Other players who stand out in Pearlman’s book are Haley, a “tragic and victorious” defensive end whose exploits can’t be repeated in print, and linebacker Robert Jones, one of the lone Cowboys to not give in to the temptation of celebrity.
“Jones is my favorite guy in a lot of ways. Here’s someone with a hard-scrabble background, who just wanted to have a family, to look under a Christmas tree and see presents for his kids,” Pearlman said. “And he wasn’t a great football player. A good one, yes. But football was simply a way to have his dream come true.”
On a team that partied like it was New Year’s Eve every day of the week, Jones was the subject of “peer pressure and ridicule few have probably ever experienced,” Pearlman said. But in a redemptive touch at the end of the book, two of his biggest tormentors — Irvin and offensive lineman Nate Newton — apologized to Jones after their playing days and commended him for having his priorities in the right place.
It’s those shades of gray that will either lead football fans to condemn the Dallas organization out of sheer spite or write the behavior off as “boys being boys” more than a decade later.
But could a team as outlandish as the ’90s Cowboys exist today? Because of the NFL’s personal conduct policy and the rise of fast-spreading Internet blogs charting athletic extra-curriculars, probably not, Pearlman said.
Also, as the perceived villainy of current Dallas players Owens, Adam “Pacman” Jones and Tank Johnson proves, “the public is more judgmental of our athletes today. I think maybe we have higher expectations than we used to.”
