This week the buzz in DFW has been all about Tony Romo. The Cowboys (ex) quarterback announced on Tuesday he’s giving up playing football to explain it to us on TV.
When I drove to work Wednesday morning the sign in front of Cowboys World Headquarters, The Star in Frisco, was lit with a simple white background and a huge number 9 in honor of Romo, the quarterback Cowboys fans have loved to blame for ten years of postseason frustration.
The blame is unfair and we know it but it’s okay because we love him like a brother.
Despite an interception here and a butt fumble there, Tony Romo gave Cowboys fans more thrills and high hopes than anyone ever expected. When he won he shared the credit, when he lost he did it with dignity and grace. When his body was crushed by blitzing giants he got up off the turf without complaint.
I arrived in Dallas five years ago. I’m late to the party but I get it. There’s more to Tony Romo than football. He’s the not-quite-perfect-but-close-enough guy we’d all love to be:
He’s a self-made Everyman with a storybook background, a jillion dollars, a beautiful, devoted wife and adorable kids.
He’s a fit, good-looking guy but still kinda dorky.
He loves the Dallas Cowboys and always will.
In a society that glorifies athletes beyond reason and too often makes excuses when they sometimes break laws, behave badly or just can’t keep their toxic egotistical opinions to themselves it’s nice to find the guys we can still admire.
Everybody’s wondering if Tony will be successful on CBS. I can’t imagine how he can fail.
Tony is Tony, and that will play as well in the Heartland as it does in North Texas.
As famous, wealthy athletes go there is no more typical guy than Romo. I can easily imagine him as my next-door neighbor, pushing a lawnmower Sunday after church and then inviting me in for a burger and a beer to watch the Cowboys game.
What makes Tony special is his success in being extraordinarily ordinary.
— Dave Williams, April 6, 2017