All's fair in Birds and 'Boys

THE STORY OF the Eagles-Cowboys rivalry has been told a thousand different ways since grudges and long memories began seeping into the bloodstream of this matchup between two lifetime members of the NFC East (and before that, the NFL Capitol Division).

It's accepted that we get more whipped up about the series than the guys deep in the heart of Texas during the weeks that lead up to the two regular-season games.

As Tim Cowlishaw noted yesterday in his column that appeared in the Dallas Morning News, it's a rivalry "that Cowboys fans get fired up for a week ahead of time and Eagles fans get fired up for in March."

But even if the deep-seated hatred has been a bit unbalanced, there has been an equal amount of delirium and despair for fans of both teams. Blowouts and heart-stopping endings. Cheap shots and moments of disobedience. And plenty of great stars, from Roger Staubach and Emmitt Smith and Bob Lilly on one side to Randall Cunningham and Wilbert Montgomery and Brian Dawkins on the other.

The teams first met Sept. 30, 1960, when the expansion Cowboys were 0-11-1, playing in the NFL's Western Conference. The Eagles, who would go on to win the championship, survived a 27-25 scare in Dallas.

The next season, the Cowboys moved East, and the teams began playing twice in the regular season.

Dallas leads the all-time series, 54-43.

The Daily News has had 11 men serve as Eagles beat writers going back to the late 1960s, beginning with Bill Shefski and Jack McKinney, who died within 5 months of each other in 2002.

But with a majority of them still working here and a couple of former staffers happy to submit one more story to their old haunt, we've chosen to round up the old gang and let them describe the rivalry through their memories of the period that they covered the team.

1967-75: Stan Hochman

The bitter rivalry started with a bang, not a whimper. Linebacker Lee Roy Jordan banged his elbow into Tim Brown's jaw, fractured it, loosened six teeth.

"That started it, really," Brown said recently. "The year before, I'd run two kickoffs back for touchdowns [vs. the Cowboys]. They said they couldn't stop me. I said, the only guy who could stop me was [coach] Joe Kuharich. I wasn't getting the ball.

"But I always had good numbers against Dallas. That's why they went after me. I got a couple of phone calls before the game, from guys I knew. They said the Cowboys had a contract out on me."

A Bounty Bowl before Buddy Ryan's Bounty Bowl, before Mel Tom mugged Roger Staubach, before the Cowboys ended Harold Carmichael's streak at 127 games with a cheap shot. Jordan's elbow was the cheapest of shots, delivered in the late stages of a game in Dallas on Dec. 10, 1967. The Cowboys led, 31-3, at the time.

"I was a decoy on the play," Brown recalled. "It was supposed to be a pass to [another player]. It went incomplete. I'm slowing down and here comes the elbow. Fractured my jaw, loosened six teeth. I begged to go back in, but they said no.

"I guess I was thinking of El Cid, put me on a horse and turn me loose. I wound up eating nothing but liquids for a month and a half. Jordan got a 15-yard penalty and that's all.

"But I did lose a lot of respect for [coach] Tom Landry. Why play that way instead of using athleticism and sportsmanship?"

Brown played two more seasons then headed to Hollywood. Got a nice part in "M*A*S*H" but not much else. Still has the false teeth and the vivid memories of when Eagles-Cowboys turned nasty.

Stan Hochman covered the Eagles as a Daily News columnist during the time Bill Shefski and Jack McKinney were beat reporters.

1976-77: Phil Jasner

The Eagles were 4-10 and 5-9, 0-4 against the Cowboys, in 1976 and 1977. The only things really memorable are that these were the first two seasons of the Dick Vermeil era, laying the groundwork for better things to come. The games had an eerie similarity - the Eagles played hard, they gave what they had and, too often, it simply wasn't enough.

That included a 26-7 loss on Dec. 5, 1976. But it was just 12-7 at halftime against an opponent quarterbacked by the legendary Roger Staubach. And there was a spectacular special-teams play in the second half by rookie Vince Papale, who grew into legendary status of his own via "Invincible," the motion-picture version of his improbable rise from the sandlots to the NFL.

Papale chased down the Cowboys' Butch Johnson on a punt return. What looked like a sure touchdown was limited to a 55-yard return. Papale was the uninvited guest Johnson never expected.

