By Jim Schutze
By Rachel Watts
By Lauren Drewes Daniels
By Anna Merlan
By Lee Escobedo
By Eric Nicholson
"When you guys hit the ball, don't just stand there and look at it," Parcells joked. "You fuckers like to admire your work too much."
Despite Parcells' improved outlook, the only true believers in a Cowboys post-season are the same nimrods who refer to three straight away games in the NFL as a "road trip." To lead Dallas to a Super Bowl, Romo would have to overcome the worst pedigree of any big-game quarterback in NFL history: Division I-AA. Undrafted. Zero professional success. And, as if we didn't have enough to worry about with T.O.'s sleepy head, now it's his slippery hands.
After three and a half seasons under Parcells, the Cowboys are what they are: An undisciplined team with a .500 record.
Don't fret. Dallas is on the verge of two discoveries that, regardless of record, would make this the most productive season of the millennium:
Romo might be the quarterback of the future.
Parcells might be a thing of the past.
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