Becoming Bradie's Bunch
Brad Sham - Email
DallasCowboys.com Columnist
November 22, 2006 4:01 PM Change Font Size A A A A
IRVING, Texas - Here goes the bulk of my scientific knowledge:
Nature abhors a vacuum.
That's not meant to describe my gender's housecleaning habits. It means voids are filled, one way or another and like it or not.
There's a leader in every pack, and it's not just because the followers are lazy. It's because no group endeavor can go without someone at the helm. When the Oceana flight went down over that island, Doctor Jack stepped forward to take charge. If he hadn't, someone would have. (Probably not Sawyer, but I don't mean to get Lost.)
In 1970, your Dallas Cowboys were a 10-year old NFL franchise that had never won anything. They lost a Monday night game to St. Louis to fall to 5-4 and were given up for dead. Fans, media, other teams, coaches all thought the season over. Only Cowboys players saw any reason to keep coming to work. They rallied around each other and went to the Super Bowl for the first time in team history.
The players on that team will tell you none of that would have happened without the leadership of middle linebacker Lee Roy Jordan. Bob Lilly and Roger Staubach were the team's stars, but Jordan was its nerve center and conscience.
Someone needs to arrange Lee Roy Jordan an introduction to Bradie James. He might like to see the capable hands in which his legacy has been placed.
OK, fine, we are guilty of premature matriculation. This Cowboys team has not graduated to the Super Bowl. They haven't even reached the playoffs. Heck, they just got two games above .500 for the first time all year heading into the annual 3:15 p.m. (CST) Thanksgiving Day game at Texas Stadium, and for the first time against Tampa Bay.
But hey. We're in a world where a quarterback who's played four NFL games is being proclaimed a Pro Bowl player. (And don't just blame The Dallas Morning News for hyping Tony Romo to sell papers. Joe Theismann said it Monday on ESPN.) Not saying Romo won't deserve it at the end of the year, but it feels a little like we're getting ahead of ourselves.
(As an aside, Cowboys coach Bill Parcells at least publicly agrees. Asked at his Tuesday media briefing if he'd ever had a player touted for the Pro Bowl after playing four games, Parcells sighed and said, "No, but we're living in a different world now, we really are. I mean, it's a joke, it really is." Not Romo's candidacy, he meant, but the notion of it after four games.)
Romo's effect on his team is real, to the point of being nearly tangible. It affects the perspective of defensive players, too. And the same is true of James.
Bradie James is not yet Lee Roy Jordan. Jordan was a first-round draft choice, No. 6 overall. He went to five Pro Bowls, was twice All Pro and is in the Cowboys' Ring of Honor.
James was a fourth-round draft choice four seasons ago who took three years to become a starter. But once he did, it was obvious he wasn't coming out. It's no accident he was signed over the summer to a contract extension through 2011.
My partner on the Cowboys' radio broadcasts, former all-star safety Charlie Waters, remembers his first impression of Jordan in Waters' rookie season. In the spring of 1970, at a minicamp, Waters recalls Cowboys head coach Tom Landry turning over a rookie meeting to Jordan.
"It was the first time Coach Landry had done that, given a meeting to a player," Waters recalls, "and he never did it again while I was there. But Lee Roy was the strongest leader the Cowboys had in the 12 years I played for them. He had a persona of toughness, he got it done on the field, and everyone listened to him. At that meeting in '70, he explained the frustrations of what the team had been through, the pride the veterans had, how important it was to believe in Coach Landry. He told us what it takes to be a pro."
Leaders like Jordan come to their positions because of fierce competitive fire, ability on the field and the sheer force of will. That's why old No. 55 needs to meet new No. 56.
When James was a senior at LSU, the defense was named after its middle linebacker: The James Gang. Cute, but with a reason. He couldn't assume that role as a pro, however, until he figured out the game. That happened last year, near midseason, when Dat Nguyen came out of the lineup for good with a neck injury. James' play picked up noticeably with his added responsibility. Then-teammate LaRoi Glover commented just about a year ago that even the other players could see James' light switch coming on.
And once that happened, James could assume the role for which he admittedly feels naturally suited, the role of leader.
