan favorite since 1900, when the first official high school team was formed in the city.
In fact, Plano had just as many, if not slightly more, fans than the home squad of Edward S. Marcus High School in Flower Mound, another area suburb, which not only owned an 8–1 record, but was playing its last regular-season game, having a bye week the following Friday. That meant it was also senior night on the other side. Still, the Wildcats’ contingent of fans made the trek over from Plano, hopeful for an upset.
Running back Lopaka Yoro, who stands exactly five feet tall, certainly doesn’t have big feet. But before the game, he had a rather big problem as he got to the visiting locker room and realized his cleats weren’t in his equipment bag.
Quickly, he got on the phone to catch his parents before they made the 30- to 45-minute drive over, hopeful they could bring him a pair of size seven cleats for the game. Now, the team will have extra pairs of shoes for situations like this, but just not in Yoro’s size.
About an hour before kickoff, the running back was nervously awaiting his parents’ arrival when he spotted a pair of shoes sitting inside the locker that he was temporarily using. For most high school games, the visitors dress in a locker room used by the host school’s JV or freshman squads. In the same locker assigned to Yoro sat a pair of cleats, probably from one of Marcus’ freshman players, and they were a size seven, fitting Yoro perfectly.
Ethically, it might not have been the right thing to do, but kickoff was just minutes away. The odds that there were shoes in this locker room at all seemed unbelievable, much less finding ones that would fit his undersized feet. Thankfully for everyone, though, Yoro’s parents arrived just in time with his regular cleats, and he was able to keep the random shoes in the locker in which he found them.
Unfortunately, when the game finally started, Plano’s defenders looked as if they were wearing sandals, at least in the first quarter. Despite the week off, the rejuvenated attitudes of many of the seniors and the music in practice to invigorate their spirits, the Wildcats couldn’t have looked any flatter at the start of the game.
Marcus jumped on Plano with two long touchdowns early, and then pushed the lead to 21–0 before all the fans had even arrived at Marauder Stadium.
The once-enthusiastic group of youngsters, who had had so much hope and optimism earlier, now sounded more like a Sunday morning congregation at church. There was little chatter, no fire, and no intensity. With so much time remaining, the game had all the makings of the Allen debacle from five weeks earlier that ended with a 65–0 loss.
However, against Allen, the Wildcats never got Brandon Stephens into the flow of the offense. That didn’t happen this time around as Plano kept feeding the ball to their workhorse running back, and before too long, the Maroon and White had made a game of it, trimming the lead to 24–10 at halftime.
Still, Jaydon McCullough wasn’t happy—with anyone. Not the players, not his assistants, and not even himself. Typically, the coaches wait outside the locker room for his initial halftime meeting with the players, but McCullough purposely had all of the coaches inside the walls for this speech.
“Guys, I’ve failed you,” McCullough said with the same passion and intensity he regularly displays on the sidelines each week. “We, as coaches, didn’t get you as prepared for this game as we should have. As the head coach, I’ll take responsibility for that. But we’re not playing as well as we can, either. We can play better. We can coach better. And that’s exactly what we’re going to do in the second half.”
And that’s exactly what they did. Thanks to the hardnosed running of Stephens, who finished with 236 rushing yards, the Wildcats clawed all the way back. Stephens’ 25-yard touchdown r
un with 5:15 to play tied the score, 31–31.
But Stephens never got another carry. Marcus marched the length of the field and chewed up all but twenty-six seconds of the clock before kicking a 37-yard field goal that proved to be the game winner.
As the players and coaches walked off the field, the mood was different. There certainly wasn’t joy or elation, but a sense of pride and accomplishment was definitely felt.
“We’re not about moral victories,” McCullough said on his postgame radio show before echoing similar words to his players. “But, I’m proud of the way they fought. Proud of the way they battled to the end. We played a very good team tonight and had our chances to win. We came up short, but I think we took a big step in the right direction.”
Of course, this is the same guy who keeps a photo of himself with the Wildcats’ three state championship–winning head coaches on a wall above his desk. It’s not just a cool photo of him with Gerald Brence, Tom Kimbrough, and John Clark, but also a reminder of the standard that has been set at Plano.
McCullough hopped on the bus knowing his team’s 3–6 record wasn’t sitting well around the community and perhaps even within the higher-ups in the district.
So what would a 3–7 final record look like if we don’t win next week against Lewisville?
McCullough wasn’t sure about the answer to that question. And he certainly didn’t want to find out.
Saturday
Art Briles is a man of many sayings and witty catchphrases, including quite a few that he gathered while growing up, going to school, and later beginning his coaching career in West Texas.
One that he uses often is “we don’t apologize for winning.”
He doesn’t concern himself with style points, or covering the spread, or how the game unfolded. If his team won, he’s happy—end of story.