Look Back At His ‘Boys Is All Jerry Jones Needs

When the Dallas Cowboys lost 15 of 16 games in 1989, Jerry Jones still got a $16 million check for TV revenue from the NFL, even though nobody watched the sorry, no-account Cowboys that year. He went to the bank with $32 million the next year even though we were all tuned into the 49ers and Bengals and Bills. The Cowboys weren’t filling Texas Stadium on any regular basis; you could walk up to the window and buy a ticket 2 minutes before kickoff. If Jones had to live off revenue produced only by the Cowboys, life would have been rough.

This, we remind you, was five years ago. Nobody was wearing Cowboys merchandise. The Cowboys sold a grand total of 2 percent of NFL licensed goods. But Jones kept taking his full equal cut, even though the Raiders and Bears were selling, say, five to six times the number of hats and T-shirts the Cowboys were selling. Nike wasn’t calling Jerry Jones. The big boys of the day - the 49ers, Bills, Giants, Bears, Raiders, Broncos, Dolphins - were producing all the dough and they were sharing it, willingly, with a weak link like the Cowboys. There’s no record of Jerry Jones saying, “No thanks, you keep all those millions and I’ll strike my own deal.”

The NFL credo might as well be, “From each according to his talents, to each according to his needs.” Jones, at 1-15 and selling 2 percent of the league’s merchandise, had more need than talent. He needed the handout, so to speak, and he took the welfare.

And that was OK, because those were the terms he agreed to when he bought the Dallas Cowboys. That day, Jones bought into a private club called the National Football League, and its first commandment is, “Share The Wealth.” That, as much as having a superior product, is why the NFL doesn’t have to worry about small vs. large market teams. It is why the Packers and Steelers and Bills can do a thriving business. It is why the NFL can go into Jacksonville, Fla., while one of baseball’s flagship franchises, the Pittsburgh Pirates, might be relocated after more than 100 years. It’s the very reason that teams such as the Steelers, the Chargers and, oh, the Cowboys, can survive the dog days but still live to come back and contend. The Steelers play in the same stadium as the Pirates, but you don’t see the Steelers on the brink of leaving town.

The NFL has worked this way forever, and anybody who wants to buy in knows the first commandment like his own name before a sale is finalized. So what other recourse does the NFL have but to sue Jones? He has bitten the hand that once fed him, jeopardizing the existing sponsors and creating suspicion among prospective ones. Because Jones is riding high at the moment, he disses the other members, as if his wings will never be clipped. Apparently, Jones’ memory only kicked in in 1992.

As one person familiar with the situation said Tuesday, “Why sue him now? Because he is seriously damaging the business. (The NFL) had to step up. What he’s doing could unravel the balance of the league.”

Now, baseball may not have anyone capable of acting in the best interest of its league, but football does. There are plenty of parties who tried to get Jones to see the light of day without the ultimate fight, but Jones laughed at everybody, even the expansion owners, who invested more than he did. It’s not that the other owners or league officials think Jones is stupid; most think a great many of his money-making suggestions are nothing short of brilliant. Even his biggest antagonists say Jones could be a tremendous force for good throughout the league.

But Jones has run amok. We saw that when he stupidly ran off Jimmy Johnson, the on-field brains of the organization. There might not be anybody to stop Jones from messing up his own enterprise, but the league knew it had better stand firm and do it now.

Reebok, Champion, Starter and Logo Athletic only outfit the entire league, from uniforms to sideline apparel. They only invest tens of millions of dollars a year. You think they feel great about playing by the NFL’s rule, only to watch a primary competitor, Nike, come in and make millions through the back door despite the NFL’s promise that this would never happen?

“What Jones has done has made Reebok, Coca-Cola and Visa look like a bunch of chumps,” one sponsor’s representative said, accurately.

And those sponsors have already been in touch with the league, trust me. “They want to know if we represent all 30 of the teams, or just 29,” a league official said. “And people who may be considering new deals are already asking, ‘Who do we represent? Is anybody else going to pull out and make his own deals?’ You can’t operate a business like this.”

And this is why the NFL is suing Jones for $300 million, twice what he paid for the franchise.

Don’t compare this with Al Davis and his battles with the league in the ‘70s. Davis, who loves money as much as the next guy, at least had the weight of principle on his side. The Jones deals are only about principal.

If Jones can’t recall what it’s like to be a have-not while still reaping all the benefits of the haves, then perhaps being hit over the head with a $300 million lawsuit will help jog his memory.