"It's not my first time in a leadership position," James said after Monday's practice, and he says it in the most un-prepossessing way.
There is almost a total absence of braggadocio or arrogance.
"I guess it's just something I was born with," James continued. "It was that way in high school. I don't go outside of myself to do this."
Maybe that's the key, because when a player proclaims himself to be the leader (see Quincy Carter, training camp '04), it means he isn't. Jordan never said it. Troy Aikman never said it. Bradie James doesn't proclaim it. It just is.
Somehow, at some point late last season, James became the media go-to guy, the one who stood up every day, not once a week, in the locker room to look straight at you and answer your questions directly. He earns the right by what he does on the field, and what he does on the field gives him the right to stoke the sideline fires when they need stoking.
Sunday's game against the Colts was a perfect example. If you've watched a bit of football, one thing you could see in a hurry was that the Dallas defense was interested in playing. Several of them contribute to the atmosphere: Aaron Glenn, Roy Williams, Terence Newman. It's James who gets them going.
When the Cowboys grabbed the lead for the first time Sunday, it was James rallying the defenders on the sideline, reminding them, none too gently, of the task at hand. In today's NFL, a fourth-year player is a seasoned vet and can take command.
Parcells quickly acknowledges his linebacker's leadership skills, saying Tuesday, "He gets it. He has that. The good thing about this football team is, their sensitivity level is pretty well gone by now. They can say anything to each other."
In the heat of athletic battle, that's what's required. It's not all encouraging, "Hey, fellows, chins up, we can do this!" Sometimes it takes a boot up the butt, and if you don't respect who's delivering it, you don't respond.
James believes the key is that "we don't have two or three guys carrying the load on this team. At one time or another we've got eight, nine, 10, 11 guys, all of scratching to make that play."
Those of us (yes, guilty as charged) who believed the Cowboys would be good this year because of their defense are particularly encouraged by recent trends. Points are down, takeaways are up. There is a growing sense of purpose permeating the defensive huddle. Its ringleader is Bradie James.
Lee Roy Jordan hasn't met Bradie James yet. But he ought to be very proud of what he's doing.
DallasCowboys.com Columnist
November 22, 2006 4:01 PM Change Font Size A A A A
IRVING, Texas - Here goes the bulk of my scientific knowledge:
Nature abhors a vacuum.
That's not meant to describe my gender's housecleaning habits. It means voids are filled, one way or another and like it or not.
There's a leader in every pack, and it's not just because the followers are lazy. It's because no group endeavor can go without someone at the helm. When the Oceana flight went down over that island, Doctor Jack stepped forward to take charge. If he hadn't, someone would have. (Probably not Sawyer, but I don't mean to get Lost.)
In 1970, your Dallas Cowboys were a 10-year old NFL franchise that had never won anything. They lost a Monday night game to St. Louis to fall to 5-4 and were given up for dead. Fans, media, other teams, coaches all thought the season over. Only Cowboys players saw any reason to keep coming to work. They rallied around each other and went to the Super Bowl for the first time in team history.
The players on that team will tell you none of that would have happened without the leadership of middle linebacker Lee Roy Jordan. Bob Lilly and Roger Staubach were the team's stars, but Jordan was its nerve center and conscience.
Someone needs to arrange Lee Roy Jordan an introduction to Bradie James. He might like to see the capable hands in which his legacy has been placed.
OK, fine, we are guilty of premature matriculation. This Cowboys team has not graduated to the Super Bowl. They haven't even reached the playoffs. Heck, they just got two games above .500 for the first time all year heading into the annual 3:15 p.m. (CST) Thanksgiving Day game at Texas Stadium, and for the first time against Tampa Bay.
But hey. We're in a world where a quarterback who's played four NFL games is being proclaimed a Pro Bowl player. (And don't just blame The Dallas Morning News for hyping Tony Romo to sell papers. Joe Theismann said it Monday on ESPN.) Not saying Romo won't deserve it at the end of the year, but it feels a little like we're getting ahead of ourselves.
