America's Team, But My Team No More.

I've loved the Dallas Cowboys since childhood. I guess I picked up the team when they were winning and heralded, during the silver Staubach/Landry years. I stayed true when other teams were winning, reveling in the Danny White triple threat (although the team wasn't much of a threat to win), and remember feeling every concussion as Troy Aikman worked to survive a season with no offensive line.

I loved the Cowboys, in that childish "I root for this team, and my commitment is one of those things that define me" sports-fan loves. I wore hats with the star on 'em. I had Cowboy sweatshirts, coffee mugs, bumper stickers. All that stuff that you receive from friends and relatives when they don't know what to gift you, but they think of you when they see the memorabilia in the store and they buy it for you because you're the biggest Cowboy fan they know.

I loved the Cowboys. I root against them now.

September 24, 2000. The team was in a slump after the Aikman/Emmit decade, and were only going to show a 5-11 record. The 49'ers were beating them up at home that Sunday. Terrell Owens, the 49'er showboat-big-mouth caught his second touchdown pass of the game and ran to the star at midfield to celebrate, again, as he had on his previous touchdown. George Teague flew off the bench, and butt-struck the incredulous Owens. I stood and shouted for George Teague, my heart bursting with pride. The comeuppance was poetic, so well deserved; Teague's ejection from the game for the hit only underscored his moral victory. Eight years later, ESPN named the moment one of the ten most memorable in the history of Texas Stadium. Eight years later, no Cowboy fan seems to remember it.

Owens failed in San Francisco, then pissed himself in Philadelphia. No player should show the disrespect for his teammates and coaches that he's shown, and still play the game. No player could show the disrespect for the Texas Stadium star that he did, and play for the Cowboys. But here he is, with a 5 million dollar signing bonus. The disloyalty.

Jerry Jones, you remember George Teague, don't you? I wanted someone to remember that day. I wanted a press conference saying, "While T.O. has some skill, we simply won't hire him here. In a state that remembers the Alamo, his day on the star was an Alamo for Dallas to remember, and never forgive."

I want America to have an America's Team, and as long as there is a winner, America will have their team. Americans have short memories. But I have a memory. I want George Teague. I want a team I can believe in. This team is no longer one that deserves my loyalty.

Conspicuously Absent: The Chapter on Cache Hiding

I’ve finished the first draft of my book on geocaching. Tentatively titled “A Passion for Cachin’”, it’s about my life through the lens of geocaching. Wow. I feel like I’ve really accomplished something, and that 17,000 finds actually has meaning beyond the logbooks and trade items. I was able to get it all out of my head: the experiences and the reasons this hobby/sport/obsession can be so compelling. I have chapters on geocaching as adventure, entertainment, education, annoyance, friendship, and therapy, among others. Look for it this spring!

Yes, I'm feeling snarky. EMC's a great person. But the one who digs the well deserves more honor than the one who drinks from it. Keep it up, Cache Hiders everywhere. You make the geoworld spin.

You Know You Want To, But You Can't.

An exercise in patience, futility, whatever. But I could not be fooled. I could not be coerced.