Free 600 Hours of Edward by Craig Lancaster Page B

like professional football, although I can’t know for sure without taking a scientific poll, and I already have The Big Project.
    Also, my father grew up in Dallas, and his parents—my Grandpa Sid and Grandma Mabel, who are both dead now—were very good friends with Tom Landry, who used to be the Dallas Cowboys’ coach. Tom Landry is dead, too. The only time I saw my father cry was the day Tom Landry died. He didn’t cry when Grandma Mabel and Grandpa Sid died, at least not that I saw.
    Tom Landry must have been a very good man.
    In 1978, when I was nine years old, my father took me with him to Dallas on a business trip. I mostly stayed with Grandpa Sid and Grandma Mabel while Father did his business. He worked for an oil exploration company then, and he was in charge of its Montana and North Dakota operations, which is why we lived in Billings. He didn’t become a politician until a few years later, after the oil business “went in the crapper,” as my father likes to say. By then, he had made a lot of money and didn’t need to be in the oil business anymore. He was a Billings city councilman for a while and then mayor of Billings and then Yellowstone County commissioner.
    But back in 1978, when he took me to Dallas with him, he was still in the oil business. One day, when he didn’t have meetings, we went to Irving, where the Dallas Cowboys work out. I got to meet Tom Landry and Dan Reeves, who was an assistant coach with the Cowboys at the time and later went on to be a head coach in places like Denver and New York and Atlanta. I also got to meet Roger Staubach, who was the Cowboys’ quarterback and my favorite player. I also met lots of other players, and they all signed my autograph book. I still have it.
    It was a great day. I felt very close to my father then.
    – • –
    Before the Cowboys start playing, I haul the stuff from Home Depot downstairs to the basement and organize it in the order that I will need it later. I can’t start The Big Project just yet. There’s not enough time before the game, and I have to prepare. For one thing, I have to grab the newspaper off the stoop and record my weather data so it is complete.
    – • –
    At 2:16 p.m., I am sitting on my couch, facing the TV, agape. (I would say I like the word “agape,” but I don’t like anything right now.) My authentic white Tony Romo jersey—I also have a blue one for when the Cowboys wear those—has been stripped from my torso and is in a wadded ball in the middle of the living room.
    It was horrible.
    First, not having Tony Romo is going to be tougher than I thought. His replacement, Brad Johnson, did not do well today. He threw three interceptions. Tony Romo also throws manyinterceptions, but he throws a lot of touchdown passes, too. Brad Johnson threw for one touchdown. That is not enough.
    Second, the Cowboys’ defense was terrible, and Tony Romo doesn’t play defense, so I don’t see how anyone can use his absence as an excuse.
    The St. Louis Rams’ running back, Steven Jackson, ran for 160 yards and three touchdowns against the Cowboys. That was not Tony Romo’s fault.
    Third, I think the Cowboys are not as good as they think they are. They have lost three of their past four games and now have a record of 4–3. Even when Tony Romo was not hurt, they were not playing so well.
    Fourth, the Cowboys lost 34–14.
    If I kept data on the quality of a day, and I’m thankful now that I do not, this would no longer be the best day ever.
    – • –
    Ordinarily, I do not write my letters of complaint until just before I go to bed, but I think that I need to do it earlier today so I can clear my mind and concentrate on The Big Project.
    I have a thick green office folder of letters to Dallas Cowboys owner Jerry Jones.
    Mr. Jones:
    I am sure you know why I am writing to you today. Your Dallas Cowboys played pitifully against the St. Louis Rams, and I have begun to fear that they will not make the playoffs. After all, Tony