"Butch and I had great battles, even though I didn't appreciate his six-shooter act in the end zone after a touchdown," Papale said. "What I remember is, when we were getting up, he looked back at me and said, 'I knew it was you.' "

1978-79: Drew McQuade

They asked me to fill in for the great Gary Smith, which is like asking Brett Myers to pinch-hit. I'm earnest, but no Hemingway. Smith, who covered the Eagles for the Daily News in the late 1970s and now works for Sports Illustrated, couldn't do this for contractual reasons.

I was the Eagles beat guy at the Bucks County Courier Times during the same period and only once can I honestly say I could have filled his shoes. I was wearing laces in my footwear that day when Smith donned sandals for an uber-formal press conference at the majestic Union League. I can still hear them flapping on the spit-shined floors as Smith arrived late amid gasps from the double-breasted.

Oddly, my most memorable Eagles-Cowboys game during that time involved a guy who only wore one shoe. Rookie Tony Franklin barefooted a jaw-dropping, 59-yard field goal on a Monday night in 1979 to help the Eagles beat the Cowboys, 31-21, winning for the first time in Dallas since 1965. Coach Dick Vermeil liked that kick a lot better than the onside kick Franklin once ad-libbed.

And that wasn't even the highlight of the game. After Ron Jaworski got knocked out of the game, John Walton came off the bench to throw a touchdown pass to Charlie Smith. The other Smith captures the soul of subjects in his writing. The Eagles finally did the same to the Cowboys that night.

Drew McQuade is an assistant sports editor of the Daily News.

1980-81: Bud Shaw

Jan. 11, 1981, was the day hell froze over.

How else to explain this frigid afternoon of insurgency, this complete comeuppance, South Philly rising up to overrun Southfork?

How else to explain a Dallas defense gashed for 263 yards rushing, laid open not just by a sixth-round draft choice, Wilbert Montgomery, but by the un-Eagle, Leroy Harris?

When the 20-7 coup was complete and America's Palace was ransacked, Harris considered all the time he spent in Dick Vermeil's doghouse. He gave thought to the drama building in a game that would've dealt the city and the team the ultimate low blow had Dallas prevailed. Said Harris, "A scared man can run."

Scared of Vermeil or scared of losing, it made no difference. All that mattered is that after losing 17 of 20 to Dallas in the decade of the 1970s, there was no longer reason to fear the Cowboys.

Bill Bergey would later describe the energy pouring out of the stands as a "million volts of electricity." From Montgomery's 42-yard touchdown run that announced the Eagles' dominance to Jerry Robinson's fumble recovery, Bergey's estimate was on the low end.

Minus-17-degree wind chill never warmed so many so completely in a game that felt more like a football revolution than a mere rivalry. Oh, yeah, and it delivered the Eagles to the Super Bowl - their second in as many games.

Bud Shaw is a columnist for the Cleveland Plain Dealer.

1982-83: Rich Hofmann

Nothing about the game was memorable; just another loss. But it was 1983, Marion Campbell's first season as head coach, and, 10 weeks into his tenure, a lot of people were wondering exactly what the franchise had gotten itself into.

The week before, Campbell had endured the first second-guess as head coach for trying a no-hope, 62-yard field goal at the end of a loss, a kick that fell 15 yards short. The next day, Campbell admitted to staying up all night and thinking about scrapping his beloved 3-4 defense in midseason because teams were running on it so easily. His candid helplessness was painful leading up to Dallas.

And then, right before kickoff, the door to the assistant coaches' booth in the press box swung open and there were owner Leonard Tose and his entourage. They all wore topcoats and grim expressions. Only later did we find out that one of them always carried a little canvas Eagles gym bag holding $25,000 in cash - you know, in case the old man ever bumped into a stray blackjack table.

Anyway, Tose and the rest were standing behind the coaches, literally looking over their shoulders.

The problem was, the story demanded a picture. Really, the story was the picture. In the pre-cell phone days, that meant asking the Eagles to use their dedicated sideline telephone to alert a photographer. I asked Eagles public relations man Ed Wisneski to use the phone. He knew what it was about - he and I, initially, were the first two people to spot Tose entering the booth because we both made eyebrow-raised eye contact when it happened.

