Emmitt Smith talks about researching his family heritage on Oprah...





Power of progress. It's a shame this country takes it time in getting over racism and it's sickening to think at some point in time this BS was common in this country. Makes me feel a little ashamed. I am just glad I live in today's world, and not back then.   

Not sure how long these will stay up on Youtube because Oprah has her thumb on the world people!

So if she don't want this on Youtube it will be gone.

It sounds like Miles Austin isn't all that tech savvy and I wonder if the kid even has laptop, lol.



Perez Hilton - Weirdo! IPad, lol. The Jersey Shore fist pump, LMFAO!

At the 1:26 mark pause it.

Is that Romo in the background? Gotta be right. Hat backwards and looks like he has a decent golf swing.

Good to know the Cowboys had some conversations with Golden Tate at the Combine...

Golden Tate on Sirius NFL Radio

He's going to produce in the NFL. When you can make plays like he did with heart and determination, not to mention the size and speed, it's going to translate on the next level.

The Cowboys will not have a shot at him late in Round Two. So either they have no options at LT or Safety when they come up at #27 or they trade back up into the early part of Round Two to grab him.

Since he played in a Pro style offense at Notre Dame I think he's going to be more 'game ready' than a lot of the WR's coming out this year who are not accustomed to running precision routes. If there are a bunch of teams thinking he can step right in and play the slot WR or maybe even win the #2 job in training camp he's a goner in round one.

The WR position is always trickier come draft time.

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Jerry Jones is promoting the big fight this at Cowboys Stadium this weekend...



Eisen. Good to see you Mr. Jones. Eisen is a good guy.

Hmmm. So Bill Parcells got him into Manny Pacquiao. Cool.

Jerry doing big things with Cowboys Stadium.

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Here's Jay Ratliff on DFW Sportsbeat with Brady Tinker...



The Cowboys need to find another NT to challenge Junior Savaii who create a little more from that position.

Ratliff is coming off some elbow surgeries and that's a sign that his body could use more time off during the season.


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By Matt Mosley

Should the Cowboys replace Ken Hamlin at safety?

Ken Hamlin has recorded just one interception in the past two seasons.It's hard to believe it has already come to this point with Hamlin, but it has. He played himself into a lucrative contract extension with a Pro Bowl season in '07. Now, he appears to be the only weak link on the Cowboys' defense. Quite simply, he doesn't make enough plays to warrant the money (six years, $38 million). And the Cowboys also have to make up their minds about Gerald Sensabaugh, a restricted free agent with a second-round tender. There are a lot of teams needing a safety (see the Eagles), but I think Jerry Jones will likely match an offer unless it's for ridiculous money. He's not going to let Sensabaugh join an NFC East rival.

I'm hearing that the Cowboys believe that safeties Nate Allen (South Florida) and Taylor Mays (USC) aren't that far apart in terms of talent. It seems like Allen has a lot more range from what I've seen, but starting a rookie at safety is a risky proposition. I think a better option might be Oshiomogho Atogwe of the St. Louis Rams. He's a restricted free agent who received the lowest-possible tender. The 29-year-old Atogwe is coming off a right shoulder injury, but he's been much more productive than Hamlin since '06 with 18 interceptions and 14 forced fumbles. Over that same period of time, Hamlin has nine interceptions and two forced fumbles.

When I talk to secondary coaches, they tell me that safety is the toughest position for a rookie to learn in the NFL. The Cowboys know what it's like to play without a reliable starting safety and it's not something they want to revisit. If you can't get a significant upgrade over Hamlin, you might be better off giving him one more season.

This is the first year in forever that I’m not attending spring training as a member of the media. I thought I’d be a bit twitchy, missing the sun and laid-back atmosphere and the sound—a truly sweet sound, cliche be damned—of baseball hitting glove.

But I’m not twitchy. It was time. Truth be told, it was time many years ago. When I first started covering the game for Sports Illustrated in the mid-to-late 1990s, spring training was my favorite thing in the world. The magazine rented out condos in Tampa and Tempe, and a rotation of writers would stay for a week or two. It’d be me, Tom Verducci, Steve Cannella, Dan Habib, Jamal Greene, Mark Bechtel, a little Phil Taylor or Steve Rushin tossed in. I dug waking up early, driving to, say, Pirates or Reds camp, eating breakfast with the local writers, then casually strolling into a clubhouse. It wasn’t like the regular season, when ballplayers hid. No, in spring people are still feeling good. Need Shawn Green? Just go get him—he’s sitting there reading a magazine. Want some time with Gary Sheffield? Well, join him for breakfast. No biggie.

You’d be done by—at the absolute latest—4; free to spend the evening having a nice dinner, catching a movie, whatever.

So what changed for me? To be honest, I simply grew tired of chasing around athletes. Especially athletes who were significantly younger than I was. I can’t explain this very well, because I’ve never met a journalist who shares this take. But I no longer felt the joy in jotting down the words of some half-brained 22-year-old reliever for the Tigers who wouldn’t even look me in the eyes. The splendor of spring was tarred by the weight of spring. I began to think of it not as a rebirth, but a return—to boring baseball cliches and never-ending games and an increasingly arrogant generation of players.

So here I sit, in Cosi, happy.

Plus, it’s 55 degrees. 

PS: Funny spring story. Went to dinner with Phil Taylor in Arizona one night. We were at the table, ordering our food, when out of nowhere the waitress started telling us about the loose lips on her vagina. Now, when I talk or e-mail with Phil, I ask him how his vagina lips are doing.

Pacquiao and Mayweather: One Bout Away from the Big One?

Click here for my story in TIME.

As the 2010 draft approaches, we have been focused on bringing you Mock Drafts, various Cowboys' potential draft picks, and articles on draft strategy. Sometimes, though, the most effective way to predict the future is to study the past. In determining which path the Cowboys may take come April, we have provided you with a "blast from the past"-- the top ten Cowboys' draft classes of all-time.

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Back when I was in elementary school I had a teacher named Mrs. Hart. She was a mean old lady—probably 5-feet tall, with wrinkly skin and a hair bun as tight as a latex glove. She was one of those teachers you absolutely feared. Ask to use the bathroom and you were met with a stern look. Whisper to a neighboring classmate and it was off to the principal’s office. Mean, mean, mean.

Roughly six or seven years after I left her class, Mrs. Hart died. She fell asleep on her couch while smoking a cigarette. The material caught on fire, she didn’t wake up—over. Gone.

At the time, I wasn’t sad. I hated Mrs. Hart, and had no sympathy for her plight. Now, as an adult, I’m horrified by that. Maybe Mrs. Hart was lonely. Maybe she was in an abusive marriage. Maybe she had cancer. Who knows? But, generally speaking, when someone’s an ass, there’s a reason for his assitude. I often cite something my father once said. We were taking a family trip somewhere, and at the time Dad’s business was dissolving. A certain employee was rumored to have been talking much shit about my father (the most decent man I have ever met). My mom said, “It just makes me so mad that she’s saying this stuff, after all you’ve …”

Dad wouldn’t have any of it. “We don’t know what she’s saying,” he said, “so I’m going to assume she’s saying nothing at all.”

I guess it’s not the exact same thing, but in a sense it is. We never, ever, ever truly know what’s in another person’s mind; or how they’re thinking; or what they’re feeling.

So my dad always tried to imagine the best. I try (and often fail) to do that, too.