Ready to take huge handoff
A liberal dose
September 02, 2007
Original A liberal dose article: Ready to take huge handoff
The question isn't halfway posed when Stephen Jones shakes his head and says, 'I don't want to even think about it. That will be such a sad day that I don't want to go there.'
The day will come, though, when Stephen will run the Dallas Cowboys. The Cowboys are a family business. A Jones business. There will be a day when Stephen will replace Jerry. As owner. As general manager.
'I really hate to think about it. But one day my day will come, and I'll be ready for it,' Stephen said. 'If I ever got the job, the first thing I'd say is, 'I'm not Jerry Jones. I'm going to do some things different than he would.''
For 18 years, since his father bought the Dallas Cowboys, Stephen has been the son off to the side. At 43, he's the chief operating officer, executive vice president and director of player personnel, and he does more than people realize. Seldom craving credit, Jones has earned a respect that was slow to come and has established himself as something more than Jerry's oldest child.
'I don't think he has to pay anything [more]; I think he's there,' said Arlington mayor Bob Cluck, who has worked closely with Stephen since they met in 2002 to discuss the possibility of moving the Cowboys to the area.
'In due time he'll step into his own as far as the CEO of the Cowboys. He will do a fantastic job with them. He's done everything to get ready.'
Jerry's boy
Stephen isn't ignorant to the things that have been said and written about him. A local columnist once noted Jerry should have been working a fictional trade that included 'a Stephen to be named later.'
The perception is because he's Jerry's son, he's had everything handed to him.
He doesn't deny that being the son of wealth has perks -- all his life he has known luxuries most will never know, and his father takes most of the heat when things go wrong. But it also has its pitfalls, both real and perceived.
Sons and daughters of wealth and fame are often overshadowed by their famous parents for a lifetime.
'You'd never know who his dad was unless you knew. You never knew he had anything the other kids didn't have,' said Roy Davis, who coached Stephen on the Catholic High School football team in Little Rock, Ark., and later coached Jerry Jones Jr.
'He wasn't a snotty rich kid or anything like that. I think that was one of the reasons he was such a good leader for our team.'
But when Stephen entered into business with his father, he would have to work harder and endure snickers and behind-the-back comments that only work and success would quiet.
'Absolutely you have to deal with that,' Stephen said. 'I don't think I could have gotten that type of respect, and that would be in my craw. I know it's there. What gives me peace is that people you work with -- [with the new] stadium, people in this league or top business leaders in Dallas-Fort Worth -- think I've been able to get respect. That is important.
'I know there are sons and daughters of wealthy people who don't get that respect.'
Today, 18 years into the NFL, Stephen has respect. Just not much credit. He can live without the latter. The former? Not so much.
Because his father is so visible and his own role is by nature mostly peripheral, Stephen is seldom seen. His achievements are infrequently documented, cherished or criticized.
When the Cowboys signed Michael Irvin, Troy Aikman and Emmitt Smith to good but not 'great' contracts in a pre-salary cap world, Stephen orchestrated the deals.
'People would tell you this, but the one you want to negotiate with is Jerry, not Stephen,' said Rich Dalrymple, longtime Cowboys director of public relations. 'Jerry may get sentimental about things, whereas Stephen will drive the hard bargain.'
Stephen does contracts. He manages the salary cap. He brokers sponsorship deals and trades, and handles player personnel decisions and Texas Stadium issues. When the Cowboys decided to push for a new stadium, Stephen was instrumental in working with Dallas city officials before he moved on to Arlington. The same with the Super Bowl bid.
'When I have a problem with the stadium, he's the first guy I call,' Cluck said.
People who know realize what he does. For instance, he often acted as the communicator between his father and former coach Bill Parcells.
'Do I want credit? Sure, sometimes. That's natural,' Stephen said. 'I think you have to work harder and I think it takes longer to get that respect being in my position. But I have a peace of mind that a lot of [respect] is there.'
No sycophant
Stephen is not Jerry's Mr. Smithers. He doesn't walk behind Jerry agreeing with everything he does, much less what he says.
Never has.
When Stephen was in high school, Dad wanted him to attend Princeton. So did the school's principal.
Stephen dreamed of attending Arkansas and playing for the Razorbacks. He and his dad cut a deal -- he would attend Arkansas but pursue a difficult degree.
'I wanted him to leave that comfort zone, but we had an agreement,' Jerry said.
After four years of playing for the Razorbacks and completing his degree in chemical engineering, he immediately went to work with one of his father's partners in oil and gas. He was to work there for two years before heading to law school in the Northeast. Maybe Princeton.
Then, in 1989, Jerry bought the Cowboys.
'How would you like to learn the football business?' Jerry asked him.
'I said, 'How fast can I get there?' and I haven't looked back,' Stephen said. 'I think I would have loved the oil and gas business, and it would have been a wonderful life. This trumps all of that. To call this work? It's a blessing.'
Part of the unwritten qualifications is to disagree with his dad. To be a second opinion or Jerry's conscience.