Wisneski's face wore a pained expression. "Do you have to?" he asked. I said yes. Wisneski, a pro, handed me the telephone. It was a hell of a picture.

1984-86: Paul Domowitch

It wasn't so much the game - a 16-14 Eagles win on Oct. 20, 1985 - that was memorable as it was Marion Campbell's opening line at the press conference after it. "Boys, you're looking at one happy sonuvabitch," said the normally unquotable Swamp Fox, who made Andy Reid sound like Jon Stewart.

Campbell didn't have a whole lot to be happy about during his 3 tough years as the Eagles' head coach. Dick Vermeil left Swampy with an old, washed-up team when he bolted after the '82 season. Campbell had three straight losing seasons, and that win was his only victory in six tries against the Cowboys.

Ron Jaworski threw for 380 yards and safety Wes Hopkins thwarted three Cowboys scoring drives, intercepting two Gary Hogeboom passes inside the Eagles' 5-yard line and recovering a fumble as Dallas was driving for the winning score. Jaworski won the game with a 26-yard touchdown pass to wide receiver Kenny Jackson.

As it turned out, Campbell's happiness was short-lived. The Eagles lost five of their next eight games, prompting owner Norman Braman to fire him before the final game of the season.

Something else that made that game memorable for me: It was the only Eagles-Cowboys game I've ever covered for a paper other than the Daily News. The Daily News and Inquirer were in the final days of a 46-day strike at the time, and I worked that game for the Delaware County Daily Times.

1987-89: Tim Kawakami

Through luck or shaky karma, I got the dark-accusations and dark-humor portion of the rivalry.

Not a single moment when both teams were good, mostly because the Cowboys were transitioning from the late stages of Tom Landry to the fumbling NFL birth of Jimmy Johnson.

I got blowouts, snowball fusillades, accusations, taunts and, of course, the Bounty Bowl of 1989, which were the height of insanity and possibly my poor journalistic career. (Nothing like getting 9 p.m. calls from Dallas asking if I could find a tape of an alleged bounty confession. By the way, I couldn't.)

I got Buddy Ryan at his Eagles peak, all the good and bad - largely, absurdly and entertainingly focused toward Dallas.

JJ just wasn't Buddy's cup of tea, and vice versa. Looking back at it now, they seem much more alike than they did then, except Jimmy has those Lombardi trophies.

In '89, when the Cowboys signed kicker Luis Zendejas after the Eagles cut him, well, that got noticed, too.

So Jessie Small was either ordered to or went out on his own to level Zendejas during the Eagles' 27-0 stomping on Thanksgiving at Texas Stadium. So Luis told Jimmy about Buddy's "bounty" system and Jimmy went ballistic and mentioned that Buddy got his "fat ass off the field" before they could meet at midfield.

Buddy's response: "I resent that. I've been on a diet, lost a couple of pounds. I thought I was looking good."

A few weeks later, at the rematch, new commissioner Paul Tagliabue made sure he was at the Vet to consecrate the moment - and an overnight snowstorm guaranteed the next development: Philly fans pelting the field, the Cowboys, the officials and especially JJ as he ran off the field after another Eagles victory.

At the time, I remember being disgusted by the whole thing. Should've known that this was the good part.

The next summer, I was headed off to California for good. Right before I left, Buddy glared at me, shook his head and asked, "You're not sticking around to see how this turns out?"

Buddy was fired at the end of the 1990 season. I was long gone. That was a million years ago.

Back when the Eagles-Cowboys rivalry was so ridiculous, it was just about perfect.

Tim Kawakami is a columnist for the San Jose (Calif.) Mercury News.

1990-95: Kevin Mulligan

My seasons covering the Eagles arguably were the wildest, most tumultuous years in Eagles history, lowlighted by the birth of the NFL collective-bargaining agreement, unrestricted free agency, the sale of the franchise from Norman Braman to Jeffrey Lurie, management-player bitterness, coach-player feuds and even coach-owner battles that sometimes seemed constant.

Three head coaches (Ryan to Kotite to Rhodes), five victories over Dallas, the death of Jerome Brown, exhibition-game trips to Tokyo and London, and more outspoken, controversial and colorful characters in the locker room than in Hollywood. Wild and crazy it was, and seemingly nonstop until elbow surgeries ended my tenure on the beat.