(As an aside, Cowboys coach Bill Parcells at least publicly agrees. Asked at his Tuesday media briefing if he'd ever had a player touted for the Pro Bowl after playing four games, Parcells sighed and said, "No, but we're living in a different world now, we really are. I mean, it's a joke, it really is." Not Romo's candidacy, he meant, but the notion of it after four games.)
Romo's effect on his team is real, to the point of being nearly tangible. It affects the perspective of defensive players, too. And the same is true of James.
Bradie James is not yet Lee Roy Jordan. Jordan was a first-round draft choice, No. 6 overall. He went to five Pro Bowls, was twice All Pro and is in the Cowboys' Ring of Honor.
James was a fourth-round draft choice four seasons ago who took three years to become a starter. But once he did, it was obvious he wasn't coming out. It's no accident he was signed over the summer to a contract extension through 2011.
My partner on the Cowboys' radio broadcasts, former all-star safety Charlie Waters, remembers his first impression of Jordan in Waters' rookie season. In the spring of 1970, at a minicamp, Waters recalls Cowboys head coach Tom Landry turning over a rookie meeting to Jordan.
"It was the first time Coach Landry had done that, given a meeting to a player," Waters recalls, "and he never did it again while I was there. But Lee Roy was the strongest leader the Cowboys had in the 12 years I played for them. He had a persona of toughness, he got it done on the field, and everyone listened to him. At that meeting in '70, he explained the frustrations of what the team had been through, the pride the veterans had, how important it was to believe in Coach Landry. He told us what it takes to be a pro."
Leaders like Jordan come to their positions because of fierce competitive fire, ability on the field and the sheer force of will. That's why old No. 55 needs to meet new No. 56.
When James was a senior at LSU, the defense was named after its middle linebacker: The James Gang. Cute, but with a reason. He couldn't assume that role as a pro, however, until he figured out the game. That happened last year, near midseason, when Dat Nguyen came out of the lineup for good with a neck injury. James' play picked up noticeably with his added responsibility. Then-teammate LaRoi Glover commented just about a year ago that even the other players could see James' light switch coming on.
And once that happened, James could assume the role for which he admittedly feels naturally suited, the role of leader.
"It's not my first time in a leadership position," James said after Monday's practice, and he says it in the most un-prepossessing way.
There is almost a total absence of braggadocio or arrogance.
"I guess it's just something I was born with," James continued. "It was that way in high school. I don't go outside of myself to do this."
Maybe that's the key, because when a player proclaims himself to be the leader (see Quincy Carter, training camp '04), it means he isn't. Jordan never said it. Troy Aikman never said it. Bradie James doesn't proclaim it. It just is.
Somehow, at some point late last season, James became the media go-to guy, the one who stood up every day, not once a week, in the locker room to look straight at you and answer your questions directly. He earns the right by what he does on the field, and what he does on the field gives him the right to stoke the sideline fires when they need stoking.
Sunday's game against the Colts was a perfect example. If you've watched a bit of football, one thing you could see in a hurry was that the Dallas defense was interested in playing. Several of them contribute to the atmosphere: Aaron Glenn, Roy Williams, Terence Newman. It's James who gets them going.
When the Cowboys grabbed the lead for the first time Sunday, it was James rallying the defenders on the sideline, reminding them, none too gently, of the task at hand. In today's NFL, a fourth-year player is a seasoned vet and can take command.
Parcells quickly acknowledges his linebacker's leadership skills, saying Tuesday, "He gets it. He has that. The good thing about this football team is, their sensitivity level is pretty well gone by now. They can say anything to each other."
In the heat of athletic battle, that's what's required. It's not all encouraging, "Hey, fellows, chins up, we can do this!" Sometimes it takes a boot up the butt, and if you don't respect who's delivering it, you don't respond.
James believes the key is that "we don't have two or three guys carrying the load on this team. At one time or another we've got eight, nine, 10, 11 guys, all of scratching to make that play."
Those of us (yes, guilty as charged) who believed the Cowboys would be good this year because of their defense are particularly encouraged by recent trends. Points are down, takeaways are up. There is a growing sense of purpose permeating the defensive huddle. Its ringleader is Bradie James.
Lee Roy Jordan hasn't met Bradie James yet. But he ought to be very proud of what he's doing.
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