Not long after Stephen worked out good, not great, deals for Aikman, Smith and Irvin, Jerry set his sights on Deion Sanders. And Jerry gave him what he wanted.
'Jerry, what the hell are you doing? We just got these guys to take less in deals, and you gave him exactly what he asked for?' Stephen asked.
'It's done. We did this,' Jerry said.
Such disagreements don't happen often, but they exist.
'Sparks will fly between them,' Dalrymple said. 'It's not a comfortable place to be.'
Before the night is over, the two will have said their 'I love yous' and will have moved forward.
'We've never slept on a fight,' Stephen said. 'Ever.'
He's no Jerry clone
Stephen shares his father's disarming, Southern charm. The Arkansas accent. The good ol' boy charisma. Like his father, he's a guy's guy. Loves to fish. Enjoys an expensive cigar.
But he's not Jerry.
He's more guarded. A little less of a gunslinger. He probably won't ever put himself 'out there' the way Jerry does.
'He'll call and say, 'You aren't going to like what you see in the paper tomorrow. Now what are we going to do about this?'' Stephen said.
Stephen agrees some of the criticism that is hoisted at his father can be both warranted and deserved.
'I do think some of it he brings on himself,' Stephen said. 'But, you know, sometimes you need a little controversy. Sometimes that's good. And it's worked for him.'
How Jerry runs, functions and operates the Dallas Cowboys will cease whenever he decides to step down.
Jerry will turn 65 this fall, and Stephen is pretty sure his father will be in charge until he physically is no longer able.
Until that day comes, Stephen will continue to operate off to the side, doing what is necessary but seldom celebrated. Just as he has since he was a kid.
Stephen was 12 at the time. Jerry was asked by his wife to run to the grocery store and pick up some last-minute items before they hosted a party. Stephen sat in the car next to his dad as Jerry drove.
'I was so hot under the collar, and I'm saying some things in the car I probably shouldn't have been saying,' Jerry said.
They pulled into the lot, next to a custom-made car for a driver with a disability. But the man was unable to get out of his car. He was stuck.
'Dad, now there is somebody who has something to gripe about,' Stephen said.
'What could I say?' Jerry said. 'He was 12, and dammit if he wasn't right.'
The family business
Jerry Jones' two other children and a son-in-law are in executive positions with the Cowboys:
Jerry Jones Jr., son Vice president, chief sales and marketing officer/general counsel
Charlotte Jones Anderson, daughter Executive vice president, brand management, president of charities
Shy Anderson, son-in-law Chief operating officer, Dallas Desperados
September 02, 2007
Original A liberal dose article: Ready to take huge handoff
The question isn't halfway posed when Stephen Jones shakes his head and says, 'I don't want to even think about it. That will be such a sad day that I don't want to go there.'
The day will come, though, when Stephen will run the Dallas Cowboys. The Cowboys are a family business. A Jones business. There will be a day when Stephen will replace Jerry. As owner. As general manager.
'I really hate to think about it. But one day my day will come, and I'll be ready for it,' Stephen said. 'If I ever got the job, the first thing I'd say is, 'I'm not Jerry Jones. I'm going to do some things different than he would.''
For 18 years, since his father bought the Dallas Cowboys, Stephen has been the son off to the side. At 43, he's the chief operating officer, executive vice president and director of player personnel, and he does more than people realize. Seldom craving credit, Jones has earned a respect that was slow to come and has established himself as something more than Jerry's oldest child.
'I don't think he has to pay anything [more]; I think he's there,' said Arlington mayor Bob Cluck, who has worked closely with Stephen since they met in 2002 to discuss the possibility of moving the Cowboys to the area.
'In due time he'll step into his own as far as the CEO of the Cowboys. He will do a fantastic job with them. He's done everything to get ready.'
Jerry's boy
Stephen isn't ignorant to the things that have been said and written about him. A local columnist once noted Jerry should have been working a fictional trade that included 'a Stephen to be named later.'
The perception is because he's Jerry's son, he's had everything handed to him.
He doesn't deny that being the son of wealth has perks -- all his life he has known luxuries most will never know, and his father takes most of the heat when things go wrong. But it also has its pitfalls, both real and perceived.
Sons and daughters of wealth and fame are often overshadowed by their famous parents for a lifetime.
'You'd never know who his dad was unless you knew. You never knew he had anything the other kids didn't have,' said Roy Davis, who coached Stephen on the Catholic High School football team in Little Rock, Ark., and later coached Jerry Jones Jr.
'He wasn't a snotty rich kid or anything like that. I think that was one of the reasons he was such a good leader for our team.'
But when Stephen entered into business with his father, he would have to work harder and endure snickers and behind-the-back comments that only work and success would quiet.
'Absolutely you have to deal with that,' Stephen said. 'I don't think I could have gotten that type of respect, and that would be in my craw. I know it's there. What gives me peace is that people you work with -- [with the new] stadium, people in this league or top business leaders in Dallas-Fort Worth -- think I've been able to get respect. That is important.
'I know there are sons and daughters of wealthy people who don't get that respect.'