Honestly, the "rivalry" has been more media/fan creation than real since the days of Buddy vs. Jimmy.

The question posed was "What is your most memorable Eagles-Cowboys game while covering the team?" There are three, for different reasons.

The 24-0 Eagles shutout of Dallas on Sept. 15, 1991, was the most dominant performance of an Eagles team over the Cowboys that I covered. Bud Carson's defense sacked Troy Aikman and friends 11 times.

There was the Jan. 7, 1996, NFC divisional playoff game - the Babygate game, when a totally unprepared and disinterested Randall Cunningham, reduced to unhappy backup status by Ray Rhodes - was needed off the bench when Rodney Peete went down. Cunningham was miserable. A very-beatable Cowboys team won, 30-11.

But the most memorable game was the Merrill Reese-dubbed "Groundhog Day" game at the Vet in 1995. Game tied at 17-17, fourth-and-inches at the Dallas 29, Barry Switzer twice ran Emmitt Smith off left tackle (a whistle blew the first one dead) for no gain. I can still hear Reese's call in my radio earpiece: "They stop him again! The same play! It's Groundhog Day." The old Vet quaked. Gary Anderson booted a 42-yard field goal when the Eagles took over and, thank you very much, Barry Switzer, the Birds won, 20-17.

Unforgettable.

Kevin Mulligan is an associate director in the Office for Communications for the Philadelphia Archdiocese.

1996-2001: Marcus Hayes

They cheered the stretcher.

Eagles fans, delirious that Michael Irvin was down and out, rejoiced that an ambulance would be driven onto the field to transport his immobilized body to a hospital.

There, it would be determined whether Irvin would walk again.

Let's make this clear: Nobody cheered Michael Irvin's courage.

Eagles fans in Veterans Stadium on Oct. 10, 1999, saw one of the more hated Cowboys injured, inert, defenseless. And they cheered.

At first glance, it looked as if a neck or head shot from tiny safety Tim Hauck knocked Irvin out, but, as replays would show, Irvin's head hit that evil Vet turf at just the right angle.

It turned out to be a blessing, really. Irvin herniated a disc on the play but doctors discovered a congenital defect - narrow spinal cord - that made Irvin more susceptible to injury, so he retired. With boos ringing in his ears.

After the game, Eagles quarterback Donovan McNabb, then a rookie, expressed disbelief that more than 66,000 people could act so despicably. Cowboys running back Emmitt Smith wondered how they could revel in another human's suffering. Even then-Mayor Rendell, who seldom criticized his constituency's boorishness, called it inexcusable.

My tenure allowed me to cover postseason appearances by the Eagles in 1996, 2000, 2001 and 2002. I saw Ricky Watters run and Brian Dawkins blossom. I covered the arrival of McNabb, the departure of Ray Rhodes and the ushering in of the Andy Reid era.

And I witnessed the single worst thing I've ever seen in an athletic venue.

2002-present: Les Bowen

My most memorable Eagles-Cowboys experience was watching from the Texas Stadium press box while Donovan McNabb scrambled and scrambled and scrambled, to his right, then back to his left, dancing away from pursuers for 14.1 seconds, on Nov. 15, 2004, before flinging a 60-yard completion to Freddie Mitchell. The Eagles won that game, 49-21, the most points the Cowboys had ever given up at home.

It was ABC that clocked the Monday-night ramble. Asked afterward if he'd realized he was running sideline to sideline for 14.1 seconds, McNabb said: "Yes, indeed."

Fox analyst Troy Aikman called it "the best pass I've ever seen, and I'm not one for superlatives."

"I saw him going to the right, and I remember running across the field, trying to get in front of him," running back Brian Westbrook said at the time. "Then he switched directions and I just remember thinking, 'Come on, man!' So then I ran back the other way and he threw it to Freddie . . . It was a long play."

ABC estimated Mitchell covered 106.9 yards before making the catch and being tackled at the Cowboys' 15 by Nate Jones.

"I could tell by the way Freddie was running, he was out of gas," Eagles linebacker Jeremiah Trotter said. "He was happy the dude tackled him. If he'd had to run another 5 yards, he'd have passed out."