Bootlegs and Saddles

By Tom Callahan

Cowboys, Oilers, passing quarterbacks, passing times

The discontent in Texas at both ends of the National Football League seems to center on quarterbacks but may also relate to passing times. Dallas was "America's team" as the country went western and cactus came to flower, when the majority of Charlie's Angels hailed from Texas, like the trashiest pulp novels and soap operas, and Easterners put up their own Lone Star cafes for two-stepping in boots and Stetsons.

Houston was the home town of the Urban Cowboy, a ghost town in that sense now. The country-and-western boom has gone the way of the Oilers, who in the words of Fullback Earl Campbell (originally of Songwriter Merle Haggard) have gone the way of "a snowball rolling downhill headed for hell." Halfway through the season last week, the Oilers had lost them all.

A sturdy team just three years ago, Houston recalls the spark of its demolition as the 1980 firing of Country Coach Bum Phillips, whose fame, in the opinion of Owner Bud Adams, had become excessive. When the prairie was in fashion, Phillips was both Will Rogers and the Marlboro man come to life. On every other billboard in Houston, he recommended pointy-toed boots made out of everything from ostriches to anteaters to dead dogs in the road.

Now that the wave has passed, Phillips is having a fine time in New Orleans, employing rickety old Oiler Quarterback Ken Stabler joyfully in the process, while Houston contemplates 15 losses straight. The second Oiler coach since Phillips, Chuck Studley, says bafflingly, "We're certainly still in a position to go either way." Since Studley has been in charge scarcely three weeks and is yet too new to boo, the Houston Astrodome patrons have been brutalizing Quarterback Gifford Nielsen. They prefer Oliver Luck, Nielsen's wonderfully named understudy. Few players on any football team are as highly regarded by the public as the back-up quarterback.

In Dallas, his name is Gary Hogeboom, "Boom" to his teammates. Although this dashing 6-ft. 4-in. figure from Central Michigan has been on the premises four years, his only significant appearance came during the last National Football Conference championship game at Washington, after Starter Danny White was knocked unconscious in the first half. Hogeboom rallied the Cowboys dramatically, and while he ended up throwing two fatal interceptions, he put people in mind of the dear, departed Roger Staubach. Since Staubach retired, Dallas and White have lost three N.F.C. championship games in a row.

At midpoint last week, the Cowboys had the league's best record, seven consecutive victories before a narrow loss to the Los Angeles Raiders. A quarterback controversy on a nearly undefeated team must say something about the appetite of the local fans. But there have also been unattractive reports of Cowboy players animatedly getting their hopes up when White stumbles in practice. Against the Raiders, White ran with the ball, threw it, caught it and, when the regular punter was injured, kicked it. Considering the variety of services he provides, White has a right to feel unappreciated, though Tom Landry has been supportive.

The only head coach in the 24-year history of the franchise, Landry is the real quarterback of the Cowboys in more than a figurative sense. He calls the shots and the plays. Landry has not said so, but there is a sense that this season might be his last. "We have a chance to win them all," he told the players a few weeks ago. "Why don't we?" They were stunned. What ever happened to "Win them one at a time"? A number of the veterans-- Defensive Linemen Harvey Martin and John Dutton, Wide Receiver Drew Pearson, Linebacker Bob Breunig--are long enough in the tooth to wonder how many more chances they will have. Until Washington and San Francisco at the end of the schedule, Dallas' path is exceedingly smooth.

At the start of the season, Landry's message to the team had been "If we don't win a single game, we're going to get rid of this drug problem." By N.F.L. standards, their problem was moderate. No indictments, but the names of five prominent players came up via a federal wiretap at the trial of a Brazilian cocaine smuggler. At the same time, the Houston Oilers have had two incidences of possession. So in Texas drugs have been added to the holy coordinates of football: a religious coach, sideline sex, boots, North Dallas Forty, jeans, Semi-Tough, barbecue sauce, insurance, computers, oil and (on third down) shotguns. Before the game last week at suburban and palatial Texas Stadium, former Cowboy Quarterback-turned-Broadcaster Don Meredith was missing the seedy and inner-city Cotton Bowl, where the Cowboys used to play, and generally lamenting the passing of time. "I made up a saying once," he said. " 'All we gotta do is go down to Neiman-Marcus and buy us a pound of culture and twelve talents.' The attitude was, whatever you want, just go to Neiman's and buy it. They had it right there on the shelf. I think Texas Stadium is Dallas' attempt to buy a pound of culture and twelve talents."

Meredith expressed no low-down country sorrow, however, for quarterbacks. "The higher you climb the flagpole," he said, "the more people see your rear end." Now, that is Texas.

--By Tom Callahan This file is automatically generated by a robot program, so viewer discretion is required.