Today, 18 years into the NFL, Stephen has respect. Just not much credit. He can live without the latter. The former? Not so much.
Because his father is so visible and his own role is by nature mostly peripheral, Stephen is seldom seen. His achievements are infrequently documented, cherished or criticized.
When the Cowboys signed Michael Irvin, Troy Aikman and Emmitt Smith to good but not 'great' contracts in a pre-salary cap world, Stephen orchestrated the deals.
'People would tell you this, but the one you want to negotiate with is Jerry, not Stephen,' said Rich Dalrymple, longtime Cowboys director of public relations. 'Jerry may get sentimental about things, whereas Stephen will drive the hard bargain.'
Stephen does contracts. He manages the salary cap. He brokers sponsorship deals and trades, and handles player personnel decisions and Texas Stadium issues. When the Cowboys decided to push for a new stadium, Stephen was instrumental in working with Dallas city officials before he moved on to Arlington. The same with the Super Bowl bid.
'When I have a problem with the stadium, he's the first guy I call,' Cluck said.
People who know realize what he does. For instance, he often acted as the communicator between his father and former coach Bill Parcells.
'Do I want credit? Sure, sometimes. That's natural,' Stephen said. 'I think you have to work harder and I think it takes longer to get that respect being in my position. But I have a peace of mind that a lot of [respect] is there.'
No sycophant
Stephen is not Jerry's Mr. Smithers. He doesn't walk behind Jerry agreeing with everything he does, much less what he says.
Never has.
When Stephen was in high school, Dad wanted him to attend Princeton. So did the school's principal.
Stephen dreamed of attending Arkansas and playing for the Razorbacks. He and his dad cut a deal -- he would attend Arkansas but pursue a difficult degree.
'I wanted him to leave that comfort zone, but we had an agreement,' Jerry said.
After four years of playing for the Razorbacks and completing his degree in chemical engineering, he immediately went to work with one of his father's partners in oil and gas. He was to work there for two years before heading to law school in the Northeast. Maybe Princeton.
Then, in 1989, Jerry bought the Cowboys.
'How would you like to learn the football business?' Jerry asked him.
'I said, 'How fast can I get there?' and I haven't looked back,' Stephen said. 'I think I would have loved the oil and gas business, and it would have been a wonderful life. This trumps all of that. To call this work? It's a blessing.'
Part of the unwritten qualifications is to disagree with his dad. To be a second opinion or Jerry's conscience.
Not long after Stephen worked out good, not great, deals for Aikman, Smith and Irvin, Jerry set his sights on Deion Sanders. And Jerry gave him what he wanted.
'Jerry, what the hell are you doing? We just got these guys to take less in deals, and you gave him exactly what he asked for?' Stephen asked.
'It's done. We did this,' Jerry said.
Such disagreements don't happen often, but they exist.
'Sparks will fly between them,' Dalrymple said. 'It's not a comfortable place to be.'
Before the night is over, the two will have said their 'I love yous' and will have moved forward.
'We've never slept on a fight,' Stephen said. 'Ever.'
He's no Jerry clone
Stephen shares his father's disarming, Southern charm. The Arkansas accent. The good ol' boy charisma. Like his father, he's a guy's guy. Loves to fish. Enjoys an expensive cigar.
But he's not Jerry.
He's more guarded. A little less of a gunslinger. He probably won't ever put himself 'out there' the way Jerry does.
'He'll call and say, 'You aren't going to like what you see in the paper tomorrow. Now what are we going to do about this?'' Stephen said.
Stephen agrees some of the criticism that is hoisted at his father can be both warranted and deserved.
'I do think some of it he brings on himself,' Stephen said. 'But, you know, sometimes you need a little controversy. Sometimes that's good. And it's worked for him.'
How Jerry runs, functions and operates the Dallas Cowboys will cease whenever he decides to step down.
Jerry will turn 65 this fall, and Stephen is pretty sure his father will be in charge until he physically is no longer able.
Until that day comes, Stephen will continue to operate off to the side, doing what is necessary but seldom celebrated. Just as he has since he was a kid.
Stephen was 12 at the time. Jerry was asked by his wife to run to the grocery store and pick up some last-minute items before they hosted a party. Stephen sat in the car next to his dad as Jerry drove.
'I was so hot under the collar, and I'm saying some things in the car I probably shouldn't have been saying,' Jerry said.
They pulled into the lot, next to a custom-made car for a driver with a disability. But the man was unable to get out of his car. He was stuck.
'Dad, now there is somebody who has something to gripe about,' Stephen said.
'What could I say?' Jerry said. 'He was 12, and dammit if he wasn't right.'
The family business
Jerry Jones' two other children and a son-in-law are in executive positions with the Cowboys:
Jerry Jones Jr., son Vice president, chief sales and marketing officer/general counsel
Charlotte Jones Anderson, daughter Executive vice president, brand management, president of charities
Shy Anderson, son-in-law Chief operating officer, Dallas Desperados
posted by The Gryphon at 8:06 AM
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