By Jim Schutze
By Rachel Watts
By Lauren Drewes Daniels
By Anna Merlan
By Lee Escobedo
In its final years it had a dingy roof, mysterious puddles of standing water and very mediocre tenants, but Texas Stadium should be remembered as the site where legends were born and championships were celebrated. It deserved to lie in state in some grand rotunda before being transformed into a gigantic museum, or at least one of those places adorned with a historical marker.
But, alas, Texas Stadium went up in smoke as a revenue-generating, cheesy public-relations stunt.
"I'll always love that place and I'll always have the memories," Staubach said back in the fall. "But it's time to move on. Texas Stadium had a great life, but it's over."
Likewise, Modano's shelf life has almost assuredly expired. He'll turn 40 in June, is without a contract for next season and has accomplished everything possible in his sport.
Said Modano of his final home game, "It certainly felt like the end."
It just won't be the same around here without No. 9 and that giant, white hamburger at the intersection of Highway 183 and Loop 12. No local team has ever boasted a player who stuck around for 16 years. And no local team has won more than one championship except for the Cowboys, who captured five while playing inside Texas Stadium.
At some point, the Stars will make a run at another Stanley Cup. And, yes, somewhere in the future Cowboys Stadium will outlive its usefulness and be demolished.
But there will never be another Mike Modano. And there will never be another Texas Stadium.
Cue the chill bumps.
Pass the Kleenex. And the Kraft.